“I guess.” I chuckle. A housewarming party. Who is this girl?
“How many people?” She tugs her bottom lip into her mouth. I take a breath and focus on her eyes.
“I don’t know. Do you want there to be a limit?”
“I don’t want the place getting trashed or a fire to start and Lauren to sue us,” she says. “When would this party take place?”
“Tonight?”
“I work tonight.” She bites her lip. “But I’m totally okay with you having a party without me.”
“It’s our housewarming,” I say, trying to fight a laugh. She looks at me, looks away, looks at me again. The fact that she’s nervous definitely shouldn’t be making me hard, right? Fuck I should have not kicked Jessa out last night. She didn’t want to leave even after the interruption.
“Maybe next week?” she asks.
“Next week works. Friday?”
“Maybe?” She starts walking away, but idles by the threshold of the kitchen.
“Let’s just play it by ear,” I suggest. That seems to be the best solution for this right now.
“Perfect.” That earns me a smile from her before she disappears down the hall.
I try my absolute hardest to not picture her naked the entire time the water is running in the shower, but I can’t seem to stop the visual of walking into her room last night and her sitting there in nothing but her underwear. Fuck. How many times have I jerked off to her face and the idea of her body on mine? How many women have I fucked with the same visual? Too many. I take a deep breath and remind myself I can never go down that road again.
Chapter Nine
Jo
“How’s that car treating you?” Donovan asks when I walk into the kitchen.
“It’s so crazy.” I walk over and stand across the counter he’s currently working on, plating a meal. “It drove me all the way here.”
“All the way here, you say?” He raises an eyebrow. “Who knew a car that doesn’t cost six figures could do that.”
“Funny, Donovan.” I walk away as the rest of the kitchen staff laughs at his joke, and set my purse down in the break room, grabbing the black waist apron my uncle set in the cubby assigned to me and tying it around myself.
I wait until I walk out of the kitchen before picking up my hair into a high ponytail. I haven’t straightened it in weeks, so the curls are bouncier and tighter than usual, but I do my best to smooth the top and bottom as I secure it. I take a breath before pushing the door that leads to the bar and smile when I see Marissa already there serving drinks. Marissa is a few years older than me but she’s been working here since she was in high school, which feels like an eternity to me. I heard she tried to quit once and Uncle Adrian gave her a raise and offered to pay for her school. Obviously, she couldn’t refuse that offer.
“Hey.” She tucks her dark, straight hair behind her ears and glances over at me with a smile. “I was so happy to hear that you were joining us. Not happy about the reason, of course, but happy you’re here.”
“Thanks.” I return her smile. “I think you’re the first person to offer a bit of sympathy for what happened.”
“I mean . . . ” She tops off the beer she’s pouring and turns to me. “I don’t feel bad for you for working here, but it’s gotta suck to crash that car.”
“You have no idea.” I sigh, then smile. “But I am glad to be here. It’s long overdue.”
“We’ll split the first fifteen tables,” she says, glancing up. I follow her gaze. “Patrick is handling the rest.”
“Sounds good to me.” I pick up the pad and pen in front of me and walk around the bar, heading to table one.
I’m wiping down table five when I see him walk in. My heart plummets. I gather the cloth and spray and bolt to the back of the bar.
“What’s wrong?”
“My ex is here and I just can’t.” I must be showing my emotions in my expression, because Marissa shoots me a sympathetic look and looks toward the dining area.
“Tall, blond, Ken look-alike?”
“Yes.” I shut my eyes, heart still hammering. If he’s here with Crystal I will lose my shit. I just know it. And I can’t afford to lose my shit.
“I’ll take care of it,” Marissa says. My eyes pop open. “I’ll make sure Patrick serves him. It’ll be fine.”
“Thank you so much,” I breathe. “I just can’t do this right now.”
“Hey, I get it.” She looks toward the restaurant again. “We have new people at table five. You take care of those and Patrick will worry about your ex’s table.”
I take a second to compose myself, taking a deep breath and keeping my head high as I walk toward table five. Knowing Lawrence is here will not trip me up right now. He doesn’t deserve to have that kind of power over me. I’m so focused on getting to table five that I don’t actually see who’s sitting there until I’m already in front of Jagger and his friend. That’s when my heart starts working overtime. As I meet his eyes, it’s impossible not to replay what I saw last night. Impossible to unsee his perfect abs or the veins in his arm as he flexed to grab the woman on top of him. That’s the thought that puts a sour taste in my mouth and reminds me who I’m dealing with. Jagger Cruz. Womanizer. Player. Heartbreaker. My new roommate. The person I absolutely cannot see in that light. We were friends once, before we went and messed that up by hooking up. Maybe we can get back there. Maybe, but doubtful, because for some inexplicable reason, I feel things I shouldn’t when I’m around him. Instead of looking at him, I focus on his friend, who’s incredibly handsome, with silky, dark skin and long dreads that normally don’t do it for me, but on this guy, they work.