When I was twelve, I thought I knew how to handle Jesse, his torments, and bullying. When I was a teenager, I made sure I tried giving it back to him even though I could never get to his level of torment. As an adult, it was not easier to handle him when he was going out of character. Young Jesse was wild, reckless, and alive. Adult Jesse was all mask on, unless he wanted you to see it. Adult Jesse disarmed me. He was more chatty, yet not saying anything. He was more attentive. More flirty. He could probably charmed you into giving him your life. He certainly charmed me into staying in his house.
For a few hours. That was what I said. I was staying for a few hours. Have my breakfast and lunch, but dinner? Dinner would be in the comfort of my own kitchen.
Jesse was making breakfast. This was a sight I thought I would never see-me sitting on a barstool watching him cook breakfast for me. This felt so unreal to me I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn't hallucinating, but the funny thing was, I wouldn't have hallucinated this moment at all. I wouldn't have considered it on my mind because this was something out of character, for the both of us. It was like taking an engine of a car and trying to put it on a bicycle. It made no sense.
The morning sunshine burned my vision, which was like a slap to the face because nothing could get any brighter when it was the two of us alone. Jesse's kitchen was all stainless counters and concrete floors.
"I can feel your eyes on me. I swear if I was going to poison you, I'd make sure I do it where you can see it."
I took too long to respond, and he half turned, swinging his gaze over his shoulder as if to make sure I was still present.
"I'm only looking," I muttered. "Are you going to put restrictions on my eyes next?"
"I could practically hear all the scenarios in your head, Iris." He turned around and moved up to the counter, setting a cup in front of me. It was a freaking latte, not coffee. I wanted coffee.
"That would mean I was thinking about you and I wasn't," I retorted, as the toaster popped up.
Jesse shook his head with a low chuckle. "Thinking about your shop, then?" He cut me another glance when I remained quiet again. I averted my gaze, wrapping my fingers around the cup I picked up. "Are you embarrassed to talk about it?"
"I'm not embarrassed. Why would I be? There's nothing to be embarrassed about. Dreams get crushed."
"Okay." He laughed. "We can talk about the other embarrassing thing." He finished buttering up one of the pieces of toast and placed it in front of me, leaning over the counter to add, "How did you know where I lived? Stalker much?"
I almost choked. It amused him. He did that deliberately, didn't he?
"We run in the same circle, Jesse," I casually pointed out. "If I didn't know where you lived, it would have been weird. I didn't think you would have believed me if I told you I didn't know." Our circle was pretty small. It included us and my family.
Jesse leaned his back against the counter, thankfully wearing a shirt now, and sipped his own latte. "What's weird is giving my address to the Uber driver." He grinned smugly.
"Don't look so smug. You were the one who called me last night. You were my last conversation, so of course I'd think about you. Don't make it weirder than you taking care of me and me staying over."
He barked out a laugh, making his entire chest bulged up. His biceps flexed on purpose. I gritted my teeth and looked away. The image of him shirtless still haunted me. I didn't want more of him to distract me. A shudder passed through me at the memory.
"Something bothering you?" his voice caught through my thoughts.
"Uh...mum still hasn't called you?"
"You want me to call her?"
"You know what I mean." I glared. "How did she know about the shop? It's not even finalized yet."
"You underestimate how nosy your mother is."
I pulled a face. That was true. One time in middle school, mum almost broke into my principal's computer to check whether my classmates' grade for a science project was higher than mine, or the time I got a part in a play and she had to know what roles everyone got.
I ponded on a thought when I glanced at my phone on the counter. It was switched off. That would save me a few hours from her. I looked up at Jesse, my shoulders bunched together. "Everyone knows?" I asked, licking my lips.
"Yeah..." he trailed off, hitting the screen of his phone. "Jason offered to help you, but I know how that will end. I think it's just his guilt eating at him for the way he treated you last time. Kelly's been giving him shit ever since that night."
"He deserves worse."
He laughed, pausing to look at me. "For once, I agree." His lips curved just slightly. It turned quiet for a few seconds. "Are you really going to give up?"
I shrugged. "Looks like it."
He glanced at me before turning and tossing something into the trash can. "Okay."
"Oh, wow."
Jesse didn't look back as he started washing his plate and cup. "What?"
"Look at you for once not snooping," I mused, staring at his back.
