Page 34 of The Quit List
“Option C,” Jax says again.
I roll my eyes at him. “And what’s option C, smartass?”
“I have one true love.”
“Let me guess… yourself?”
He chuckles deeply. “Close, but not quite. Her name is Edna.”
“Oh, so you do like older ladies.”
“Born in 1973.”
I gape at him for a moment while doing mental math until he adds, “Edna’s the name of my van.”
“Of course, it is. And of course you have a van. You look like the van type.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Jax smirks. “If you play your cards right, you can meet her sometime.”
“I’d be honored,” I say with a swift roll of my eyes. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t following about twenty-five “van life” Instagram accounts, but it’s not like it would ever actually be the life for me. I slide my empty glass across the bar. “And now, I’m going for real this time. I might not work until the afternoon tomorrow, but it’s way past my bedtime.”
He nods, but then, he looks at me for a moment, like he’s weighing something up in his mind.
“You got plans tomorrow before your shift?”
I smile dryly. “Nothing past the riveting list of things I was meant to do tonight. Why?”
“My shift isn’t until 5pm tomorrow, so if you’re free earlier, we could meet up to talk about your toad-kissing problem and what you’re looking for in a non-amphibious partner.” He taps the folded piece of paper by my hand.
“Well, there’s a lovely visual. And I’ve already taken up your whole evening with my dating woes… are you sure that’s how you want to spend tomorrow morning as well?”
A whisper of a smile crosses his lips. “To be honest, I think there might be something you can help me with, too.”
“What is it?”
“I may be expecting some guests of my own.”
I look at him, full-on confused. “Human guests? I thought you were headed out to the wilderness in the not-so-far future. So, unless you’re expecting a pack of raccoons…”
He huffs out a laugh. “It’s for a new venture of mine. I basically need to get a booking system set up.” He’s no longer making eye contact, instead focusing on putting some glasses through the dishwasher behind the bar.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were being a touch secretive, Jax Grainger.” I place my hands on my hips. “What’re you planning on doing out there in the middle of nowhere? Starting a wolfpack cult?”
Jax snorts with laughter. “Something like that. But less cult, more adventure.” He shrugs. “Basically, if I’m gonna sustain myself out there, I need guests.”
Oh. Well that makes some sense. He’s probably trying to Airbnb his place in the city or something while he lives in the middle of nowhere. “I’m sure I can help. Like I said, I am an expert with bookings and guest reservations. Unless you’re trying to book something weird.”
“What on earth would constitute a weird booking?”
“I don’t know. Bookings to borrow kinky underwear? That’s where I draw the line.”
What? Why am I like this?
And who the hell borrows underwear of any kind, ever?!
Luckily, Jax just grins. “Kinky underwear, you say?”
“I don’t know what you get up to in your spare time!” I wrinkle my nose at him. “All I’m saying is that if you want help with anything cult or lingerie related, I’m out.”