Page 103 of One Good Crash
Unlikeme, she'd gottenherthings within days, mostly because her new job had apparently included full relocation – not that I'd seen that on the paperwork.
Regardless, just a few days after she'd accepted the offer, like magic, a moving truck had shown up with all of her things, professionally packed and delivered straight to our doorstep.
Cripes, they'd even unpacked it.
As far as ouroldapartment, Allie's cousin had assumed the lease and promptly gotten a new roommate, which meant that Allie was here for the long-term. She'd even changed her driver's license.
But me? I wasn't nearly as settled.
My job was fine enough, but it didn't pay half as well as Allie's. And even though she'd insisted on paying more than her share of the rent, it's not like I had a ton of money to spare, especially since I'd been forced to replace a whole bunch of things that I'd previously taken for granted.
Already, I'd spent a small fortune on undergarments, shoes, and even makeup. It was just the basics, but they added up. And I'd only had one paycheck since starting my new job.
Thank goodness for tips.
Maybe I should've skipped the lattes, but they reallyweremy one luxury, and I hated the idea of giving them up, especially now that I kept running into Jax at the coffee shop.
I was still mulling all of this over when he said, "If you want, we can do it now."
I was so lost in my thoughts that it took me a moment to realize that he was talking about his offer to replace my things.
I gave the shirt another worried glance. "Technically, I still owe you for the stuff I borrowed at your house."
"No," he said. "You don't. Keep it, just like I said."
Hehadsaid that, but it still felt strange. Even the shirt I was wearing now, I didn't even know who it belonged to. I mean, it obviously wasn't his, so whose was it?
I didn't know, and probably I didn'twantto know.
But I still felt funny about it. What if I ran into this person? Would they accuse me of swiping their clothes?
Oh, God.What if the shirt belonged to Morgan? I could only imagine what she'd say – or do.
It would be a flat-out spectacle. And how humiliating wouldthatbe? It was almost enough to make me want to rip off the shirt and torch it before any such thing could happen.
Right. Because nothing says, "I hate spectacles" like ripping off your clothes and burning them in the hallway.
Jax said, "What is it?"
I blinked. "Sorry, what?"
He frowned. "Something's wrong."
"No. Not really." Again, I looked to the shirt. "It's just that, well, I'm kind of curious…whose shirt is this?"
"Yours, just like I said."
"C'mon, you know what I mean." I bit my lip. "It's not Morgan's, is it?"
He looked at me for a long moment. "You think I'd give you her clothes?"
"Well, you gave mesomebody'sclothes." I forced a laugh. "Unless you got them from Goodwill or something,somebody'smissing them."
I reached up to rub my temples. What on Earth was wrong with me? It was one stupid shirt. Why was I obsessing over it, when I had a whole bunch of shirts on just the other side of that door?
I still hadn't answered his question. "About your offer," I said, "that's really nice of you, but I can't let you do that."
"Why not?"
