Page 33 of Jump

“I don’t really wanna sit there alone and watch trash TV, and I’m not sure you and I have the same taste in movies.”

Her brows pinch tight in challenge. “You think we couldn’t find something we’d both enjoy?”

“Are you asking me to watch a movie with you?” I counter instead, thrilling in victory when her cheeks warm. “Because that sounds kind of intimate, Ana.”

“My name is Vivian. And I’m not asking you to watch a movie with me. I was merely pointing out that, if you were to wander that direction while I was already in there, I’m sure we could come up with something that entertains us both. It bothers me that you pay as much rent as I do, but enjoy significantly less space and amenities.”

“Yeah? Well, it bothers me that you might head to the lake tomorrow night to get drunk and risk drowning.”

“Get drunk and…” Her body spasms, like my words are blows. “What?”

“Alcohol,” I press. “Dark lakes. Veterans,” I shiver. “All that ‘they fought for our right to get drunk and stupid’ makes me uneasy.”

“I don’t…” Her jaw tics. “I’m not sure what you’re saying.”

“Don’t go to the lake tomorrow night. Don’t drink and flirt and risk some jarhead touching what doesn’t belong to him.”

“Belong?” Her eyes shoot wide. “Like… a possession?”

“Alcohol,” I sidestep the argument she wants to have. “And high emotions. Everyone wants to thank a veteran on Veteran’s Day, Ana. Don’t be one of them.”

Her eyes spark with a fury I might grow to fear someday.

But that day is not today.

“First of all,” she growls. “It’s not like a busload of soldiers are coming to town for the festivities. They don’t just ship them around the country to steal as many virtues as they can. So the people at the lake tomorrow night will be the same ones we see every other day of the week. Second, it’s a music festival. Garden chairs. Wine coolers. Not a fricken mosh pit of cocaine and bad choices. So I think I’m gonna trust myself not to wander into the lake and drown.”

My hands ball and flex at my side. “Ana—”

“Vivian!” she barks. “My name is Vivian. Ana isn’t real!”

“She was real to me!” I snarl in response. “She existed. She and I had something—for one night, at least. And now she’s my fuckin’ roommate, demanding I annoy her more or pay less rent.”

“Use more of the communal spaces,” she counters savagely. “I didn’t say anything about annoying me.” She pushes away from my doorframe and turns, so she’s half in, half out of my room. “Good talk. It was a timely reminder of why we don’t do the communal thing very often.”

I charge to the door when she walks further into the hall and starts toward her room. “Don’t go to the lake, Ana! Don’t make me come looking for you.”

“Don’t bother paying your rent on the first of the month,” she spits instead. “I’m gonna halve your amount, which means the eight hundred you already sent covers two months. You can pay another four hundred on the first of December, and we’ll continue on like that.”

“Actually, I’d rather my rent stays as-is and you find a show we’d both enjoy.” I move into the hall and stop on the threshold to her bedroom. It smells of flowers. Perfume. Fresh linen and soft puppies. Fuck, it’s like night and day, seeing her bedroom compared to mine. “I probably won’t watch it with you, but I want to see what you think would keep me entertained.”

“I’m not here to do homework.” She strolls back to her door and stops so we’re only a foot apart. Looking up, folding her neck back, she meets my eyes so a flash of something arrows straight for my gut. “I’m not a plaything for your amusement, Matteo Ruiz. And I have no desire to dance, all because you think I could be your monkey. So you can have the TV on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, which corresponds with your days off from the firehouse. Find your own entertainment.”

Grabbing her door and taking a step back, she slams it so hard, I feel the wind waft against my face. Under her breath, like she thinks I won’t hear, she murmurs. “You miserable jerk.”

I should be angry. Offended. Stomping around and making a fuss because she dismissed me and called me names. But seeing her light up, even if only for a fight, is like honey to a bear.

She’s too shy for her own good. Too softly spoken. Her inability to take up space or be noisy makes me worry more than I’d like.

So the fact she can come at me during a fight and hold her own lifts a heavy weight from my chest. It breathes fresh oxygen into my lungs.

Fuck yes, she has an attitude.

“Goodnight, Ana.” I turn on my heels and meander back into my room. “It was good chatting with you.”

“Shove it up your ass!”

Vivian

---