Page 33 of Like You Know
I hung up after quickly thanking him.
It annoyed me that he’d been so ... accommodating. I had a feeling he would’ve actually found Mom and come home if I’d said I wanted them to, and that bothered me. I didn’t want to like him. I didn’t want to admit he was good for her.
I hated him for being the one to convince her to get her shit together. Why couldn’t she have done it for me?
Suddenly, the house I’d wanted all to myself felt too empty. Without any plan, I grabbed my keys and headed out.
My first instinct was to head to the Meads’ place, but I needed to get out of this neighborhood. I thought about going to my lookout, but I was in a state and didn’t want to navigate those tight turns in the dark.
Frustration steadily rising, I decided to head downtown and get some dinner, but somehow I found myself at Mena’s apartment building instead. Yes. Fine. Good. I’d go up and hang with her for a while, maybe see if she wanted to go get ice cream with me or something.
But a few steps from Mena’s entrance to the building, my feet turned and marched over to the next entrance instead. Jet’s address was in the secret spreadsheet the girls and I kept. It contained the names, occupations, and addresses of people we knew, along with any other information we had. Knowledge was power, and information was currency. Next thing I knew, I was in the elevator, smacking the button for Jet’s floor. The doors opened before I had time to come to my senses, and I rushed to his apartment and banged on the door.
When it didn’t immediately open, I banged on it harder, even adding a kick for good measure.
Then it dawned on me that I had no idea if he lived alone or if someone was sleeping.
“Fuck!” I whisper-shouted, feeling like a total fool. I’d already turned to get out of there when the door opened with a squeak that echoed in the hallway.
“Amaya?” Jet frowned at me through the gap. He slammed the door closed, making me jump, then a metal chain jiggled against the wood, and he opened the door fully. “What are you doing here? You all right?”
“No, I’m not fucking all right! I—ugh!” I huffed. “Never mind. I shouldn’t have come here.”
He grabbed my wrist before I had a chance to run away. He was shirtless and barefoot, wearing only that pair of beach shorts I’d seen him wear repeatedly in the Bahamas. I hated that I knew how good his ass looked in those shorts, even as I fought the urge to tell him to turn around so I could have a look.
Was I panting before I realized he was half-naked? Probably. I’d practically run here I’d been working myself up so much in the car.
“What happened?” he asked, his thumb caressing my wrist.
“Nothing happened.” I half-heartedly tried to twist out of his grip. “I’m just over everything. I feel like I’m drowning half the time, and just as I manage to catch a breath, some other bullshit comes up to push my head under the water. Between Mom and school and this BestLyf—” I cut myself off. Better not to go into detail about all that.
“What about BestLyf?” He frowned. I didn’t blame him for being confused. I was a total rambling mess.
“Never mind. I’m sorry for just showing up like this.” I glanced behind him, mortified that someone may have overheard all that.
Jet chuckled. “There’s no one else here.”
I clung onto the change in topic. “Where is ... uh, who lives here with you?”
“Nobody.” He shrugged. “I live by myself.”
“What?” I blinked, not following. “How? Is that even allowed?”
“I’m not a minor and ...” He sighed. “It’s a long story.”
“Tell me? I need the distraction.” I slid my wrist out of his grip enough to take his hand with mine.
“Maybe someday.” He smiled sadly and looked away.
“Are you embarrassed? I would never judge you.” I seemed like a total bitch to most people, but I thought Jet knew me well enough to know who I was underneath it.
“No, I’m not embarrassed. I just can’t ... it’ll change things and I ... can’t talk about it yet.”
“OK,” I said softly. I knew what it felt like to not want to open all your deepest wounds. Vulnerability was fucking scary.
“You wanna grab something to eat and tell me what’s brought you here all worked up?” He gave me that dimpled smile, paired with that deep look in his eyes. He was clearly deflecting, but I was stubborn. If he wasn’t going to open up, I wasn’t either. And anyway, wasn’t I mad at him? There was a reason I’d refused to speak to him for days.
I dropped his hand, irritation flaring up inside me again. God, my fuse was short tonight.