Jack
Normally, the homemade stuffed manicotti of my favorite neighborhood eatery put me in a good mood, but not tonight. Because Hot Stuff hadnât texted me back, and I was about to lose my mind.
Where the hell was she? Had she ignored my text and gone out with that guy? What was wrong with this woman?
Iâd held off running home, but only just, because I didnât want her to think I cared that much. My reconnaissance with Max on the floor above suggested Elise wasnât at his place either. So I stayed behind and watched my dadâs new favorite reality show with him, worrying over Elise the entire time and disturbed at how entertaining the show was.
I should tell Elise about it. Sheâd get a kick out of the family drama in this oneâ¦
What was I thinking? Elise wouldnât be around long enough to finish the series with me. Episodes were streaming weekly, and she was moving out in two weeks.
For some reason, that reminder soured my mood further.
I checked a few things around Dadâs placeâbulbs all looked good and the place was clean, thanks to the cleaners I sent over weekly. Only one bill was sitting on the kitchen table, which I stuffed in my back pocket.
When I couldnât hold out any longer, I said goodbye to my dad and headed home.
All was quiet in the building as I made my way up. I punched in the access code and entered the apartment, hoping to find Elise in my boxers and T-shirt, sitting on the couch with her feet kicked up. A smile pulled at the corners of my mouth. She looked good in my clothes. I should burn hers more often.
But the living room and kitchen were mostly dark, illuminated by the stove light Iâd left on. It didnât seem like anyone had been home, and my pulse kicked up a notch. Had something happened to her?
âElise?â
And then I heard it. The sound of her giggling in her bedroom. I sighed in relief.
Until her giggles were followed by a manâs voice. She wouldnât bring that douche here, would she?
My skin prickled and my head pounded. I hated the idea of another man in my home. Especially one who was two-timing Elise.
I stormed to her bedroom and knocked once, then I swung open the door.
Elise turned her pretty head to me, her expression surprised. âJack? Whatâs wrong?â
My gaze zeroed in on the man sitting casually on her bed. He wore jeans and a black T-shirt, and his hair was slicked back with some kind of ridiculous hair product. He wasnât touching herâand that was all that saved his ass.
Because it was the delivery fucker.
âDid you get my text?â Heat rose up my neck, and I glared at the guy.
Elise glanced between us, seemingly wondering whom I was talking to. She figured it out because she said, âOh, um, no. I forgot my phone when I left to help Sophia, and I havenât been back. Why? What happened? Is your dad okay?â She hurried into the bathroom, grabbing the phone where Iâd last seen it.
Who the hell went on a date with a stranger and didnât bring their phone? Anything could have happened to her. Did she have no survival skills?
Without giving her a chance to read the text, I stared at the douchebag and said, âHe needs to leave. Now.â
She glanced at her date, who was beginning to look nervous. Possibly from the flexing I was doing. âJack, what the hell is wrong with you?â She stepped closer and tried to push me out of the room.
I crossed my arms, not budging.
Elise struck a similar pose. âJust because we live together, that does not give you the right to tell me who I can and cannot see,â she said. But I was too busy glaring at Dickhead, whoâd had the good sense to stand and move toward the door.
âIf youâd read my texts,â I said slowly, angrily, âyouâd know why this guy must leave. Iâve sent you six, by the way.â I glared at the man whoâd stopped a couple of feet from me because I was blocking the door. âHeâs the neighborhood gigolo. I caught him kissing 2240.â
Elise scrunched her nose in confusion. âTwenty-two⦠Oh, across the street? The well-preserved wife?â
I nodded.
âIâll call you later, Elise,â Dickhead said and scurried out of the bedroom after I grudgingly stepped aside.
âWait!â Elise called after him. âIs that true?â
The front door slammed shut.
Heâd reached it fast. Must have run.
I peered down at her, arms still crossed. âYou donât believe me?â
Her expression was one of confusion and exasperation. âHow do you know it was him?â
âHe was wearing his work uniformâthe hot-pink Luscious Stems shirt. And I saw his face.â
Her chest deflated, and she stepped back and sank onto her bed. âDamn, we had fun tonight. I guess itâs back to the drawing board.â She pulled out her phone and opened the dating app that was the bane of my existence.
The sound that came out of my throat was more animal than human. âStop, just stop.â
âWhat are you talking about?â she said, but she was still scrolling through the faces of nameless men.
I grabbed her phone. âQuit dating. At least until you move out.â
She stared at me like Iâd lost my mind. Which I had. âWhat are you talking about? Whatâs wrong with me dating?â
âMen are assholes. Except for me.â
She just stared, a look of disbelief on her face.
âFine, sometimes Iâm an asshole tooâ¦with you. Normally, Iâm the one getting screwed over.â
She rubbed her eyes. âI donât see what this has to do with me. Look, I appreciate you telling me about the delivery guy. He was fun, but not worth that particular headache, though I canât fault his taste. Maybe I should date our neighbor and give up on men for a while.â She seemed totally serious.
I tipped my head to the side. âCan you do that?â
She pouted. âNo. Iâm straight as an arrow, and it really sucks because I might have better luck with women.â
âI doubt it. Your taste in partners sucks.â
She huffed out a gust of air. âAnd yours doesnât?â
Fuck, she had me there.
Her eyes narrowed, seemingly seeing through me. âYou canât honestly expect me to stay home for two weeks.â
âWhy not?â I said, like it made the most sense in the world.
She compressed her mouth as though she couldnât believe how I was behaving. I couldnât either, so we were on the same page there. âI donât know why youâd want me to not date, but the answer is no, I wonât stay home. I need to get out.â She said that last part cryptically.
I rubbed my neck. I wasnât making senseâI knew that. But I couldnât seem to help myself. Shit, even my dad was on Eliseâs side.
None of this made sense. Unless⦠âYou donât need to use apps. Iâll take you on dates.â