Page 49 of Hiding from Hope

“Wake up, Ace. Food is ready.” My eyes snap open.

“Jessie?”

“I called him because I was trying to work out what the ingredients you purchased made, and then gave up because, what the fuck? And Addison was out with Noah, so… I didn’t know who else to call.” Rosie stands behind Jessie, who has crouched down in front of me on the couch. When I look to her, she over-exaggerates her wink, splits her fingers into a V and pokes out her tongue before giving me a thumbs up. My blush is instant, and when I snap startled eyes to Jessie to make sure he didn’t witness that atrocity, I see the tenderness in his eyes, the gentle smile on his face as he looks at me like there is nothing else in the room.

“You cooked me dinner?”

“I did. I assume you were making a curry? I’m sure it isn’t like what you had in mind, but I witnessed Rosie attempting to dice the potato, and, well, I really needed to take over.” He chuckles, straightening, and putting a hand out to help me up from the couch.

“How come… why are you…” I cough to clear my throat and Rosie slaps a hand across her mouth to stop a laugh. I throw her a glare over Jessie’s shoulder, and he lowers his head, chuckling.

“Uhhh… I’m just confused. Why are you cooking me dinner?”

“Just taking care of you, like I said, remember?” How could I forget? He shrugs and smiles again. That same smile, which has apparently been stuck on his face since yesterday. I stand from the couch, letting him pull me and drop me into a seat at the table. Rosie grabs wine from the fridge and pours me a glass. As Jessie plops a bowl of delicious smelling curry and rice in front of me.

“Oh my god, it smells amazing.”

“It’s no Casey Baker meal, but it’ll do,” he says, not able to make eye contact. I look at Rosie as she does eye tennis between JJ and me, her mouth open in a wide smile, like she has no idea how to react.

We settle into a comfortable silence, and taking a bit of the rice and curry, it melts perfectly in my mouth. It doesn’t taste like the one I usually make, but it’s delicious. I practically moan as the fork leaves my mouth.

“Jessie, where the hell did you learn to cook? Between this and the omelet?”

He shrugs self-consciously and scratches the back of his head. “Um, a… friend… in high school, sh—they taught me. I used to spend a lot of time at their house. Cooking was one of the things we did a lot together.” He doesn’t look at me, and I know he is talking about Jenny.

Something hurts in my chest. Food, cooking, baking is something that I find comfort and joy in. I hate that I’m jealous he did the same thing, but with someone who broke him. I hate that he still has that with her, and it isn’t something shared with me. I nod and continue with the food.

I’m certain I’d lose my appetite if it just wasn’t so damned good. Rosie still hasn’t said a word, and when I look up at her, she is just smiling like a total idiot and looking between us.

We sit in awkward silence for a while. And when we finish, I waste no time grabbing the plates to clean up before Rosie stands and shoves me back in the seat. “I might not be able to cook, but I am excellent at cleaning. Sit down and let me.” She gives me a look, and I slink back down into my chair. She clears the table, heading to the kitchen, and Jessie shuffles awkwardly in his chair.

“Thank you for the coffee this morning,” I say gently, not really sure if we’re acknowledging what happened or if we are going to pretend like it never happened. For the sake of our friendship, I hope we forget, but I know if he pretends, it’ll hurt more than I’d care to admit. God, I’m a mess.

He nods, looking at his hands, which rest on the kitchen table. He fiddles with his pinky finger, where a ring that is no longer there used to sit. Because it rests on my thumb. I grab it on instinct, like seeing him reach for it makes me need to do the same, and I twist it on my finger.

“What time did you wake up?” he asks, and his voice is rough, his eyes finally looking up at me.

“Um, about 8ish. I didn’t feel you leave?”

“I didn’t want to wake you. I needed to be at the shop, but I opened early and brought everyone back some coffee. I knew you’d need it. I was hoping you would rest,” he says simply. Like it was a completely normal act of kindness.

“Have you spoken to Grace today?” I shake my head and keep my focus on the thumb ring, twisting it up and down my thumb. Grace hadn’t even reached out. No calls or texts. It feels so completely selfish being upset that she hasn’t. She has so much going on right now; she really doesn’t need to be thinking about me.

“I was going to go see her tonight, but it just got so late. I might go during the week sometime.” He nods again, and I look up to find Rosie giving me another look. One I think means she wants me to try. Honestly, I don’t know what we’re doing here. I don’t know how to address any of it. Maybe it’s better if we just clear the air. Be friends. It was a moment of high emotions, of intensity, and we were both spent and tired. It doesn’t have to mean anything or ruin anything.

I open my mouth to speak, but Jessie beats me to it.

“Well, I should probably go. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” He gives me a forced smile, standing from the table.

“Oh. Sure, okay. That’s fine.” I smile back at him.

He stands there staring at me for a bit, giving me his fake smile. I can’t tell whether he knows I know it’s forced, or whether he actually believes I think he is smiling at me. He nods again, and I follow him to the door. Rosie watches us with fascination as she tries to multitask between cleaning and watching. Jessie nods at her as he passes, and she does something with her hand that I think is a wave, but she is so far into her shock she doesn’t really do anything except fling soapy water across the floor.

I follow Jessie to the door. He opens it and turns to face me on the other side of the threshold. Holding onto the frame for balance, because his proximity always knocks me around, I stare up into his greeny-blue eyes.

“I’ll see you?” he asks, softly.

“Yeah, I’ll be around.” I nod, biting my lip, because all the words I want to say just don’t feel right. He isn’t going to talk about what happened. I guess that means we’re pretending it didn’t happen?

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