Page 43 of What We Broke

But Jesse is above any expectation I ever had for myself. He’s actually too good for anyone, but now that I’ve found him, there isn’t a thing I won’t do to keep him.

“Ready?” he asks.

“As I’ll ever be.”

He lets go of my hands and we both exit the car. Opening the back door, I pull out the box of gourmet donuts I bought for Zara. Jesse may have suggested they were her favorite, and there was no way I was going to show up empty handed anyway. Two birds, one stone.

Slipping his hand back in mine, Jesse leads us the short way to the house and up the porch steps. When we reach the front door, he doesn’t bother knocking, showing just how close they really are.

“We’re here,” he announces, guiding me down a long hallway.

“In the kitchen,” she shouts back.

We pass three closed doors as we walk through, with the end of the hallway opening up into a large living room, kitchen, and dining area combined.

Zara has her back to us, cooking something on the stove. Wearing black skinny-leg jeans, I notice she’s taller than I expected—almost my height—and her dark brown hair falls in waves to the small of her back.

When she glances over her shoulder, her face is makeup free and her hazel eyes dart between the two of us with so much warmth that the minute amount of tension I was holding in my shoulders completely disappears.

I wasn’t anticipating that she wouldn’t like me, but it’s the desperation in which I want her to, for Jesse, that makes me nervous.

“You guys are just on time,” she says. She turns the burner down, whatever is on the stove now set to more of a simmer, and turns to face us. “And you must be Leo,” she says.

I wave awkwardly. “In the flesh.”

Her smile is still so wide, genuineness radiating off her. “I doubt he’s spoken about me as much as he’s spoken about you, but I’m Zara.”

I extend my arm over the counter and she takes it. “He speaks about you and Raine plenty,” I tell her.

Her gaze darts to him with a knowing smile; the man can’t contain his feelings about anyone important to him to save his life.

When I release my hold on her, she takes a few steps to the fridge and opens it.

“Beer or wine?” she asks.

Jesse squeezes my hand and answers, “I’ll take a beer and Leo will take a Coke.”

Wordlessly, she takes out a bottle of each, turns to face us, and slides them over the kitchen island toward us. The fact that she doesn’t balk or ask me questions about my drink of choice has me liking her even more. It’s a probability that Jesse has already informed her about my parents, and my decision to drink as little as possible, but she takes it in stride, and I appreciate it.

Returning to the fridge, Zara pulls out a bottle of white wine, followed by a glass she must leave in there to keep cool.

“Everything Zara drinks has to be cold,” Jesse explains.

“So no tea and coffee?” I ask her.

She opens the bottle of wine and fills the glass three quarters full. “Only if they’re cold.”

“For any particular reason?”

“I want to say something serious and deep.” She lifts the glass to her lips for a quick sip. “But really I’m just so impatient and got sick of burning my tongue waiting for my drinks to cool down.

“Now what are you two waiting for? I’ve got my famous marinara sauce simmering.” She points at me. “Which I know you eat because I checked with Jesse. And I’ve got freshly made pasta waiting to be boiled.” She then shifts her attention to Jesse. “Pull a stool out for your man and tell me all the things.”

I feel my cheeks heat at the attention as I take my seat, preparing for whatever interrogation is coming my way.

Sitting beside me, Jesse positions his stool so his body is facing me as I face Zara. His legs are spread wide, both knees grazing my thigh, his hands free to touch me at any given time, something I’ve noticed he loves to do.

“How was Raine when you dropped her off?” Jesse asks Zara.

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