Page 84 of Hiding from Hope

“You guys are an item?” Dad questions, looking only at Jessie. Who the hell says ‘item’ these days?

To Jessie’s credit, he doesn’t falter. He stands up straight, matching Dad’s energy, and nods. “We are.”

“Since when?” Dad pushes, and I nervously bite my lip. Before I can intervene, Jessie continues.

“A month or so.” Liar.

“How?” At Dad’s question, Jessie smiles easily and looks at me for a moment before he looks back to my dad, that smile stuck in place.

“How could I not?” he responds, and Mom covers her mouth, her eyes failing to hide the size of her smile.

Dad nods, and his smile grows slowly. “Good answer, son.” He shakes Jessie’s hand again and then heads for the fridge. “Beer?”

“Love one,” Jessie responds, leaning in to give me a kiss on the forehead, then follows my dad to the kitchen.

Mouth agape, brain traveling one hundred miles an hour, I return my attention to mom, the girls now coming our way from the couch.

“I knew you two would find a way,” Mom coos.

“They’re adorable, aren’t they?” Rosie says as she slings an arm around Mom’s shoulders.

“Disgusting, sure. But I’m happy for them.” Addison winks at me with a sad smile. We still haven’t smoothed over everything that went down in the bathroom of Pucks, and I can feel the tension and irritation radiating from where she stands, arms crossed and leaning against the wall of the entryway.

“Yeah, it’s only new, though. And I don’t really know how it all happened, but I—”

I stop, freezing, realizing this will be the first time saying it to someone that isn’t Jessie. The realization that we aren’t in our bubble anymore, that it isn’t just us. It makes it real.

“I really love him,” I whisper quietly, and Mom leaps in to hug me while Rosie screws up her nose while smiling and Addison fights away tears.

“Okay, so tomorrow night, I say we meet at Lucas’s, because he is closer to the bar. We start out at Bozzelli’s, and then see where the night takes us,” Rosie plots from her spot on the couch. We ended up ordering pizza, having a few drinks, and are now all snuggled on the couch with the heater blasting. Jessie kept a respectful distance most of the night until we moved to the couch. Like he was done with the ‘above the waist’ only touching. The moment we moved to the couch, he had me tucked into his side, my legs swung over his lap as he massaged my calves.

“What is this for?” I question.

“Your birthday, obviously,” Addison clarifies.

“Oh, that’s lovely! We were hoping we could take you and Grace out for dinner on Sunday? I know everyone will be busy on the 24th, so I don’t want to make any plans on that day,” Mom suggests. No, of course, no one would risk ruining their Christmas Eve to celebrate me on my actual birthday.

I give Mom a tight smile and nod. “Sure, sounds good.”

“You’re welcome to come, too, Jessie.”

“Thanks, Bev, I’d love to come,” he replies. “I’m also stealing Casey on Christmas Eve, too,” he says to everyone except me.

“What for?” I look up at him, and he returns the look below hooded eyes, his bluey-greens shimmering with desire as his hands continue their delicious torture on my legs.

“Birthday surprise.” He punctuates with a wink, and I fold my lips into my mouth to stop myself from pouncing on him in front of everyone.

“Anyway!” Rosie almost shouts, getting the attention back on her, Addison and I chuckling at her look of indignation. “Tomorrow night?”

“Sure, sounds fun.” I shrug, and my head falls to Jessie’s chest. Rosie sees the gesture, so she makes sure to clarify. “This is a girls’ night, though. We don’t need men out here ruining our fun.”

“Noah is going to rock up, anyway,” Addison says with a sigh as her head hits the couch. “Wouldn’t matter that I said no guys, he’d pretend to be there for Caleb.” Her smile tells me she secretly loves that, and I have a feeling there will be another caveman there, doing exactly the same thing.

“You good with not being invited?” I ask up at Jessie with a knowing smirk, reveling in the dirty look he is giving Rosie. As expected, he avoids actual words and grunts instead.

“Probably hang out with Noah.” There it is. We all end up in a fit of giggles and Rosie just rolls her eyes.

“Bunch of insecure pussies,” she mutters.

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