Page 45 of Jett in Jeopardy

I knocked on the door to the room at the end of the walkway and waited. The rush of the surf behind me filled my ears. I noticed the wind carrying a faint icy spray off the waves. The door opened, and Daniel filled the opening, frowning.

“Is everything okay?” he asked when his gaze met mine.

“I think I fucked up.”

“I guess you better come in then.” He stepped back so I could enter and nodded to a pizza box sitting next to a beer on the coffee table. “I was just about to eat. Do you want a slice?”

“Sure, thanks.”

I wasn’t actually hungry after my conversation with Jett, but I hadn’t eaten anything since this morning. Besides, it would give me something to focus on other than Daniel’s reaction when I told him how badly I screwed up.

Daniel grabbed a plate and beer from the tiny kitchen, handing me both before he dropped onto the sofa and grabbed the television remote to mute the canned laughter from the sitcom rerun he’d been watching.

I sank down onto the hard armchair, angled to face the TV perched on an old dresser by the far wall, and set down the plate and beer on the coffee table. The hotel had been built in the 60s, and most of the furniture in the rooms reflected that.

“So, what’s wrong?” Daniel asked, before taking a bite of his pizza.

“Why do you think something’s wrong?” I helped myself to a couple of slices from the box, wrinkling my nose before taking a bite. “Are there mushrooms on this?”

“Yes, there are mushrooms. I don’t order with you in mind if I don’t know you’re coming over. Just pick them off.”

“I am.” I sounded sulky, even to me, as I plucked the disgusting, shriveled fungi off the pizza.

“You’re here looking like someone kicked your puppy. That’s how I know something’s wrong since you asked.”

Once again, Jett’s wounded expression flashed before me. “I think I kicked my own puppy.”

“I don’t know what that even means,” Daniel said, before taking a swig from his beer and setting it back down on the table. “Explain.”

I told him about letting Jett stay with me, about agreeing to keep things casual, and about completely overreacting when I saw him looking through the photos of Ryan.

“It wasn’t his fault,” I said. “I’d just been caught off guard seeing him looking at photos of Ryan. I didn’t think I would ever have to talk to him about Ryan.”

“You didn’t tell him you were married? That Ryan died?” Daniel asked, sounding annoyingly incredulous.

“No, I didn’t. We’re not in a relationship.” I wished I didn’t sound so defensive. “I told Jett I wasn’t looking for anything serious.”

Daniel shot me a wry smirk. “Well, you can see where moving the guy into your apartment sends something of a mixed signal.”

“One had nothing to do with the other. He’s just staying with me while we try to work out who’s stalking him.” I bit into my now mushroom-free pizza, but it tasted like cardboard. “Everything else between us is casual.”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

Honestly, I wasn’t sure. When I was away from Jett, I could tell myself that he was just some guy I was fucking, that we were having fun, and eventually we’d just move on with our lives. “He’s a kid, barely twenty-four. When he finishes university, he’ll probably go back to Colorado.”

Daniel set his empty plate down on the coffee table and leaned back against the faded orange sofa. “You don’t know what his plans are when he finishes school?”

“We’re not in a relationship,” I snapped.

“Why not?” Daniel rolled his eyes and threw his hands up in the air. “You like him. Youreallylike him. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have let him past your front door.” I opened my mouth to argue, but he cut off. “If he didn’t matter to you, you wouldn’t feel so bad about coming down on him for looking at the photos or feel like you’re betraying Ryan when you’re with him.”

A lump lodged in my suddenly tight throat, making it hurt to swallow. I set down the half-eaten pizza. Daniel was right. Jett was starting to matter to me a little more every day, and that wasn’t what I’d wanted when we’d started this.

“He’s nothing like Ryan,” I said, dropping my attention to a loose thread on my shirt’s frayed cuff. I tugged and twisted the string without lifting my gaze to Daniel’s, so I wouldn’t have to see his expression. “I know I shouldn’t compare them…” My voice trailed away. There was nothing else to say, really.

“How does Jett fall short?”

“Hedoesn’t,” I said, quickly. “He’s amazing, funny, kind, and smart. He’s just… different.”

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