Chapter 4

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When I was twelve, I thought I knew how to handle Jesse, his torments, and bullying. When I was a teenager, I made sure I tried giving it back to him even though I could never get to his level of torment. As an adult, it was not easier to handle him when he was going out of character. Young Jesse was wild, reckless, and alive. Adult Jesse was all mask on, unless he wanted you to see it. Adult Jesse disarmed me. He was more chatty, yet not saying anything. He was more attentive. More flirty. He could probably charmed you into giving him your life. He certainly charmed me into staying in his house.

For a few hours. That was what I said. I was staying for a few hours. Have my breakfast and lunch, but dinner? Dinner would be in the comfort of my own kitchen.

Jesse was making breakfast. This was a sight I thought I would never see-me sitting on a barstool watching him cook breakfast for me. This felt so unreal to me I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn't hallucinating, but the funny thing was, I wouldn't have hallucinated this moment at all. I wouldn't have considered it on my mind because this was something out of character, for the both of us. It was like taking an engine of a car and trying to put it on a bicycle. It made no sense.

The morning sunshine burned my vision, which was like a slap to the face because nothing could get any brighter when it was the two of us alone. Jesse's kitchen was all stainless counters and concrete floors.

"I can feel your eyes on me. I swear if I was going to poison you, I'd make sure I do it where you can see it."

I took too long to respond, and he half turned, swinging his gaze over his shoulder as if to make sure I was still present.

"I'm only looking," I muttered. "Are you going to put restrictions on my eyes next?"

"I could practically hear all the scenarios in your head, Iris." He turned around and moved up to the counter, setting a cup in front of me. It was a freaking latte, not coffee. I wanted coffee.

"That would mean I was thinking about you and I wasn't," I retorted, as the toaster popped up.

Jesse shook his head with a low chuckle. "Thinking about your shop, then?" He cut me another glance when I remained quiet again. I averted my gaze, wrapping my fingers around the cup I picked up. "Are you embarrassed to talk about it?"

"I'm not embarrassed. Why would I be? There's nothing to be embarrassed about. Dreams get crushed."

"Okay." He laughed. "We can talk about the other embarrassing thing." He finished buttering up one of the pieces of toast and placed it in front of me, leaning over the counter to add, "How did you know where I lived? Stalker much?"

I almost choked. It amused him. He did that deliberately, didn't he?

"We run in the same circle, Jesse," I casually pointed out. "If I didn't know where you lived, it would have been weird. I didn't think you would have believed me if I told you I didn't know." Our circle was pretty small. It included us and my family.

Jesse leaned his back against the counter, thankfully wearing a shirt now, and sipped his own latte. "What's weird is giving my address to the Uber driver." He grinned smugly.

"Don't look so smug. You were the one who called me last night. You were my last conversation, so of course I'd think about you. Don't make it weirder than you taking care of me and me staying over."

He barked out a laugh, making his entire chest bulged up. His biceps flexed on purpose. I gritted my teeth and looked away. The image of him shirtless still haunted me. I didn't want more of him to distract me. A shudder passed through me at the memory.

"Something bothering you?" his voice caught through my thoughts.

"Uh...mum still hasn't called you?"

"You want me to call her?"

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