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I’m aware I’m taking a risk. He could be out. But Ev did say he doesn’t go out much these days. Or nights. Whatever.
And if he isn’t in… Then I’ll call him. I’ve made up my mind not to wait any longer.
The doorbell rings, and a second later the door swings open, held by a wild-eyed Travis.
I take a step back, wondering what’s going on. “Hey, Travis.”
“Amber. Is Jesse with you?” He looks around me, as if Jesse might be hiding behind my back. What with Jesse being so tiny and all…
“Is he out?”
“Yes! I mean, he isn’t here. Where he should have been, because we were going to bake muffins together.”
I gape at him, wondering briefly if this is a hallucination. “You were going to bake muffins. With Jesse Lee.”
“Yes. He said you taught him how to make them. Breakfast muffins. And he’s been really down recently, and I thought…” He stops, frowns at me. “Because of you.”
Whoa. Just a sec. “He was down because of me?”
“Read my lips.” Travis points at his mouth, which bears a smear of red lipstick. Nice. “He’s been staring at the drawings he made of you. Baking your damn muffins. Frankly, it makes me scared for the human race.”
“You make me scared for the human race,” I mutter.
“Why don’t you come in? You could wait for him, if you like.” He opens the door wider, and I notice he’s only wearing low-slung denim shorts.
Trying not to stare at his well-defined abs and more traces of red lipstick on his pecs, I sidle into the apartment, slightly dazed.
“You said he was supposed to be home by now?”
“An hour ago. Normally I wouldn’t worry, but Jesse is like clockwork. When he says he’ll be there, he is. The man can’t lie and won’t break a promise. It’s not in his genes.”
He can’t lie. He won’t break a promise. Crap. The evidence is mounting. He’s been telling me the truth all along, and I…
Oh God. I didn’t believe him.
“Amber is here,” Travis announces as he guides me into the living room, and I’m in for another shock.
Jesse’s other two roommates are there, sitting and looking… somehow expectant. Anxious.
“You found J?” the tall, wide-shouldered one asks. Cage, or Gage, my memory informs me.
“Unless he’s become invisible or decided to wait outside his own home, I don’t think he has,” the other one says. Alexander something. He drags a hand through his chin-length, blondish hair. “I’m telling you, something happened to him.”
“And what are you, a fucking medium?”
“No, I just have a fucking brain, unlike you.”
Travis groans. “Shut up, dickheads.” He turns back to me. I realize I’ve been standing there, open-mouthed, listening to this conversation.
I close my mouth and clear my throat. Open my mouth again. “I never got the impression from Jesse that you were so concerned about him. I mean,” oh great, way to put your foot in your mouth, Amber, “that you were so close. Baking together and all.”
“Goddammit, it was just one time,” Gage barks and looks contrite when I flinch. “Nobody bakes here. Nobody cooks. Not even Jesse. But Travis thought it wouldn’t hurt to learn how to make those muffins. Jesse seems to like them.” He grunts. “He seems to like you even better, but you vanished from his life.”
I’m torn between laughing hysterically and crying. “Where is he? Have you tried his cell?”
“No answer. Why don’t you try it?”
“Me?” Laughter wins out. “I haven’t returned his calls or texted him back in weeks.”
