Page 23 of Jump

Coming back to my bread, I dump the entire tin upside down, and grin when Axel’s lips wrinkle in displeasure. “You don’t want your friend to meet me, anyway. According to Hannah, she’s a total sweetheart. And I…”

“Am an asshole,” he finishes with a nod. “Yeah.”

“Well, you don’t want me to hurt her feelings, right? Not everyone understands my charm.”

“And by charm,” he laughs, though the sound carries no humor, “you mean rude-ass attitude, curt replies, caustic interactions, and zero niceness? You’re probably right. She deserves better than having you in her life.”

“Exactly.” I slap the second slice of bread on top of my lumpy tuna and pick my sandwich up with a smile. “She deserves better, so I’m just gonna make myself scarce.” I tilt my sandwich forward—cheers—and grin. “Thanks for dinner, kid. Carbs. Clean protein.” I wink and start toward the door, leaving my mess behind. “There’s a reason your girl looks at me and wishes you had as many abs.”

“Fuck you, Lieutenant.” He picks up my discarded tin and glares. “You need to move out. Today.”

“Uh-huh. I’ll take your feedback under advisement. Until then,” sandwich in one hand, I stop at the door and reach into my pocket with the other. “I’m gonna call your niece and hang out for a while. She’s the sweetest person I know, she likes me more than she likes you, and she’ll be super mad when she finds out you’re having a dinner thing tonight and didn’t invite her.”

His face reddens, and a lone vein thickens in his forehead.

Juniper ‘JuneBug’ Scott is seven years old and Feeney’s kryptonite. She’s never unhappy, always brave, and brings a smile even to a man like me. So while I know I’ll never actually take the place of her beloved Uncle Axe, I don’t let on to him that he’ll forever have her top spot.

“I wonder what she’s having for dinner tonight?” I muse.

“You’re a fuckwit,” he snarls. “There’s a reason you’ll grow old, miserable and alone.”

“Mmhm. But since I don’t like people anyway…” I turn on my heels to leave, only to skid to a sharp stop and look down at a scowling Hannah.

“Shit!” I slam a hand to my chest and reaffirm my grip on my sandwich. “Sullivan! You scared the hell out of me.”

“I know you’re not taking that sandwich to your room, Matteo Ruiz.”

She snatches the soggy bread and carries it to the counter where Axel stands. Which could be a good distraction for me; an excuse to turn my ass around and look at anything, anyone, except the beautiful blonde who stands in shock in the hall.

Her arctic blue eyes, wide and staring. Her hips, encased in denim, and her chest, accentuated by a cute top I haven’t seen her in.

Yes, I’ve spotted her around town since our last interaction.

Yes, I hid. Every. Single. Time.

Because I’m a coward.

Because that’s what she asked for: no tomorrows.

“Matt?” Her lips are so thick and full, so heavy on the bottom, and hold a million memories of a single night. Her lashes, without makeup, still frame the beautiful stare that looks me up and down in stunned disbelief. Her pulse beats in her throat, visible to my eye, and when I remain quiet, her hands come together, nervously fidgeting in front of her belly, which inadvertently draws my attention down.

“You’re…” She swallows, so I see the movement in her neck. “You’re…” Then taking a deep, heaving breath, her chest grows and empties. “Matteo Ruiz?”

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!

I hold my tongue, if only because the single word circling my mind is neither polite nor helpful. But the longer I stare, the warmer her cheeks grow.

“Ruiz,” Hannah announces, ignorant to the electrical pulse and gripping tension jumping from me to Ana. Vivian. Ana. “That’s Viv. Viv, that’s Matt. She’s nice, he’s not. She’s antisocial, so is he.” She dumps my sandwich in the trash and closes the lid again with a snap, then wandering to where I take up the whole doorway, she drops her hand on my shoulder and tugs me back a step.

She assumes my silence is a byproduct of my assholishness, and Ana’s, her shyness. She doesn’t know shit.

“Move so she can come in.” She tugs me back another step. “Though, I’m mad you made my kitchen smell like a stinky wharf.” Her nose wrinkles just like Axel’s did. “I was looking forward to the scent of Italian spices, not… fish.”

“Um…” Ana—Viv—slowly ambles forward. Unsure. Nervous. She wrings her hands and shakily tucks a lock of long blonde hair behind her ear. “I-I’m Vivian.” Tremoring, she offers a hand and gives me all the information I need. We’re still anonymous. Still strangers. She’s letting me off the hook, when really, she could blow the lid off this house with a single spilled secret. “Vivian Doyalson.”

“Great start.” Hannah grabs my right hand and thrusts it toward her friend. “He’s Matteo Ruiz. Your future housemate.”

My heart jumps into my throat and I wrench my head around to her. “What?”

---