“A little of both,” Seth replied, grabbing his bag from the car. He waited as Mom and I gathered our wrappers and drinks from the table, deposited them in the trash can, and then I walked them to the door.
Seth was greeted enthusiastically by a tall, thin lady standing near a gentleman who might’ve been her husband. I heard her beg Seth to do her makeup with a dramatic eye for some activity they were attending that evening.
“I’ve got you covered, Elsie,” Seth said with the biggest grin. “Let me set up in the common room.”
“I told you Seth would take care of me, Harold,” she told the gentleman, who smirked and shook his head. I watched them walk down the hall, Elsie’s arm looped through Seth’s as she chatted away. He looked back one more time before they turned the corner, and threw me a wink that warmed my stomach.
I was so wrapped up in watching them, I didn’t even notice Mom closely scrutinizing me. “What?”
“Nothing. Glad you found a friend.” She kissed my cheek, then waved as she headed back to work.
When I got to my car, I started the engine, but then sat in the parking lot, my thoughts swirling about Seth and how in his element he looked not only in his new car, but with the couple inside.
I pulled out my phone, scrolled to my texts with him, and typed: Happy looks good on you.
21
Seth
Backpack slung over my shoulder and a bag of Thai food in my hand, I walked up to Jake’s house.
After his text earlier, telling me happy looked good on me, we’d made plans for me to head over tonight—to stay over again. I was basically dying of happiness inside, so I was hoping it really did look good on me.
Before I could knock on the door, he pulled it open. He was wearing jeans with no shirt, which I wasn’t going to complain about. I loved Jake’s chest and the way the hair felt against my face.
“Hey,” he said with a smile. “Here, let’s get this stuff inside, and then I want to see your car.”
“Okay.”
He took the food and set it on the table, I placed my backpack on a chair, and then we headed back out to the car.
“Can I?” Jake asked, pointing to the driver’s door, and I nodded. It meant a lot to me that he always asked my permission for things, that he never assumed or tried to take control. He was a caretaker at heart, but not a stifling one. My mom controlled so much of my life. It felt good when Jake respected me enough not to try and take over.
“Of course.” I tossed him the keys and adjusted the baseball cap on my head. I watched as he pushed the seat back as far as it would go before climbing into the driver’s seat. “You hardly fit,” I teased.
“Are you telling me I don’t look good in your car?” he countered playfully.
“I’m pretty sure you look good all the time.” My eyes darted away, and I bit my lip.
“Hey.” His voice was husky, and it rubbed over my skin with the most welcomed kind of roughness. My eyes found him again, and he added, “You too.”
“Thanks.” I curtsied, just to be funny. If I didn’t, I was probably going to explode in embarrassing giddiness all over him.
He nodded and went back to the car. He started it, looked under the hood, and asked all sorts of car questions, stuff I wasn’t into, but I was definitely into watching him.
When he finished, he turned off my Mini Cooper and said, “You did good. She’s a good car.”
“Thank you.”
“What made you do it?”
I thought for a moment, pushed my hands into my pockets, and said, “It was time, I guess. Why shouldn’t I have the kind of car I want? I’m tired of feeling trapped, if that makes sense. Like I’m living out someone else’s life. I know it’s dumb. It’s a car. It doesn’t really change anything. But it felt good.” And it was because of him that I even had the guts to do it, but I didn’t tell him that part.
Jake got out of the car, closed the door, and cupped my cheek. I loved the way his big hand felt against my face. The gentleness with which he touched me.
“It doesn’t sound dumb. I think it’s pretty great.” Then, as if realizing what he was doing in public, Jake dropped his hand quickly and stepped back. “Anyway, we should go eat. It’s going to be cold by now. I didn’t mean to stay out here as long as we did.”
“It’s fine.”
We were quiet as we went inside. We plated our food and warmed it up in the microwave before eating at the table together. Jake asked me about Elsie and Harold, and what kind of look I gave her, and which songs I played at the facility. “You make a point to do that,” I found myself saying.
“What?”
“Talking to people about what’s important to them, even if it’s not something you’re into. It’s an awesome quality. Not many people have it. It shows you really care. I mean, not about me. I’m not saying you really care about me or don’t or that you like, care about me or anything. Oh my God, shut up, Seth!” I covered my face with my hands. The room was silent, so I spread my first two fingers and peeked through them at Jake.
“Jesus, you fucking kill me. Why are you so goddamned adorable?” Then he stood, leaned over the table, and pried my hands away from my face. “Can I kiss you?”
“Yes.” My voice had its own roughness to it when I replied, laced with want.
Jake pressed his lips to mine, teased the seam with his tongue. I opened up, and he slipped it inside. He cupped my face again, this time with both hands, before one slid down and held the back of my neck. Needy sounds filled the room, and it took me a moment to realize they were coming from me. Jake groaned in response, then pulled away.
“You go straight to my head,” he said softly, in awe, like it confused him.
“Yeah, you too…with me, I mean.”
He smiled, kissed the tip of my nose, then grabbed my plate. “When do you start back to school?”
“Not until the end of August.”
He set the dishes in the sink, then nodded toward the living room. I followed him over, and we sat on the couch.
“So you still have some time.”
“Yep. Thankfully. Mom wanted me to do this internship she arranged. If I’d taken it, I wouldn’t have been able to work at the Underground or keep volunteering at Rose City.” I wouldn’t have gotten to meet him.
“If it’s not something you want to do, I’m glad you didn’t do it.”
“Oh God. It’s not. I hate it. I don’t want to talk about that, though.”
“Okay, let’s talk about what you do like, then.”
Again, respect. He didn’t push.
“Makeup,” I replied. “And the piano.”
“But you don’t want to play music for a living? I mean, outside of the Underground. I know you said you wanted cosmetology school.”
“No, the piano is just for me, if that makes sense. It’s relaxing, and I like sharing it with people, but I don’t want a career in it.” Feeling brave, I scooted closer to him. Jake watched as I slowly reached for his arm. He let me lead as I lifted it, then crawled under it to nuzzle his side. He chuckled and wrapped his arm around me. I wouldn’t have had the courage to do that with anyone else other than Jesse, but this felt weightier because while Jake and I were friends too, I wanted more than that with him.