He turned off the tap and dried his hands with a towel, raising his eyes until our eyes met. "I'm trying this new thing where I mind my business," he remarked, leaning against the counter once again, his fingers gripping the edge.
"You?" I fake-gasped, clutching my chest. "Minding your own business?" I shook my head and let my hand fall, surveying him with a curve to my lips. "Well, how's that working for you?"
"You were my first try. How did I do?"
I snorted. "What made you suddenly want to mind your business, Jesse? If I recall, you were in everyone's business in high school. Every breakup drama had your name in it. Every tears and every gossip. I mean, your name was freaking passed around in the teacher's lounge."
Even after he graduated, they still whispered his name in the halls. To this day, I still haven't told him how terrorized I had been in high school. Girls came to ask me about him and what he liked, if he had a girlfriend. While the guys gave me a threatening message for him to stay away from their girlfriends. There was one incident that still makes me shiver-when some guy cornered me and shoved me into the lockers, punching the wall above my head. I went home trembling, and I couldn't go to school for two days. I had to pretend to be sick because the encounter had traumatized me.
It was bad enough that I had to hear about him in school, but I also had to face him at home too. Jesse had lived with us for a year when his parents went on a cruise. Those three hundred and sixty-five days had been a nightmare that I never wanted to relive again. There were no words to how awful those days had been.
Jesse tried not to show his grin, his teeth catching on his lower lip as if to rein it in. "I was just a nice person," he shot. "It wasn't my fault my name was abused in high school, and the teachers loved me because I was a good student. Straight A's. Never late. Captain of the debate team. Never missed a day in school."
"There were two other people who got straight A's, but I didn't see them being talked about in the teacher's lounge."
"Fine." He huffed out an entertained laugh. "Maybe I kept a good relationship with people." A pause. His gaze bore into me so hard it prickled my heart. "Except you, of course."
His chuckle rubbed over me.
"There's no way everyone liked you."
Amusement gleamed in his eyes. He assessed me, the tip of his finger idly stroking his lower lip. "Iris, we grew up together. If there was someone who hated me, I'd count on you to befriend them just so you could make yourself feel better."
Annoyance caught at the back of my throat. "Jesus, you make it sound as if my life mission is to passionately hate you."
"No doubt that's the area you exceed well in."
"I don't even know where you got your cockiness from. Your parents sure made a mistake with you." We glared at each other from the opposite sides of the counter.
His voice was a soft thread cutting through the silence. "I'd be sure to tell them that the next time I talk to them. I know they'd be happy to know you still haven't changed one bit, but I bet they already know since you haven't returned their calls."
"They told you that?" My cheeks went a light shade of red. I thought he did not know that I kept sending his mother's calls to voicemail, or that he was aware she kept in contact with me. It wasn't always like that. Grace and I had a good relationship when I was a kid. My relationship with her turned sour when she begged my parents to let Jesse stay with us for a year. If I could write the things I had to go through in those three hundred and sixty-five days, she would understand why I had to cut my relationship with her. She was the reason why I hated high school. The only time I had been happy in that school was when he and my brother graduated. I only had one year of peace.
"My mum called you on several occasions and you didn't call her back. I told her not to expect anything from you. If you couldn't care less about your family, how could you care for others?"
"I'm not some heartless bitch you're trying to make me out to be." It was unfair if that was how people saw me. I had faced injustice my entire life by the same people that expected me to be nice to them.
He didn't blink when he retorted, "Then tell me why you haven't kept in touch with any of your friends from high school and college. Remember them? When was the last time you called them? Talked to them? Do you ever wonder why you have no friends?"
My back grew cold and my shoulders tensed. "I never said I wanted any," I responded, clenching my teeth. Friendship was something I was not good at. I could never keep a friendship, which was why my relationship with Viv came as a surprise for me.
"Yeah, of course. You think you can survive alone, by yourself." He snorted. That was insulting.
"I can." My temper rose. "Why does it bother you so much that I'm not you? That I don't need to depend on anyone? I don't please people, Jesse. I actually do things I love and I don't fake it."
He was quick to pick apart what I had said like he had done so many times. Like he had done for years. "Sometimes, it's not all about faking, Iris," he told me, sounding strained. "You never know if a day would come where you would need help from someone, and if you didn't keep a good relationship with them, do you think they would help you?"
"There's something called keeping personal feelings aside." Funny how I was trying to preach something I never worked on myself.
