Page 55 of Hiding from Hope
While I’m usually pretty quick to engage my muscles, my core is always switched and ready to go, I hadn’t counted on the fact that Jessie is six feet of muscle, and compared to my five-six gangly sack of bones, I barely have to think of a muscle because Jessie sits straight up, lifting me like I weigh nothing, and his face is level with Little Casey.
A grunt comes from deep within his chest, and I watch as his eyes trail my body and make it to my face.
“Nah, I think this was a great idea.”
I can’t even respond. Words evade me. That same look of hunger burns a path over me, and I can practically see the dirty images flying past his thoughts.
Being Jessie’s friend and not climbing him is going to be very hard after today, I think.
“Want to grab a coffee?”
“Sure.” I nod to Jessie as we file out of the yoga room.
After the surprisingly intimate pose that we had jack-knifed into, we managed to keep our eyes off of each other. If not, just out of utter desperation to make it to the end of class without tearing into each other than anything else. But this easiness we fall into immediately after the hot and heavy is something I’ve come to love. The way we can exist in each other’s space and it just be a little slice of peace.
“I can’t stay long. I promised Evan I’d pop over. I made Grace some freezer stock meals because Evan has to go interstate for a work thing, and he’s worried about her not eating properly.” Before we leave the studio, I head for the freezer in the staff break room, pulling out the bag of meals I had stored here when I arrived, knowing I would stop by Grace’s before I went home.
We make it onto the street, heading in the direction of the café on the corner. Jessie loops around me to walk on the side closest to the road.
“Do you speak to her much?” he asks gently, and I shrug.
“I’ve tried to call her. Sometimes she picks up and sometimes she doesn’t. I just want to be there for her and she won’t let me. I know it’s selfish, but—”
“It’s not selfish to want to love your sister.”
But why won’t she let me love her?
“Well, anyway, we haven’t really spoken about the fight. I’ve just passed it off for now. I think we are going to need to have a conversation in the future, and I’m dreading it.” He nods, understanding. On one of our quiet reading dates in his apartment, I told JJ all about the things Grace had said that night I went over there. He didn’t offer advice, and I didn’t ask. He just listened, and then when he vented about the shop and the nosy developers, I didn’t try to fix it. I just listened, and he talked.
“Have you seen that sales guy again? From the developer?”
“No. I don’t know if he’ll come around again. I think that was a one off. My lack of response was probably answer enough.” I nod.
“Did you ever take Ethan up on his offer?” I smile because he gives me a side eye like he knew this question was coming. “It’s okay to rely on your friends, Jessie.” A small chuckle makes it past my lips.
“Ethan is Noah’s friend, not mine. And I don’t need him to look at anything. The shop is fine.” I just nod, not pressing, because I know he isn’t ready.
His parents’ divorce is still relatively fresh. He is still somewhat overcoming his ex, and I know this guy isn’t the best with change. If he is anything like his sister, it’s likely panic-inducing. So, I just let him sit in his thoughts.
“Ethan is definitely your friend,” is the only response I give as I bump his shoulder and skip ahead.
Lattes in hand–chocolate banana today, perfectly boring–we stop in front of the coffee shop. I need to go left, and his apartment is off to the right. Jessie looks at me, and as he reaches a hand out to tuck an errant hair behind my ear, he steps closer and speaks. “Want to hang at my place tonight?”
It’s an intimate question from this close. I can also see the vulnerability swimming in his mixed eyes of blue and green as he searches the depths of mine. Despite the fear the closeness and intimacy gives me, it also makes me feel light and warm. Makes me feel a little like I might be burning up. But to keep from squeaking something weird, I just bite down on my smile and nod quickly. Holding onto that lightness, I take a leap of courage and press up on my toes, lightly dusting my lips to the corner of his in a delicate kiss.
When my feet are planted back on the ground and I’m stepping backward away from him, I see his stunned face watching me, his free hand fisted by his side as he white knuckles the coffee in his hand.
“I’ll text you when I’m on my way.” I give him a wink–honestly, who am I right now–and I turn and head for Grace’s.
The walk there is short. This studio is the one closest to her apartment, which is why I run the other one, but I pass a convenience store and pick up a treat for her, anyway. I knock once on Grace’s door, and she answers with a soft smile. Foregoing hello’s, she just turns and walks back into the apartment, leaving it open in invitation.
Her apartment is decorated similar to the studios, but with dark laminate flooring and greenery everywhere. I spot Evan in the kitchen and nod in hello as Grace leaves us to it. I store the meals and walk out to the living room to find her lying on the couch. I sit, grabbing her feet to lift them and place them in my lap.
“Here.” I hand her the chocolate bar. Or I try to. She looks at it like it offends her, then back to the TV.
A frown pulls at my face and I place the bar on the coffee table. The heaviness in my stomach souring. At least she is letting me hold her in some way.
“I don’t know how to make this better, Grace,” I say quietly into the tense air that surrounds us.