Page 53 of Jesse's Girl

I smile to myself as I snip through another section and let it drop. “Is it weird being home?”

“Extremely.”

I narrow my eyes. “Yeah? Why?”

“Well, this girl I know keeps harassing me about my appearance, for one.”

I hum a soft laugh through my nose.

“And,” he continues, “I’ve just entrusted her with scissors.”

“She sounds sketchy. You sure that’s a good idea?” I bite the inside of my cheek.

“Yeah. She talks a big game, but it’s all an act.”

I arch a brow. “An act, huh?”

“Oh, yeah. Big-time. She likes to be all snarky and smart-assy, but she’s a total softie on the inside.”

“And how do you know that?”

“I just know.”

“What does that even mean?” I press, playfully tugging on a section of his hair. “Pretty vague.”

He huffs a laugh. “Wow, okay… Well,”—he tries again—“I’ve known her a long time. She’s fiercely loyal. Principled. Passionate.”

A slight flush rises in my cheeks at the idea of Jesse describing me as passionate. “Why does passionate feel like code for Italian?”

“She’s very Italian.” I can hear the smile in his voice.

I push him lightly on the side of his head and he throws me an amused glance over his shoulder.

I drag the hair back over his right ear, the shorter sections falling between the comb’s teeth. When he tilts his head to the side slightly, my gaze drops to his neck, and I imagine grazing my teeth over his skin there. I look away.

Stop it, Russo. Forbidden fruit.

“I dunno,” he muses. “She teaches art classes for at-risk youth. That’s softie territory, don’t you think?”

“If you think that makes you soft, you clearly haven’t spent enough time with the at-risk youth of Lennox Valley,” I shoot back.

He laughs. “Well, that may be true, but I still think I’m right.”

I shake my head as more long strands fall at my feet. Gently tousling the shorter hair on one side of his head, I move to his other side, picking up the comb again.

He shifts in the chair, sitting up straighter. “Speaking of your art, you ever gonna show me any of it, or what?”

“No!” I scoff. I’ve been keeping my bedroom door closed, effectively hiding my paintings since Jesse moved in.

“Why not?” He sounds offended. “What’s the big deal?”

“I dunno. It’s… It’s not for everyone.”

He lets out a soft grunt and pauses. “Alright, but I’m just gonna assume it’s nudes, then.”

“It’s not nudes! Oh my God!”

“More embarrassing than nudes?” He laughs. “You’re not drawing me, are you?”

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