Page 149 of Jesse's Girl

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“You know how she is. All bluster and shit. All Sturm und Drang.”

I give him a skeptical look. “You didn’t hear what she said.”

“Fair. But I saw her before she left the wedding. And? I know my sister.” He tilts his head at our front door. “I guarantee you, she’s in there right now bawling into her pillow over you—” He cuts himself off with a derisive head shake. “Oh, God this is so weird, trying to hook you up with Ada… For fuck’s sake. How is this my life?” He slumps down onto his elbows and rubs his temples.

I can’t help but smile in my confusion. “Hook me up with Ada? I thought you didn’t want us getting involved.”

He tilts his head in acknowledgment. “I just thought it could get fucked up in a hurry. Didn’t want either of you getting hurt—and didn’t wanna get stuck in the middle of your drama.”

“Right. Like this, you mean?” Regret stabs at me again, though I know full well we couldn’t have avoided this.

“Yep.” He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push the point. “But dude. I shouldn’t have even… I mean, you’re both adults. It’s really none of my business.” He points at me. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s fuckin’ weird. And I don’t have to like it… but I can deal.”

The iron anchor dragging my heart into the dirt threatens to lift.

Is he serious right now?

I straighten in my seat and swallow. “Really? You mean that?”

“Yeah. The part I was pissed about was you didn’t tell me. I’m your best friend. And, like, I know she’s my sister, and I get telling me would be fucking awkward…”

“I know,” I say. “But it was shitty of us to keep you in the dark. I really am sorry.”

“Hey, man, people fuck up, though. I get it. No one knows how to handle these things. You two wouldn’t be the first or last people to make questionable choices when”—he shudders—“sex is involved.”

I stare at the ground, begging the hamster wheel in my exhausted brain to pick up the pace.

If Marcus can deal…

“And I didn’t realize,” he continues, “like, if this is serious”—he taps a finger on the armrest of the chair—“if this is some heart-stopping, can’t-live-without-you shit? If she’s gonna have to run slow-mo through the airport to stop you from leaving? Nobody likes to drive to the airport. Save her the trip.”

“The fuck do you mean?” I ask, lifting my gaze to his. It’s too late and I’m too foggy for this.

“Fuck you. It’s after two in the morning and I’m still drunk.” He sighs. “What I mean is this obviously isn’t just… gross, nope, not even gonna say it.” He shifts in his seat and tries again. “I mean, it’s clearly not just some stupid fling.”

“No, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m flying back.”

He rolls his eyes. “Cancel your flight, dipshit!”

The weight on my chest lifts just enough to let a swirling fizz of hope creep in. That, or I’m about to throw up.

“And my job?” The question is almost rhetorical; I’ve tossed around the idea of quitting more times than I can count. But I don’t dare let myself read into this. Into what I think he’s saying.

He shrugs. “Quit! Did you know there are other jobs? Even here, if you’ll believe it.” He’s smirking now.

Prick.

“Marcus…” The hope starts to swell, expanding and spilling into all the cracks and tears wrought when Ada shut me out.

This… I wasn’t expecting this.

“I mean, fuck, they could probably ship you whatever shit you left behind, right? Plus, I assume your mom and Claire would be happy if you stuck around.”

I cover my mouth with both hands and stare into the middle distance, reeling. This changes everything. Well, almost everything.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Marcus continues, “it’s gonna be weird as fuck knowing you’re with my sister. I don’t want any details, okay? And I reserve the right to crack jokes about all of this. Forever.”

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