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Jigsaw: On my way.
I’m tired and need a shower but I can’t stop smiling at my phone.
Me: About to get in the shower. I’ll be ready when you get here.
He responds with a devil-face emoji.
Laughing, I enter my apartment.
“Gretel, I’m home.”
She’s nowhere in sight. I guess if I want someone to greet me at the door, I need to get a dog.
I hurry through my shower, washing the grief and sadness off my skin.
What do people wear to clandestine racetracks in the middle of the night? I wander through my closet, running my fingers over different outfits, and finally land on a pair of jeans. I swipe through my T-shirts and find a black one with an image of a tarot card design of a skeleton holding a black cat. I shove my feet into my favorite blue-and-pink Adidas Gazelles platform sneakers, so I don’t feel so short around all of Jigsaw’s giant friends.
Nerves flutter in my stomach. He’s really introducing me to his sister already? And his friends. What we have is getting more and more real every day.
I grab my keys and my purse and head down to the first floor, bumping into Paul, still wearing the suit he wore for the services today, coming up the stairs.
“Where you off to?” He gives me a tired smile.
“Just out. Meeting some people.”
His lips curl into a teasing smirk. “You’re going out with that biker guy, aren’t you?”
Heat sears my cheeks.
As if the Harley pipes were designed to rat me out, the rumble of Jigsaw’s bike thunders out on the street.
Paul bursts out laughing. “That thing isn’t exactly quiet. I know he’s been here a lot lately.”
“I like him,” I whisper.
“Good.” He squeezes my arm. “Have fun.”
I give him a quick, impulsive hug. “Thanks.”
The engine cuts off near the side of the house and I hurry down the rest of the way.
Jigsaw’s stepping onto the back porch when I open the door. “Hey.”
“Hi, gorgeous.” A broad smile stretches across his face. “You look cute.” He nods to my shirt. “Is The Cat Lady an official tarot card?”
“No. But I thought it was cute.” I close the door behind me and join him outside.
He pulls me into his arms and leans down, brushing his lips over mine. “You’re cute.”
I curl my fingers in his shirt, holding him to me for a few extra seconds. “I’m happy you called.”
“I missed you.” He wraps his gloved hand around mine and we cross the parking lot to the garages.
The cool air coasting over my bare arms feels nice after being in my stuffy blazer all day.
“Shelby will love the shirt,” Jigsaw says as the garage door rolls up. “She’s into reading tarot cards.”
“Really? Is she good at it?”
