Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 91216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
I nod, feeling a pang of sympathy. The photo I saw earlier flashes in my mind. “Is that her in the picture on your bookshelf?”
Jack’s smile turns bittersweet. “Yeah, that’s her. She passed away when I was fifteen.”
“I’m so sorry,” I say softly.
“The village was the one thing of hers that I managed to keep hold of after I went into the foster system. So, I guess you could say it’s important to show it off and make the place festive.”
“I’m sure she’s happy you are.”
He shrugs, takes in the decorations and says, “I hope so.”
I instinctively reach out to touch his arm, moved by his moment of vulnerability. The moment my fingers make contact with his skin, I feel a jolt of electricity. Jack’s eyes meet mine, and for a moment, the world seems to stand still.
I wait. And wait. And like the times before . . . nothing.
Yeah, I think it’s fair to say that we crossed into friend zone. And maybe that isn’t a bad thing. He’s as vanilla as the flavor of creamer he put in my coffee, and after last night with WinterWatcher . . . I’m clearly as black as the coal that I deserve in my stocking.
“I, um, I should probably get going,” I stammer, setting down the coffee mug. “I don’t want to keep Sloane waiting for long. Thank you for the shirt and the coffee.”
Jack nods, his expression unreadable. “Of course. Any time.”
I make my way to the door, feeling Jack’s eyes on me as I go. Just as I reach for the handle, his voice stops me.
“Chloe, wait.”
I turn, my heart suddenly racing. Jack takes a step toward me, his expression intense.
Come on, buddy. Throw me against the wall. Take me by the hair and plunge your tongue into my mouth. Do it! Do it!
Nothing.
“About that date of ours. True Crime and Chinese food. I work for the next forty-eight hours, but maybe when I’m off shift?”
My heart sinks a little. Hearing him ask it like that is the same way Sloane would ask me to hang out.
Yup, friend zone.
“Oh,” I say, trying to mask my disappointment. “Um, text me and we’ll figure it out. But I really should be going.”
Jack nods, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “Sure, no problem. I’ll text you.”
I hurry out of Jack’s apartment, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. As I step into the elevator, I lean against the wall, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. The scent of Jack’s shirt lingers around me, a constant reminder of the confusing encounter I just had.
The elevator dings, and I step out onto the street, the chilly winter air shocking my system. I start walking briskly toward the office, trying to sort through my thoughts. On one hand, Jack was sweet and helpful, offering me his shirt and coffee when I was in a bind. But on the other hand, there was that moment—or rather, the lack of a moment—when we were so close, and nothing happened.
I can’t shake the feeling that something’s off. The dog explanation, the lack of chemistry . . . it all feels strange. I didn’t even know he lived in Manhattan. He was only housesitting there?
As I round the corner toward Moth to the Flame, ready to get my jewelry, head home, crawl in bed to erase this day completely, my phone buzzes in my pocket. It’s a notification from Dark Secrets. I turned them on last night just in case. Just in case—
“Last night was fun. Maybe we can do it again sometime?—WinterWatcher.”
Chapter Nineteen
Chloe
“How in the hell do you look so good, when I feel like death?” I ask as Sloane appears perfectly put together in her expensive designer suit, not a hair out of place. “We drank the same amount. It’s not fair.”
Sloane flashes me a brilliant smile, her teeth impossibly white. “Years of practice, my friend. And a little help from drug of choice.” She gestures to the steaming travel mug in her hand.
I groan and rub my temples. “I think I’ve had enough coffee for one day.” I look down at my borrowed shirt from Jack. “Coffee mishap this morning. Now I’m wearing Jack’s shirt.”
Sloane raises an eyebrow. “Jack’s shirt, huh? Booty call last night?”
I shake my head. “I ran into him this morning. Literally.”
Sloane chuckles, her perfectly manicured nails tapping against her coffee mug. “Sure . . .”
I roll my eyes, wincing as the movement sends a sharp pain through my skull. “Anyway,” I continue. “Show me the new necklaces you told me about so I can get home and crawl back into bed. I’m questioning this trip to the office now.”
Sloane’s eyes light up, her hangover seemingly nonexistent as she practically bounces on her heels. “Oh, you’re going to love them! Come on, they’re in my office.”