Page 26 of Jesse's Girl
“What?” his mother chirps. “I’m just saying, he’s not used to being around that kind of thing. I don’t want him getting upset if his roommate is… you know… doing it. He’s impressionable.”
I watch a slew of reactions cross Ada’s features. I’m bracing myself for what she might say in response, convinced this woman is about to get an earful.
Ada takes a slow, deep breath and holds it for a moment. “Well! It was great to meet you both,” she eventually says. “I’ll be in touch.”
My brow creases despite the smile tugging at my lips when she extends an arm to guide them toward the front door. She reminds me of those grinning women in sparkling dresses at the Oscars whose sole job it is to usher the winner offstage after their speech.
When they’re safely outside, Ada speed-walks back in, eyes bugging out.
“Holy shit,” is all I say. “Did that… just happen? You were here, too, right? I’m not having some kind of fever dream?”
“Nope. That was—unfortunately—real life.” She blows out a baffled breath.
We hold each other’s gazes for a moment before we both crack up.
“Okay, so, that one’s a no,” I say through barely suppressed laughter.
“What do you mean?” Ada almost pulls off a deadpan delivery, save for a twitching muscle at the corner of her mouth. “I thought he was perfect.” She can barely get the words out before losing it and has to grab my arm to steady herself.
When she catches her balance, I consciously step back, not wanting to risk her touching me again. I clear my throat, hoping she doesn’t notice the shift.
“Okay,” she says, looking at the ceiling and fanning at her face. Her cheeks are flushed pink from the absurd encounter. “Okay.”
“When’s the next one?” I ask, massaging my jaw.
She checks the time on her phone. “I think we’ve got another few minutes to get our shit together.”
“Glass of water?” I ask.
“Yeah, thanks.” She takes a steadying breath and shakes her head. “Oh, man, and I thought my parents were all up in my business.”
“I feel bad for the guy,” I say as I grab a couple glasses from the cupboard above the sink.
“Yeah,” she sighs.
I fill the glasses before turning back to Ada.
She drags her hair out of her face, then reaches for the glass in my right hand.
When I hand it to her, our fingers brush, and I look away. But my traitorous eyes slide to her again, and I can’t help but watch the way her throat bobs as she swallows that first sip.
“So, how’s your mom doing?” she asks.
“Good!” I say, a bit surprised, albeit grateful, for the change of topic. “I was actually just getting her settled back at home when you texted.”
“Oh, shit,” she says. “I didn’t mean to pull you away for this bullshit, I?—”
“No, no, no,” I interrupt. “It’s fine. She told me to go. She was just gonna take a nap and didn’t want me being a… weird lurker, was it?” I smile as I lift the glass to my lips.
“Okay,” she says with a laugh, but her relief is visible.
“I’m happy to be here. Honest,” I reassure her.
The knock at the front door interrupts us, and she puts her glass down to go answer it.
I let out a breath. Mentally, I jog on the spot and stretch my neck like a boxer—bracing myself to take on whoever walks in next.
“I am so excited to be here!” a bubbly voice croons from the front hall. The voice’s owner, a blonde holding her phone out in front of her like she’s filming, follows Ada into the kitchen.