Page 43 of Jesse's Girl

“Jesse got hot.”

I recoil, glancing at Jesse to make sure he didn’t hear her, and make a face. “Uh… how drunk are you?”

Be cool. Just deny it.

“Don’t pretend you don’t notice.” She waggles her eyebrows, giggling quietly. “And you’ve never been able to lie convincingly. I don’t know why you bother trying that shit with me.”

“Uh, I don’t notice,” I deny outright. “Besides, aren’t you only supposed to have eyes for your fiancé right now?”

Katie makes a pfft sound. “I’m engaged, not blind.”

“Okay, big shooter. Time to go home.” Making a show of brushing off what she said, I take her by the shoulders and guide her toward the front hall—though I don’t miss the knowing look she throws back at me.

As we pass through the living room, Katie reaches for Dimitri’s hand and murmurs something about it being time to head out. Jesse trails us down the hall, still talking with Dimitri about soil pH.

I hug Katie and Dimitri goodbye in the doorway, and the guys shake hands again.

“Hey, it was cool chatting about this stuff,” Dimitri says, tilting his chin at Jesse.

“Yeah,” Jesse replies with a nod. “Great to meet you.”

“Maybe I could connect you with my boss?”

“Yeah, sure,” Jesse says. “Ada can text Katie my number.”

“Okay,” I say. “Hate to interrupt you two chatty Cathies, but it’s late.”

“Yeah, sorry. We should go,” Dimitri says.

“Goodnight!” I call to Katie, who’s already halfway up the stairs.

“Night, Ada,” she says over her shoulder. “Night, Jesse!” she sings out, projecting her voice back into the apartment. She winks at me and I close the door with an eye roll.

I take a breath and turn around, slowly walking back into the kitchen. Jesse’s already leaning against the counter by the sink, drinking a glass of water and looking decidedly hotter than earlier. A few pieces of hair have escaped his bun and fall forward, framing his face. Is there more stubble than before?

Damn. Maybe I’m the drunk one.

“So, how’d the date go?” I ask carefully. For a moment, I don’t know where or how to stand. I settle on stuffing my hands into the back pockets of my jean shorts and focus on breathing like a normal human being.

“Uh,” he starts, looking thoughtful. “I mean… She was nice.”

“Nice?” I ask, squinting slightly. I watch him for a moment, but he doesn’t elaborate. “It was shit, wasn’t it?”

He lets out a long breath, dragging a hand down his face. “Oh, fuck. It was awful.” He looks like he’s suppressing a smile.

An involuntary laugh escapes my lips—louder than I mean for it to sound. I press a hand over my mouth, trying not to do it again, nearly snorting from the effort. “Sorry… sorry.”

He tilts his head at me. “Oh, no, please, laugh it up at my expense.”

“Aww, poor bunny,” I say with a pout, still giggling a bit. Clocking his wounded expression, I walk toward him and add, “Hey, I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you.” I touch his arm, a warm smile still on my lips.

I swear I hear him draw in a quick breath.

I drop my hand, pulling my gaze away.

Why did you touch him like that?

My eyes land on the fridge—and on a convenient cover. “Midnight ice cream? Makes everything better.” I grab a tub of raspberry swirl from the freezer and fish two spoons out of the cutlery drawer before shutting it with my hip. I pry open the ice cream and hand him a spoon.

---