"You think you have the solution to everything, huh? If that's the case, why are you sitting here? In my kitchen? Why don't you have a job? Why don't you have friends? Why do you never get invited anywhere?" he listed off all my weakest points with a mock. Jesse leaned over the counter, his eyes bright with cruelty. "Why does your own family never visit you?"
The bitterness I tasted in my mouth was strong. Jesse had put me in a bottle, aiming to cut off my circulation. My hands trembled under his penetrating gaze and his words circulated around my head.
"Go to hell."
He stared at me, something fierce flashing in those eyes until he backed down. He realized his mistakes, but it was already too late. Whether or not he was going to apologize, I didn't stick around to find out.
--
It was an hour before I decided there was no reason I had to hide in the guest room. I was a lot of things, but a coward was not one of them.
I was leaving the kitchen with a glass of water in hand when my hair got caught on something. It was a startling incident that had me crying out from pain and the cup slipped between my fingers and shattered to the floor.
Fifteen seconds later, Jesse ran into the room, eyes wide with alert.
"What? What happened?" he said, panic-stricken. He looked around as if he was trying to find the culprit that had broken into the home, but there was no one except the two of us. When he noticed the situation, he let out a small, "Shit. Hold on."
"No, wait," I quickly said, halting his steps. "There are glasses around." My eyes followed all the pieces of the shattered cup around me. I may not have said the words out, but my action clearly spoke be careful. I was glad he didn't give me a weird look for wordlessly saying that.
Jesse tiptoed over to me, careful not to step on any glass. He took a handful of my hair in his hands when he got closer, trying to locate the strand and what my hair was caught on.
"Can you unwrap it?" I asked, dreadfully adding, "Don't tell me I need to cut the piece off. You know what? I'd just try to get myself out-"
"Stop squirming," he interrupted when I tried to move. "You will only hurt yourself and you can't get out of this alone, so stay still."
I clamped my mouth shut and stilled my movements because it hurt to move and I would only end up tugging my scalp. Jesse worked his way around my hair, untangling it from whatever had snagged it. I was aware of everything he was doing, as well as his proximity. It took a few moments before he got the strand free and stepped back from me.
"See? No need to cut any piece off," he mused, and the last strand of my hair slipped from his fingers.
"Thanks." I rubbed the spot where the root had been yanked, feeling the sting. "You saved me a trip to the salon."
"Yeah, you're lucky you're not bald."
I rolled my eyes and combed through my hair with my fingers, fixing the messy strands. Shoving him out of my way, he chuckled and followed me into the kitchen.
Somewhere in the middle of him going through the fridge to get a bottle of water, I allowed myself to observe him for a moment, wondering why he had fewer faults than I had. He always had his life figured out. He knew what he wanted, and he knew how to control his fate. I couldn't help but feel jealous. I've always been jealous of him. He had everything. He was smart and people loved him. He knew how to keep a friendly smile, and he was good at all his relationships.
The phone that rang in my pocket reminded me that I was going to call mum and get it over with. Eventually, I would have to talk to her, and I would rather do it now. Seeing mum's name flashing on my screen made me cringed, and for a moment, I considered turning it off. But I couldn't avoid her any longer. I glanced at Jesse before answering.
She was surprised when I picked up.
"Hey, mum."
She started right in, almost rendering me deaf for a moment. "Iris! Where have you been? Do you have any idea how worried I was? Where are you?"
"Mum, slow down. I'm fine. I've just been busy."
"Busy?" she repeated hysterically. "So busy that you couldn't call your mother who almost had a heart attack when she couldn't find her own daughter? Do you know the thoughts that went through my head when everyone that I called said they didn't know where you were?"
I rubbed my temple. "I'm sorry that I didn't call. My battery died and I couldn't find my charger."
Jesse spent a great deal of time pouring his water into a glass. He took two sips and refilled it before turning around. I looked back at him.
"Jesse didn't tell you?" I added, holding his gaze. "He knew where I was. I don't know why he didn't tell you and let your worry about me like that."
He huffed a chuckle of disbelief and placed his glass down, rubbing his temples. His deep brown eyes seared into me as my lips curved.
"Honestly, mum," I continued, "The sooner you realize that you've all been blind to who he is, the more you will understand why I act the way I do. Anyway..." I shook my head, changing the subject, ignoring the way he rolled his eyes. "Why did you call? Everything okay?"
"I'm sorry about the shop," she mumbled, her voice cracking. "I know you don't want me to take care of your problems, but I'm your mother. I have the right to be worried about my daughter."
