Elise
Well, wonders never ceased. Iâd gone on a date last night, and it had actually gone well.
Conner was super cute and not the least bit clingy. As it turned out, he had bigger aspirations than flower delivery. Even though Iâd told Jack I didnât mind the delivery job, it was confusing why a twenty-seven-year-old wouldnât have moved on to something else. Turned out Conner was studying to be a CPA and doing the delivery gig on the side until he finished school. As far as future careers went, that one was stable, if incredibly boring. But to each his own.
I walked down the hallway, balancing a laundry basket on my hip. Jack was at some team meeting and had been gone since early this morning, which had seemed excessive for a weekend afternoon, but he was a bigwig. I supposed it made sense.
Heâd been gone a lot lately. I appreciated the alone time, but when he didnât get home until late, it felt off. Iâd gotten used to him working in the room across the hall and being here when I returned from dates. The apartment was too quiet when he was gone.
And I was extremely frustrated with myself for thinking so.
Life had been lonelier at the roach apartment, with only my belligerent neighbor for daily interactions, and that was what Iâd wanted. So why was I getting attached to my roommate? And Jack, of all people?
Noâjust no.
I entered the living room and turned up the music I streamed through some fancy device Jack had spent twenty minutes patiently explaining. I sang off-key while I folded his surprisingly expensive designer boxer briefs. I did not take him for a fancy guy, but when I looked at the labels of his clothes (they were staring at me, so of course I looked), they were brands I recognized as upscale.
The man was casual with good taste, and apparently spent big bucks on clothes that hugged hisâ¦
Stay away from it.
I was trying to block romantic thoughts of Jack from my mind, and Iâd succeededâ¦to some degree. Occasionally. Okay, rarely.
The night we slept together Iâd been in some sort of post-sleepwalking stupor. Iâd kissed him without thinking. Jack had always been somewhat cranky toward me, so it had taken me by surprise when he returned my kiss. But however murky the physical details of that night were, the emotions remained in Technicolorâ¦
Jackâs strong hands had cupped my face, and his eyes were so dark I couldnât make out the green. But the intent behind his gaze had been clearâ¦filled with lust and something decidedly more.
I squeezed my eyes closed, but it didnât matter, because I could still feel the touch of his lips, cherishing and worshiping me⦠Gah, stop thinking about it!
I sang at the top of my lungs to the chorus of a Taylor Swift song, my voice cracking predictably right as the doorbell rang. Lunging over the laundry basket, I nearly fell in the process of answering the door. But a solicitor was preferable to where my thoughts had wandered.
When I looked through the peephole, an older man was standing in front of the door, and he didnât give off a solicitor vibe. He appeared frail, so not exactly the serial killer type either.
I opened the door without the chain.
The manâs eyes widened in surprise. He leaned back and peered at what I imagined was the apartment number beside the door. âIâm looking for Jackâ¦â He glanced past me into the apartment, his brow furrowed. âHavenât been here in a while, and my sonâs friend recently remodeled the building. Did I stop at the wrong place?â
âNo, no, this is it,â I said. âCome on in.â I stepped aside to let him pass, but Jackâs dad looked befuddledâand I was right there with him.
This little old man was Jackâs dad?
His hair was wispy, and he had dark circles under his eyes. He was a few inches shorter than Jack and very thin.
âIâm Elise,â I said. âHisâ¦â Oh, shit! Would Jack want me calling myself his girlfriend or his roommate? Shit, shit!
Sensing my hesitation, Jackâs dad held out his hand. âIâm Tom. Itâs nice to meet you.â He looked around. âIs my son here?â
âHeâs been working in the office lately.â
Tomâs chin jerked back. âThe office? Really?â
I chuckled. âItâs a change, for sure.â I made my way into the kitchen and asked Tom to have a seat at the counter. âCan I get you something to drink?â I opened the fridge and hesitated. âWe have beer andâ¦beer. Ah!â I said, happily. âThereâs also orange juice.â
Tom smiled. âIâll take a glass of orange juice if itâs not too much trouble.â
I poured a glass and set it in front of him. âDid Jack know you were coming?â
âNo, I was in the neighborhood and thought Iâd swing by. He hasnât returned my calls.â The look on Tomâs face was more than worry.
I pulled out my phone. âI can try him. See where he is.â
Tom waved off my suggestion. âHeâll reach out when heâs ready.â
That was a strange response, but I smiled, suddenly unsure of everything. âDo you live in town?â It would be strange if I hadnât heard about Jackâs father or seen him even though he was in town.
Tom took a sip of his juice and set down the glass, nodding. âIâm right over at Fillmore and Sutter.â
So not far. And definitely in town.
âHow long have you lived with Jack?â Tom said, catching me off guard. But at least this question I could answer easily.
âJust a couple of weeks. Itâs new.â
He nodded. âHow did you meet my son?â
Also an easy question to answer. âMy sister rented the second bedroom for a while before she started dating Max.â
A bright smile lit Tomâs face. âIâve heard of your sister. Heard Max, my boy, fell hard for her.â
I poured myself water and stood at the counter across from Tom. âMax is a lot to put up with,â I quipped. âBut he keeps up a steady supply of artisan chocolate for my sister, so he has that going for him.â
Tom laughed. âThat boy has a sweet tooth.â
âDid Jack tell you that Max used to sneak down and steal Sophiaâs gourmet chocolate when she wasnât at home?â
Tom shook his head. âHe did not tell me this, but it doesnât surprise me. He and Jack used to clean out my pantry every afternoon. Never saw anything like it. You wouldnât believe the food bill I had back then.â
I nodded. âI can envision it. Jack is a garbage disposal. I fed him the worst dinner the other night, and he gobbled it up like it was filet mignon instead of burned beef patties.â
Tom laughed, his cheeks turning rosy with mirth. âThere were plenty of dinners I made after Jackâs mother passed where that kid didnât bat an eye. Overcooked vegetables, oversalted meatâhe ate it all.â Tomâs expression softened into one of sadness. âI think he didnât want to complain. My sweet wife took pity on me early on over my lack of skills in the kitchen, and she did most of the cooking.â He shook his head, then looked up and smiled, though the sorrow lingered. âIâm glad Jack has someone now. Glad heâs got you in his life.â
Iâd opened my mouth to correct him when the front door swung wide. I must not have shut it fully.
Jack stepped inside. âDad? What are you doing here?â