Page 59 of Never Pucking Ending

Lines form between his brows. “Your meet—oh shit. The planning board. That’s tomorrow?”

He forgot. That’s okay. It’s totally okay if he can’t make it. It isn’t his problem anyway. It’s my business and my responsibility. “Yep,” I say as casually as possible even though I’m nervous as hell. “I’m as ready as I can be. But you know how I get with public speaking. They’re only going to ask me a couple questions, but it’s still nerve-wracking.”

Jesse’s shoulders slump and a wave of defeat as a crestfallen expression enter his features. “I thought it was next week.”

I rub my lips together, focusing on the machine for a second to hide my disappointment. I’ve told him plenty of times, but he’s busy. I can’t fault him for not remembering when he’s got a million things going on in his life. And we haven’t been talking as much as normal, so it’s kind of on me not reminding him. “That’s okay.”

“It isn’t.”

When I peak at him, he’s shaking his head. “I can come. I will come.”

Warmth wraps around my heart at his determination. “Jesse—”

“I’ll be there,” he promises, nodding and starting his usual stretching warmups. “Just send me the address again and I’ll make it work.”

Knowing there’s no point in arguing when he gets like this, I nod. I’m grateful for him. No matter how many bickering matches we get into, we always find a way to get past it. This wouldn’t be the first time he’s annoyed me and made up for it, and I’m sure I’ve gotten on his nerves a time or five too.

The next ten minutes go by quickly, and it isn’t until I’m powering down the treadmill and watching him do his weight training exercises when I say, “I forgive you, so you don’t need to keep bringing me stuff. I got over it after the first day. I would appreciate it if you didn’t crash anymore dates in the future, though. Deal?”

Slowly, Jesse stops doing his bicep curls and reracks the weights. His eyes flicker up at me through the giant mirror on the wall and he watches me step off the treadmill and come over to him. I hold out my hand, but I don’t offer it to shake. I stick my pinky out like we used to do in the past. How long ago had we made our last pinky promise? It’s been years.

He stares down at my small finger as if he doesn’t know what I’m trying to do. I jab him with it and smile when those dark eyes find mine through his enviously long lashes.

“Deal?” I repeat, wiggling my pinky. “Come on. You aren’t really going to leave me hanging, are you?”

His Adam’s apple bobs. “Bells…” He inhales slowly before internally deciding something, blowing out the same breath and hooking his much larger pinky with mine. “Deal.”

He doesn’t sound as convincing as I’d like.

“So…” I pop my lips. “Are we good?”

He nods.

“No more buying me baked treats?”

His cheek twitches before he nods again.

He knows that a pinky promise is basically like ink on a contract. They’re important. Cemented. “Okay then.”

Jesse looks up at me and studies my face. It’s probably red and dotted with sweat. Definitely not my most attractive look.

I jab my thumb behind me. “I’m going to shower. I heard there’s a new documentary on the Titanic. We could watch that when you’re done if you aren’t too tired.”

I know he’s got to get up early tomorrow, but I figure it’s as much of a peace offering as a pinky promise. We haven’t spent time together lately, so this is me trying. Effort shows him I’ve truly forgiven him.

The next exhale he releases sounds lighter. “I would like that.”

I smile.

He smiles back.

Dobby strolls in and meows loudly, rubbing his body against my leg. I kneel and pick him up, instantly earning motor-like purrs that go straight to my heart. “Come on, buddy. Let’s let daddy work out on his own.”

The words are out before I can stop them, and I see Jesse freeze from the corner of my eye. Had I just referred to him as my cat’s dad? Yes. Yes, I had. I’d said it aloud.

Clearing my throat, I stroke Dobby’s back and give one last fleeting glance as Jesse before hightailing it out of there before I could accidentally say something else.

*