"I'm not saying you shouldn't, but I'm only asking that you don't interfere." I let out a deep breath. "Dad understands that."
"I'm sorry, Iris. I should have respected your feelings. I should have listened to Jesse when he told me to let you work things out yourself. I thought by pushing myself to help you, there won't be a distance between us. I feel like I've always let you down."
Jesse watched me, moving in closer. His head inclined toward me and his mouth was flat, so I knew he could hear mum. He had always thought me as a bad daughter. Never nice and never considered my parent's feelings, especially my mother's.
I sighed. I was annoyed. Not at her, but at myself. For allowing things to go this far. "No, mum, I'm sorry for making you feel like that. I've been pretty awful lately and I want to make it up to you. Can we have lunch later if you promise not to bring up the shop again?"
"Yes, I'd like that very much."
Mum being happy made me happy, so when I dropped the call after we set a time and found a place, Jesse had walked around the counter. His hand came to the back of my neck as he gripped me, tugging me toward him.
Bending down so his forehead was almost touching mine, he said, "Look at you finally maturing. Maybe I'm rubbing off on you."
"The last thing I would ever think is you being matured." I rolled my eyes and tried to move his hand away, but his hand tightened on my neck.
"You're right," he replied with a slight tilt to his mouth. "Maybe if I was matured enough, I would have understood that giving you the receipt of my car is a terrible idea. But what do I know? I've been known not to use my head sometimes." He stared at me, long and hard, and let go of my neck. He stepped back, his arms going back to his pockets, hunching his shoulders forward.
I gripped the receipt in my hand, dreading to see the zeroes on it because I knew there would be zeroes. More zeroes I could bear.
"Don't worry about it. I always pay my debts." I slipped off the chair. "And thank you for last night. It will never happen again."
Jesse inclined his head. "I trust you."
Squinting my eyes at him, I fixed him a glance from head to toe. "You're all dressed up," I noted, swallowing a little. Jesse was incredibly handsome. Hands down the hottest man I had ever met in my life, not that he would ever know.
"Scared I'm going to steal your heart?" he wondered with a devious smile, inching towards me just to make this even more awkward.
Again, I rolled my eyes. "Please."
"I'm trying to point out we would never work, anyway." He shrugged, his eyes scanning the length of me as though he was imagining what I would look like naked. "I got a call from Viv about an author that got out of a deal with a publishing company, so I got all dressed up for her."
"Because you think she's so shallow that your pretty face would make her sign with you?"
"I was going to say I was aiming to look presentable and someone who knows what he's doing in the literary world." He laughed. "I'd pay a million bucks to take a glimpse of your head every day."
I shot him a glare. "You could have just said that."
"And miss the chance to hear you call my face pretty? No way." He chuckled, then turned his wrist around to check the time. "I'm going to be out for two hours. Are you still going to be here when I'm back?"
"Are you kicking me out?"
"I'm deciding whether I should leave you here alone."
"I'm not going to burn down your house if that's what you're worried about."
Jesse stepped up into my space. "That's not what I'm worried about," he murmured, and before I could step away, he clasped my wrists into a tight hold, stretching my arms behind my back.
Oh, my god.
"Jesse, let me go," I said instantly, feeling a rush to my head. "You can't be-this isn't you."
A grin split across his face as he edged closer. "I'm learning a lot about myself as days go by."
I tried to free my hands, but his grip tightened and he trapped me against the wall. I panicked. "You hate me," I wanted to remind him, trying to sound forceful and hateful, but my breaths were so quick it almost felt like I was going to choke on it.
"Hmm. Almost forgot." He pushed away from me and his lips curled. "I've got to go, don't wanna be late." He turned around. "Don't touch my things," he warned.
"You don't tell me what to do-"
He spun around so quickly and backed me into the wall before I had time to swallow in a gasp.
"Once you walked into my house," he said, his hot breath fanning my face. "Everything I say goes. I make the rules here, Iris, and you would do well to remember that." He spun me around before I could take an inhale, pressing my front against the wall and pinning my arms to my back. "Do not touch my stuff. Don't go into my room."
I drew in a tight breath and tried to wiggle out of his hold, but he pressed his body into mine. "Don't forget that," he added. He let go and took a few steps back.
I spun around and massaged my wrists, glaring at him. He smiled, and before I could open my mouth to a word, he was already gone.