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Seven fifteen. I wonder if the boys are up—and right on cue, I hear the murmur of voices and the sound of water running from the bathroom.
On my phone there’s also a message from Brylee. I tap a finger over the icon to open it and choke on my coffee.
It’s a pic of a dildo-shaped cake.
Or a penis-shaped cake? Hard to tell. It’s… pink and disturbingly life-like. Below she has written, “I’m baking this for the party.”
Oh no. Hell no.
“Bry, NO,” I text back. “Don’t you dare. Just bake cookies. Or whatever. Just not this.”
She doesn’t text back, and I huff, putting the phone down. Thank God she thought to tell me first. Can’t imagine her arriving with that cake. If Joel’s parents come…
Will they come?
I’m staring down at the blank screen of my phone when Jet stalks into the kitchen. He looks so cute with his dark hair sticking up in all directions, but his eyes are bloodshot and his mouth drawn down at the corners.
“Hey,” I whisper, already rising from my seat to give him a hug. “Are you okay? Is—?”
He lifts his hand, stopping me. “I’m heading out.”
His tone stings. “Where?” I demand.
I normally don’t pry, but hey. I’m his girlfriend. I care, okay?
“I’m gonna go running.”
That’s when I notice he’s dressed in his sports shoes, leggings and hoodie. “On your own? Without Joel?”
“Yeah, on my own. I can damn well do stuff on my own.”
My breath catches. “Then go.”
He doesn’t move. His back is stiff. “Sorry, Candy Pop.” His voice softens. “Didn’t mean to snap at you. I just need to clear my head.”
“Okay.” I give him a shaky smile when he comes behind me and leans over, giving me a quick hug. “If there’s anything you want to talk about—”
“I’ll come talk to you, then. I promise.” He drops a kiss on my hair and straightens. “See you later.”
Concerned, I watch as he leaves the kitchen. “Don’t shut me out, Jet,” I whisper. “Don’t backslide, not now.”
Not when we’re finally hitting our stride and finding out what real happiness feels like. I want to blame Joel for Jet’s moodiness, but I’m not even sure it’s his fault. Between Joel’s stress and the combo of my crazy mom and my insecurities, Jet’s nightmares and the stress and pain of the past months catching up with him, it’s no wonder he’s about to snap.
How can I fix this? What can I do?
We all need to sit down and talk. Talk with Joel, ask him… what? If he’s thinking of leaving? Seriously?
And speaking of whom…
A rumpled-looking Joel wanders into the kitchen, dressed only in l
ow-slung sweats, dark hair falling in his eyes, and a lopsided grin.
“Morning, sunshine.” He comes over to kiss me, and I fall into the kiss and the feel of his strong hands on my face.
How can I doubt this? Doubt him? He loves us. He’s stuck with us and he looks happy. Not at all like a man who will let anyone change his mind.
Right?
