Chapter 16
Sloan
♪ Girlfriend | Phoenix
When I opened the front door at 6:15, Jason stood there leaning on his arm against the door frame, still laughing.
I put my hands on my hips and glared playfully at him. “I’m glad one of us found that amusing. That was easily the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to me.”
And so much recent content to choose from…
Jason had laughed so hard on the phone through the whole mortifying performance, you could hear him through my cell a foot away.
“I’m sorry, you’re right. Can I come in?” he wheezed.
He looked sooooo good. Even slightly annoyed at him for laughing at me, I had to bite my lip in appreciation. He wore a green flannel with the sleeves rolled up, and his china-blue eyes were gleaming.
They were gleaming at my expense, but still.
I put an arm across the door. “I was musically assaulted today by a roving a cappella group in naval dress whites, and you think it’s funny?”
He crashed into me, hugging me around the waist. I went limp in protest, dropping my arms to my side like noodles, and it made him laugh harder.
“You just don’t realize the effect you have on musicians, Sloan Monroe. So…when do I get to musically assault you?”
I narrowed my eyes, but he kissed me, smiling against my unresponsive, protesting lips. Normally his close proximity made me swoon, but his laughing made me just indignant enough to hold my ground.
“I come bearing gifts,” he whispered, an inch from my mouth, still cracking up.
“It better be good. I’m about ready to throw you into the laundry room with Tucker.”
He let me go, picking up a plastic bag from the steps, and handed it to me, his eyes sparkling. I looked inside and gasped. It was full of tiny creamers.
“I bought five coffees for these,” he said. “When I hit the creamer station, I felt like a Viking on a raid.”
I beamed. “Jason, you pillaged for me? This is so sweet!” But when he leaned in, I turned my face to the side. “Where are my five coffees?”
“Gas station coffee? For a connoisseur like you? I wouldn’t dare.” Then he reached down, around the side of my front porch flowerpot with the petrified geraniums in it, and produced a warm Starbucks cup.
I looked at it and held my breath. “That’s so thoughtful.” I raised my eyes to his. “But I can’t have caffeine this late.”
He smiled. “I know. It’s decaf.”
I had to clutch a hand over my heart. “You realize that repeatedly bringing me my favorite coffee is comparable to feeding a stray cat, right? You might never get rid of me now.”
“Good,” he said, pulling me close to kiss me with an enormous grin. “I was hoping for something like that.”
* * *
After dinner, we watched Top Gun. I rolled my eyes in the right place. Jason had his arm around me and we were snuggled deep into the sofa with a blanket over our laps. Tucker was curled up next to me, sleeping.
The living room was clear. I’d spent last night packing everything into the car. This morning I’d dropped it all off at Goodwill, bracing myself for the punch in the heart, but it never came. And I realized it was actually a relief to let it all go, like I’d been carrying it on my back all this time.
Then I washed my car, because, you know, my car. I couldn’t let Jason see one more unattractive thing about me. I was sure he had a limit somewhere, and my Corolla was enough to make any man run screaming from the garage—not that Jason seemed to care what kind of dumpster fire I was. He’d never met the best version of me, and for some reason he still seemed to want to be here. I was a ghost, wandering the rooms of a museum of the person I used to be, and Jason was like one of the living who could somehow see me and decided to wander the place with me.
I liked that he was willing to wander the place with me.
He twined his fingers in mine on top of the blanket, and I put my head on his shoulder. He pressed a kiss to my forehead, and I could feel him looking down on me long after he finished. I smiled to myself.
Being with Jason in the house I’d shared with Brandon didn’t feel strange. I’d lived here alone four times longer than Brandon had ever lived here with me. But I think the biggest part of it was that even when all his stuff had still been here, this place didn’t feel like Brandon’s. It didn’t even feel like mine.
I’d realized something in the past two days. This house was a mausoleum. And not for the man I lost—for myself.
Once I took out everything that belonged to Brandon, all that was left behind was remnants of me—and it wasn’t the me of now, it was the me of back then. The happy me who’d hung shadow boxes and cooked in the kitchen. The one who painted actual, dignified works of art that I was proud enough to hang on walls. These little mementos were all around me, small reminders of a woman I hadn’t seen since Brandon took off on his motorcycle that morning and never came home. And the thing was I wanted to be that whole again. I missed myself.
