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“What do you mean by that?”
“Well, it’s convenient that she married a guy who can take care of her. She doesn’t feel the same way, though. I’m the one shelling out all the money for her trips and hobbies, yet I get nothing in return. She can’t even make a grilled cheese sandwich for me when I work late.”
“I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you.”
“I made a mistake when I let you go. I wish I could take it all back.”
We’re back to that again, and I seriously don’t want to discuss it, especially since I’m upset with Noah.
“JC, I’m falling asleep here, so before I do, I want to say goodbye.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. It’s late, and I don’t think there’s enough coffee to keep me awake if I don’t get at least four hours of sleep.”
“Okay, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
JC hangs up, and I put my phone on silent, placing it down on my nightstand. My mind is going in a million directions. Soon he’ll be free when he divorces. Will he press me even more about getting together again once that happens?
Chapter 13
Three hours later, I’m awake. It’s 2:40 in the morning, and I’m not happy, mainly because of the disturbing dream I experienced. Having visions of your fiancé cheating on you with a mystery woman isn’t comforting. I need someone to talk to and I start wondering if JC is awake and I text him. Should I text him? I do.
Are you awake, or did you finally go to bed?
I’m awake. I went to sleep for about two hours, and now I’m wide awake. If I come over, will you make me breakfast? I haven’t had one of your home-cooked meal in ages.
Is he nuts? He wants to come over so I can cook him breakfast. I seriously think about whether I should say yes. I know I’m not going to sleep, and I hate being in this big apartment by myself, especially when it’s dark out.
I’ll tell you what. If you get me an extra-large cup of Seattle blend from Beansy, then I’ll make you pancakes.
Beansy is a cool little coffee shop a couple of blocks away. They’re open twenty-four hours a day, so I know JC can get me my favorite at this hour.
It’s a deal. Do you have any maple syrup?
Yes. I also have strawberries.
You know a way to this man’s heart. I’ll be over in about twenty minutes.
I start heading to the kitchen and realize that I’m in my panties and t-shirt. I go back to the bedroom to put on the sweatpants I wore earlier. I probably should put a bra on, but I’m in no mood. My breasts are firm enough, maybe not as firm as Brianna’s but not bad for an almost thirty-year-old.
I prepare things while waiting for JC to get here. My hair is hanging in my face, and I find a hairband in the kitchen junk drawer to make a ponytail. By the time JC knocks on the door, I have the batter ready and the pan waiting. The aroma of coffee hits me as I open the door.
I’m surprised to see him carrying a garment bag and a smaller bag with him. I wonder why he brought them.
“What’s with the bags?”
“After you feed me, I’m sure I won’t feel like heading the several blocks to my apartment to get ready for work. I figured I would just do it here if you don’t mind.”
The fact was that I did mind. I felt weird having JC dress in the home that I shared with Noah when he wasn’t here. I decided not to make a big deal out of it, so I just shrugged and busied myself with the pancake batter. I sipped at the coffee, relishing the rich taste as it passed over my tongue, then I started to make pancakes.
We chit chatted about mundane things, anything to keep JC from talking about my ass or whatever other body part he fixated. As it turned out, that fixation was my breasts. I was a bit chilly in the air conditioning and my nipples were straining against the cloth of my t-shirt. I ignored him hoping food would avert his gaze. I placed a plate of stacked pancakes in front of him, but he kept looking at me and making me uncomfortable.
“Try them and tell me if I still make good pancakes.”
“I’m sure you do. They look delicious.”
I handed him the maple syrup, and our fingers touch. He brushes the back of my hand with his thumb before taking the bottle in his hand.
