“After we spoke on Monday, I tossed my phone into my bag—well, it might’ve landed in the bucket next to the bag—and then later, Aria used the bucket to play in the water. I couldn’t find my phone after I got back, so I’m thinking she might’ve accidentally lost it at sea.”
Immense ease lightened his features until he lay completely relaxed across my bed.
“I sent you emails explaining what happened. Stevie helped me figure out the whole texting thing on the computer, but I haven’t memorized your number, so I couldn’t reach out that way, and when you never responded, I just assumed the cell service was bad everywhere.”
Irritation marred his brow, but I could tell it was directed at himself, not at me. “The email address you have is the one I use for family. I don’t have it set up for alerts, so I never got them. And I never thought to check it. My parents know to call if they need to get ahold of me and can’t wait until I go through my email.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t even consider how you might’ve reacted to my silence. Now I feel bad for making you leave work early. You didn’t get in trouble, did you?”
“Nah. I was just doing desk work—research and shit. Nothing exciting.”
“Do you have to go back?”
“I called my supervisor on my way out this morning, and he said just to keep him updated with what’s going on. But by the time I get back out there, I’ll just have to turn around and head home for the weekend. Kind of seems like a wasted trip to me. I’ll see what he says when I call him tomorrow.”
I glanced at the clock, watching the numbers creep toward five. “You mean today?”
Cash groaned and ran his hand down his face. Exhaustion plagued his eyes, but he didn’t appear to care. “So why haven’t you gotten a new phone yet?”
“I figured I don’t really need one, so there’s no point in rushing out and spending money I don’t have. Now that I’m driving more than I used to, I’m having to get gas more frequently, and even though Aria is basically potty trained, she’s still in pull-ups at night—and those aren’t cheap. I decided to wait until I can get a few paychecks deposited so I’m not feeling like I’m working for free while still draining the account.”
“You need a phone, Jade.” He narrowed his gaze on me. “What’s your plan if something happens and you have to call for help?”
I shrugged, not having given that any thought when debating the phone situation earlier in the week. “I guess run next door and ask them to call?”
“So if Aria starts choking…your plan is to go door to door until you find someone to call nine-one-one?” It meant a lot that he cared this deeply for the safety of my child, although I couldn’t help feeling like he somehow looked down on me or my parenting for not having thought about it. But he didn’t give me a chance to speak before squeezing my hand and softening his tone, adding, “We’ll go tomorrow to get you a new one.”
“There’s got to be another alternative, Cash. Your question was legitimate, but so is the fact I don’t always have a phone on me. I don’t handle fear well—as proven by my lack of fight or flight instincts when you came barging in here tonight. I freeze up. So it’s not very likely I’d even remember where my cell is in a situation like that.”
“We’ll figure something out.”
I had no idea what options I had, but this wasn’t the time to think about them—not at nearly five in the morning when I had Cash lying on my bed. I was ready to curl up and sleep, but I’d missed him and his company, and I wasn’t willing to give that up just yet.
“I’m sorry for worrying you,” I whispered.
He blinked at me for a moment, and then released my hand to prop himself up. His face was so close to mine, yet it didn’t feel close enough. With his free hand, he carefully ran his knuckles down my cheek, stilling at my chin where he held it between his thumb and forefinger. “I’m sorry for barging in here and scaring you.”
I tried to brush it off, but I couldn’t even manage enough strength to lift one shoulder. “It’s fine. I mean, that’s what roommates do, right? They don’t hear from the other in…” I paused to make the lamest attempt at mental calculation before adding, “Roughly thirty-six hours, and then race home in the middle of the night to check on them. At least, that’s how it should be.”
It was meant to be funny, but he didn’t laugh. He didn’t even show a glimmer of a smile. In fact, there was not a hint of humor to be found in his entire expression. His eyes remained on mine, holding the intense stare for longer than what was considered comfortable. It was obvious he had something to say—or he’d fallen asleep sitting up with his eyes open. That was a definite possibility. But then his gaze dropped to my mouth, and his breathing sped up.
“I have to tell you something, Jade.” His voice was heavy, full of grit, and it made my chest constrict painfully, feeling as though I was being crushed by a wrecking ball. “I broke a rule…one of yours.”
“Which one?” My fear increased with each second that ticked by.
His eyes never left my lips when he uttered, “I fell in love.”
The weight on my chest crushed my ribs, collapsed my lungs, and freed my heart. None of the common-sense questions mattered—his lack of sexual attraction toward me being on the top of that list. I’d heard the words I never thought would come out of his mouth, and nothing else existed. I wanted him to kiss me. He was right there, eyes on the prize, but he didn’t. And that was the one thing that halted my excitement.
He either regretted this, or he was just as scared.
My money was on fear. This had likely come as a surprise to him, and I wouldn’t doubt he was in the midst of trying to sort through the confusion. I didn’t care to make matters worse by moving too fast or pushing too hard. I’d be devastated if I awoke in the morning and learned he’d changed his mind—or worse, had confused his worry over my safety as something more.
So I decided to play it by ear, test him, have some fun to see if the moment passed. “Oh, yeah? Does this mean we’ll have another roommate? I won’t have to give up my bed, will I? Because as much as I love Aria’s room, I don’t think we’ll both fit on her mattress.”
Finally, his lips curled at the corners, and I rejoiced in the sight. “No, you won’t have to share a room with Aria.”
Still not satisfied—and also enjoying his smile, wanting it to last a little longer—I kept up the charade. “So I guess you’ll be moving her into your room, then? I mean, I’ll share my bed if I have to, just as long as she doesn’t hog the covers.”
Humor danced in his eyes. He was enjoying this as much as I was. “Where she sleeps is entirely up to her. I’d love to fall asleep next to her, but I plan to follow her lead.”
I soaked up his words, realizing he had turned this game into an easy, uncomplicated conversation full of answers without the insecurities brought on by making it personal. As long as we spoke about the woman he’d confessed to falling in love with as if she were someone else, we’d be able to better navigate this situation.