Arrogant Devil(71)

“Edith,” Jack warns.

“Just trying to make polite conversation, sheesh.” She shakes out her paper and pretends to get back to reading.

“Do you want any pancakes, Edith?”

“No thank you. I already ate. Unlike you two, I’ve been awake for a few hours.”

Jack sighs and I finally cave. “Edith, we aren’t keeping secrets. There’s nothing to tell. I got drunk like an idiot, and Jack had to make sure I didn’t die in my sleep.”

She seems disappointed. “That’s all?”

“That’s all.”

“Well dammit, that’s boring.” Her chair screeches away from the table then she grabs her coffee and her paper. “And it means I owe Dotty and Deedee twenty bucks a piece.”

Jack and I exchange an amused glance and something sparks between us—a feeling that could easily overwhelm me if I let it. I shift my attention to the pancakes and fill them up with bananas and blueberries. Jack gets me an aspirin and some water and I’m so grateful, I let him pick his pancakes from the first batch. He takes the big ones, which is fine because everyone knows the little ones are tastier, with a better crust-to-fluff ratio. We sit at the table across from one another with Alfred lazing at our feet, hoping to catch an errant crumb.

My attention is pinned on the window in front of me while Jack’s is on the kitchen wall—we’re suddenly playing a game of chicken. We don’t talk for long minutes as we cut into our pancakes, fork bites into our mouth, and chew. Last night, we saw hidden sides of one another, the deep, secret parts you’re supposed to expose after like three years of dating, when you already share a lease, and a couch, and possibly an animal, when you aren’t afraid to make bodily noises in front of each other. We did it all wrong. We cut through the bullshit layers of polite conversation and small talk. I told him the truth about Andrew. We bonded over the debilitating fear of being alone, just a casual Saturday night between attractive, single employer and attractive, “it’s complicated” employee.

How unsettling. I really thought he was the devil. Now, I know it’s a disguise. Beneath all that arrogance and good hair, he’s funny and thoughtful and kind. He slept on my rug because he didn’t want me to aspirate my vomit—not exactly the MO of a fallen angel and leader of the damned.

I know the truth about him now, and it’s impossible to know how I’m supposed to navigate from here. Do I try to wipe my memory completely clean of last night? Do I pretend he was just being polite? Nothing more, nothing less? I don’t think it’s possible. I’d have to hit myself in the head with a rock or something.

Maybe instead, I could bring it up casually and laugh it off. Ha ha, I have a crippling fear that Andrew has broken me in a way that can’t be fixed. LOLOL, FUNNY RIGHT?!

Obviously neither of those choices will work.

I sigh, and then, like fools, we try to talk at the exact same time.

“About last night—”

“I was wondering—”

I laugh and he smiles, waving for me to go first.

“I was just going to say, thanks for last night. You didn’t need to be that nice. I think I remember 90% of what happened, but it’s that 10% that really scares me. I’m worried I might’ve flashed you, or joined a Mexican cartel or something.”

“You might’ve done both, but I hear those guys have a 24-hour try-it-before-you-buy-it policy.”

I drop my head into my hand and pinch my eyes closed. “It was pretty bad, huh?”

“Pretty bad? No. You were honest with me, and I’m glad. Also, yes, you flashed your underwear a few times, but I was raised a gentleman and I didn’t look.”

I glance up at him and arch a brow.

The right side of his mouth perks up just a little. “Well, when I could help it.”

“What is it with me?! First the swimming debacle and now this. I swear I’m not usually such a weirdo around my friends.”

“Friends, huh?”

I can feel heat spread across my neck. Funny how friends feels intimate after being enemies.

“I mean, we are, right? Friends?”

“I guess so.”

He doesn’t seem all that enthusiastic. GIVE HIM AN OUT BEFORE THINGS GET WEIRD.

“But don’t worry, I have a 24-hour try-it-before-you-buy-it policy too.”

“Nice.” He laughs.

“Because maybe you want friends who can hold their alcohol better than I can? Or better yet, friends who don’t get snot all over you? Or most of all, friends who don’t hysterically cry about their disastrous marriages?”

He smiles and shakes his head. “You don’t have to feel weird about last night. I don’t.”

“Even though you had to blow my nose?”

“Even then.”

Interesting.

“What were you going to say earlier when I cut you off?” I ask.

He swallows and turns back to his half-eaten plate of pancakes. “Well, I was just wondering if maybe you’d woken up still upset about our fight? Remember, I told you I’d give you an out. You were drunk.”

“Not that drunk.”

He gives me a teasing smile. “Pretty drunk.”

After that, we go back to eating in content silence. I have to hurry and finish so I can clean up and get ready for yoga. People will be arriving soon, and I still need to change. I could really use a shower, but I’ll save that for after since I’m about to get sweaty anyway.