Page 40 of Jesse's Girl
I rub my hands over my face. I can’t believe she still won after that shitty start. “Okay, sit down,” I say, squinting at her as she comes back into the living room and hands me a beer. “You got lucky.”
“Think we should turn down the difficulty?” she asks, her tone blatantly condescending. “Make it easier for you little babies?”
“Eat shit,” Marcus says to her, taking the beer from her hand.
The second race goes about as well as the first, except I get lucky at the last minute: the video game gods gift me with the holy grail. “Oh, it’s fucking on,” I say, rounding the final lap with my blue shell at the ready.
Ada apparently catches wind of my plan. “No, no, no, no, no!” she shouts, her words rushing out, but she’s unable to stop me. She groans in frustration when she goes flying and I sail past her spinning cart, crossing the finish line just in front of her.
“Oh! What’s up!” I gloat, throwing my arms out wide at my sides.
She shakes her head at me, looking disappointed. “Using a blue shell is such a cheap move.”
“Hey, I still won fair and square,” I say, holding up my hands in defense. But I’m beaming, delighted to have bested her.
“Alright, Big Lebowski,” she retorts, lifting her chin at me, “calm down over there.”
“Okay, now who’s being cheap?” I ask.
Our eyes lock for a long moment, and I take in her broad smile.
There she is.
I wrench my gaze away and clear my throat as I reach for my beer. “Okay, well, it’s over for you nerds when we get to Rainbow Road.”
Marcus groans. “Man, fuck Rainbow Road.”
9
ADA
Tucked into a corner of the loveseat, sketchbook in my lap and music blasting through my headphones, I’m doing my damnedest to ignore Jesse moving around the apartment in my peripheral vision. Drawing usually relaxes me, but I’m less able to unwind with him nearby.
“Hey,” he says, giving me a lopsided grin as he walks into the living room.
I pull off my headphones and take a beat to absorb his appearance. His hair is combed and pulled up into that infernal man bun and he’s wearing his new clothes. I’m definitely not noticing he looks good—like, really good. As he reaches for his wallet from the coffee table, the scent of him wafts my way: clean and citrusy with a hint of spice, like Earl Grey tea.
Fuck. He smells good too.
We’ve only been living together a few days and here I am practically salivating because he approached me. Forcing a swallow, I will myself not to show any reaction and return to drawing. “Looking slightly less like a Neanderthal than usual.”
“Wow, thanks.” His voice drips with sarcasm, and he shakes his head.
“What’s the big occasion?” I ask, then remember it’s Friday. “Ooh, is tonight the night? The big date? With what’s-her-name? Renee’s friend?”
He nods, tucking his phone and wallet into the pockets of his jeans. “Yeah. Kristen. Double-date with Marcus and Renee.”
“Kristen,” I repeat, almost to myself, nodding slowly as my gaze drops again to my sketchbook.
“What are you drawing?” Jesse asks, walking around beside me and making to peer over my shoulder.
“Nothing!” I snap my sketchbook shut.
He recoils a step at my hasty brush-off, hands out in front of him. “Whoa, top secret shit, or what?”
Embarrassed, I hug my artwork protectively to my chest, then stand and pick up my sketching pencils, zipping them into the small canvas case. “It’s just…” I trail off, surprising myself at how vulnerable I feel that he almost saw my drawing.
What is wrong with me? It’s not like I’m drawing anything scandalous.