Chaser (Dive Bar #3)(49)



“Sounds hot.”

“Right? Total turn-on.”

“I take it there’ll be drool and snoring during this incredible quickie?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

I just shook my head.

“Sorry,” she said. “I’m probably making you uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine,” I said, not thinking about having any kind of sex with Jean to the best of my ability. My ability sucked. “We’re friends. You can talk about anything with me. Even the sloth.”

For a moment, she just looked at me. Her gaze full of I don’t even know what emotion. Then she sighed. Oh holy shit, that sound. It alone had my dick at half-mast. All the woman had to do was click her fingers and I’d be begging on my knees. Friendship my ass. I was the literal worst.

“Thank you,” she said. “Honestly, I’d be lost without you, Eric. Everyone’s been great, but you’ve … you’ve really gone above and beyond. I wish I had a medal or a cookie to give you.”

Geez.

“I’m serious.”

“Jean. Really, I’m happy I’m here to help,” I said, bumbling along, searching for words. “You two, you mean a lot to me. Sorry I disappeared on you when I went to California. That was shitty of me when I’d said I’d be here for you.”

“You’re forgiven.” God, her smile and the soft sweet look in her eyes. Bury me six feet deep, I was officially dead.

“You’re not like I thought you’d be,” she said, voice low. “That day we met, you seemed…”

“What?”

“Well, you’re nothing like Nell said.”

I turned away. “Shit. Shoot, I mean. Really, Jean, don’t get carried away trying to make me into a good guy. I’ve gone out with a lot of women. Just, you know, having fun. Good time, not a long time, and all that.”

“And here I thought you were a virgin like me.”

“Smart ass,” I muttered. “What I’m trying to say is, with you in the situation you are, a guy like that would be useless to you. You need someone dependable.”

She said nothing.

“You deserve the best.”

“Eric, having a baby doesn’t mean I’m helpless or that I belong on a pedestal.”

“I know.”

Pink tinged Jean’s cheeks. What emotion it was, I didn’t know. Suddenly she stood, taking the bowl of salad and putting it back into its container before placing it in the fridge.

“Not hungry?” I asked carefully.

“I’ll eat it later.” She turned, putting her hands on the kitchen counter at her back.

Neither of us said anything for a minute.

“So, seen Andre lately?” I asked. Just making conversation. Not digging for information at all.

“Um, no. I think he’s busy with a new girlfriend.” No trace of a frown on her face or anything. Guess he’d been right about them only hanging out and being neighborly.

“Good,” I said. “For him, I mean.”

“Yes.” She rolled her shoulders, stretched her neck. “He’s a nice guy.”

“He’s okay.”

She frowned. “I thought you two were friends.”

“We are. Sure, I just…” I scratched at my head. “Yeah, no, we’re friends.”

“All righty,” she said, gaze confused. “At any rate, I’ve been thinking. I’d like to make you dinner next time you’ve got a night off. What do you say?”

Normally I’d run a mile from such an offer. Science (sort of) showed that meeting a woman in a public setting then relocating somewhere private only for the sex portion of the evening was safest. It cut down on opportunities for drama. Excessive attachment and shit like that. If sporting teams were stronger on their home territory, then surely the same applied to women. Only I’d already been in Jean’s apartment plenty of times. Hell, I’d even rolled around on her living room floor. Fully clothed. The boundaries in this kind of friendship were far different from what I was used to. But I’d continue to do my best to keep things on the up and up. How I felt about her didn’t matter.

“That’d be great,” I said. “It’s in two days.”

She licked her lips and drew a breath, as if she were going to say something big and meaningful. But then didn’t. “Okay.”

“I’ll look forward to it then.”

She just smiled.





CHAPTER TWELVE

A tie or bow tie would have been too much. But T-shirt and jeans seemed to send the wrong impression. Like, “Thanks for inviting me for dinner, not that I give a shit.” It was a hard call. In the end I settled for navy trousers and a gray sweater. Long hair tied back because Ada was starting to grab at things. A splash of cologne and all good.

Jean opened the door in sweats. “Hey. Hi. Come on in.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” She smoothed back her ponytail, smile hesitant. “We had a bad day, but she’s asleep now. She had a mild fever.”

“Poor Ada,” I said, keeping my voice down. “Want to put this off for another time?”

Jean crawled onto the corner of the couch, knees drawn up to her chest and arms wrapped around them. That she was comfortable enough around me to just be herself got me a little high.

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