I missed being happy.
Tonight was the first time I’d cooked anything that actually required effort in more than two years—and it made me wonder why I hadn’t done it sooner. I loved cooking for people. And I loved seeing Jason enjoying something I could do as much as I enjoyed what he put into the universe.
Kristen was right. I’d chosen this life. And I’d had enough. I was going to make a concerted effort to get out of this in-between I was trapped in. I was going to actively pursue joy. I’d cook. I’d maybe start updating my blog again. I had too many paying commissions to be able to dedicate time to painting any of my own stuff, but maybe eventually I’d even get back to that too. And I was going to start now. Not for Jason. Not because he was here to reap the benefits. For myself. I should have done it a long time ago.
When the credits came on, I stretched and Jason sat up and hit the Power button.
“I need to ask you something,” he said, turning to me.
“If you ask me one more time if I’ve lost that loving feeling—”
He laughed. “Not that.” Then his face went a touch serious. “I’m not seeing anybody else. It occurred to me that maybe you might be dating. I just wanted to make it clear to you that I’m only dating you.”
“Is that a question?” I asked, buying time while I processed what I’d heard.
Even though he hadn’t said it before this, I knew innately that he was seeing only me. I just knew. But I guess it was good we were talking about it.
He smiled a little. “Are you seeing anyone else?”
I snorted. “No, of course not.” The idea was almost laughable. Me? Dating? Besides, I liked him way too much to look at other options. But Jason looked…relieved, maybe?
“I would like it if you and I only dated each other,” he said, looking at me intently.
I shrugged. “Okay.”
“You agree?”
“Yes. I won’t see anyone else. Just you.”
He gazed at me for a moment, something soft playing around the edges of his smile. Then he leaned over and kissed me. It was a gentle, closed-mouthed kiss, and when it was over, he stroked my cheek with his thumb, looking in my eyes. My heart fluttered. Then my cell phone vibrated in my lap and we both looked down, reading the text at the same time.
Kristen: Tomorrow. Get here by 5:00. I want help with the sides. BRING HIM.
I groaned.
“What?” Jason asked.
“Kristen is conspiring to meet you. It’s her birthday tomorrow, and Josh is grilling steaks. She wants me to bring you.”
“Sure,” he said.
I shook my head. “No. It’ll be awful. They’ll make you so uncomfortable. They’re shameless. No.”
“So you’re just going to hide me from your best friend? Forever?”
“Yes. That’s the plan. You don’t understand, I can’t even let her know you’re over here right now. She’ll show up just to show you pictures of me at my eighth-grade dance.”
He laughed. “What time should I pick you up?”
“You really want to do this? It may test our relationship.”
“So you admit it’s a relationship,” he said, smiling at me.
I narrowed my eyes at him, suspecting a trap. “Well, what would you call it?”
“That’s exactly what I’d call it. But you have a tendency to rob me of the titles I’m due.”
“Like what?”
“Like calling our first date an appointment.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine. We’re in…a relationship,” I said, forcing out the last word. It was way early for that, but it kind of was one, I guess. He wasn’t wrong.
“A monogamous relationship,” he added.
“Yes, we’re not dating anyone else, so I suppose that’s also true.”
“So that makes you my girlfriend.”
I choked. “Jason!”
“What? What else would you call it?” He looked completely amused at how flustered I was.
“I don’t know? We’re seeing each other, exclusively. That’s how I’d say it.”
“And that would make me your boyfriend,” he said, his eyes dancing.
He was right. And I was terrified.
“We’ve only known each other for two weeks,” I said. “This is only our third date.”
He shook his head. “I don’t care.”
I bit my lip. “Jason, I take that status really seriously.”
“I hope so, because so do I. Look, I don’t care what the rule books say we should be doing right now. I like you. You like me. We agree that we’re exclusively seeing each other. And I want you to be able to tell random a cappella groups that hit on you that you have a boyfriend.”
Then he leaned in and kissed me. “And your boyfriend should definitely know your best friend.”