Page 84 of Yes No Maybe

I cringe. Not because I don’t want to spend time with him—Ireallydo. The entire week’s been an exercise in self-control—me staying away from Jack so I can deal with this therightway because I sure as hell haven’t so far. My guilt compounds the longer it goes unresolved. I’m the worst fiancée ever. Not only have I betrayed Dean by entertaining thoughts about Jack, but I never really let Dean know me in the first place.

So, my guilt grows, and every time I relive Jack’s words, his touch, and that kiss, I feel even worse.

This isn’t me—I’m no cheater.

Also, not me—letting guilt about ruining Dean’s proposal and everything since then take over my confidence. I’ve spent the week red-penning my relationship and brainstorming how to fix it—if Ishouldfix it, that is. I don’t know what to do.

So, a Jack party isn’t what I need right now.

Still, he goes out of his way to make everyone feel at home. He engages with Mom and Mira nonstop, as if it’s his only chance. We congregate in his kitchen and living room first, where he makes everyone drinks and raids his fridge for fruits and cheeses. Sara helps him make pizzas. Then, he moves the party outside.

Laughter and conversation flow easily—I’m the only quiet one. It’s the kind of evening I once wished for Dean to win over my loved ones. Only he didn’t. His attempts to woo my family dissipated after Grandpa Ro’s funeral when Mom was too sad to notice, and Mira didn’t care for him at all. He gave up after—I don’t blame him. But it’s another thing adding to my guilt.

“Do you have spontaneous neighborhood parties often, Jack?” Mom asks as we lounge around his outdoor dining area, nibbling on pizzas.

“Yep.” He slides the next pizza into the hot brick oven. “Growing up, Mom always freaked out about guests, like they might give her house a white-glove inspection. It was even worse when Devin, my older brother, got sick. Germs and a weak immune system prevented her from letting too many people in—she was right not to. But Devin made me promise not to be like that… after. He didn’t want us to close people out.”

“Jack has an open-door policy,” Vernon says. “We’re welcome anytime, as long as he isn’t writing.”

“Sometimes, even then, if he wants the noise,” Rose giggles.

“Are you writing?” Mom asks. “Rowan mentioned writer’s block.”

Jack shrugs, turning the pizza with the peel. “Writer’s block isn’t a problem anymore. I’m writing better than I have in years. I’m days away from sending the final pages to my editor.”

“Good. What’s this one about? Or am I allowed to ask?” Mom says, sitting up curiously.

“Ask me anything, Christine.” Jack pulls out the pizza. “It’s about two home-insecure teenagers, outcasts for different reasons, who fall in love after spending one night together in a hospital emergency room. They’re separated the next day, so the story is about how they survive and get back to each other. It’s two people at their most vulnerable and also at their strongest. I’m calling itBare.”

My hand covers my mouth, hiding a gasp. Tears threaten, too.Something about you strips me bare.With his eyes on me, a soft heat rises, joining the tightness in my chest.

“Wow, that sounds harsh and beautiful,” Mom says, “and I like the title.Bare.”

Jack leans over the table to refill Mom’s wine. “Join my team of beta readers. I’d love your opinion.”

“I’d be honored! So would Rowan—she’s totally fallen for you.”

“Mom!”

“I mean, as a writer, of course.” Mom’s devious blue eyes twinkle as she flashes her wry grin. “Wouldn’t you like to beta read for Jack?”

“Rowan stopped reading Jack’s books,” Sara reveals, earning a stern, pinched look from me. Her eyebrow creeps up daringly as the rest of the table stares in my direction, astounded.

With a light shrug, I say, “I’m taking a break. That’s all.”

“But what about preparing for your classes?” Mom asks, her smile bent. “Aren’t Jack’s books the inspiration behind your project?”

“I have enough notes onThe Other Usto last all semester. I need to try out other writers.” I lean back, twiddling the paper towel in my lap. The neighbors are aghast, as if I’ve just announced my intention to become a sister wife. With all eyes on me, I feel hot and uneasy.

Jack smirks at their forlorn faces. “Don’t worry, guys. She’ll come back to me in the end.”

The rest of the table relaxes. His playful expression meets my worried one.

“How are your non-plans coming along, by the way?” He slices the new pizza. “Ready for school to start?”

“I’m nervous but ready. I think. But, of course, I plan to go wherever they lead me, so who’s to say? I have to be prepared for anything. It’s a little overwhelming.”

“Don’t look at it that way. You’re not teaching. You’re talking books. It’s fun. If you get lost, all you have to do is talk about what turned you into a reader and the books you’ve loved.” He smirks, catching my eyes in his. “Just don’t try to say it was your English classes. They’ll see right through you.”

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