Page 26 of From Air

“I know Gary.” She steps closer, plucks a sheet from the basket, and folds it.

“No. You’ve met Gary. You don’tknowhim.” I fold the pillowcases and set them on the dryer.

“Well, what better way to get to know him than at a party?”

“I’m not going.”

“Why don’t you take Mrs. Wilke?”

I don’t acknowledge her, but I know she’s grinning.

“Stop!” She takes the sheet from me. “Didn’t your mom teach you how to fold a fitted sheet?”

Her question knocks the wind out of me, but I disguise it with a shrug and a murmured “apparently not.” However, I do remember how easy my mom made it look, despite the fact that memories are not my friends.

Jamie makes it look easy too.

“Tuck the corners into each other. Then fold the flap like this.” She glances up at me with a quick grin. “Voilà. Now, it’s a rectangle; you can fold it like a flat sheet. How does a professional parachute packer not know this?” She hands me the folded sheet laced with a floral fabric softener. “Now, when is the party? Do you want me to drive so you can drink? Maren said it would also be my responsibility to keep you from impregnating anyone. Clearly, she doesn’t know about your scrapbook of carefully counted sperm.”

“Christ!” I drop the folded sheets into the laundry basket, then rake my fingers through my hair. “I’m not a child. I don’t need a chaperone.”

“Then why did you ask Maren to go to the party with you?” Jamie lifts onto her toes, invading my space to fix my hair. I’ve never felt this on edge. “Because she likes Gary’s parties,” I murmur, losing some of my fight because I’ve decided her hands in my hair and breasts pressed to my chest beat watching her bake, but just barely.

“Maybe I’ll like them too.” Her fingernails gently scrape my scalp, and I shudder, jumping back a few feet.

We have a brief stare-off while the washing machine gurgles. She blinks first. I’m not sure if that means she’s won or lost. But then she grins because she did that on purpose.

“You’re taking me to the party.” She flicks a resolute nod at me before spinning on her heels and strolling out of the laundry room.

“Why would I do that?” I follow her.

She glances over her shoulder and grins while curling her hair behind her ear. “Because I’m the bestyou’veever had, Fitz.”

“The best what?”

“You’ll see.”

The last time Gary hosted a party, a fire started in the kitchen. His wife called 911. Sixteen firefighters attended, and she called 911 for a small stove fire. I hope this party is less eventful, but I have an uneasy feeling about it because Jamie is anything but predictable. And she’s sure as fuck not punctual. We were supposed to leave a half hour ago.

I knock on her shed door.

“Come in.”

Jamie’s floral scent and a Taylor Swift song from her Alexa greet me.

She eyes my reflection in her mirror while applying lip gloss. “Are we fake dating or just best buds? How much alcohol are you allowed to have? And do I prevent you from having sex or just make sure you’re properly fitted with a condom?”

“You’re already proving to be an inferior plus-one.Notthe best I’ve ever had. I’ve never needed to tell Maren any of that information. She just gets me.”

“Oh, I get you, Fitz.” Jamie rubs her lips together and caps her lip gloss. “The alpha personality that allows you to jump out of planes and fight fires is struggling. Youneedit. And an idle winter feels like torture. I’ve rattled the structure on which you thrive—the new roommate shifting the dynamics around here.”

I scoff, surveying the tiny space. “Nice try.”

Jamie shoves her feet into chunky black boots that look too big for her body. She’s jaw dropping in black tights, a short denim skirt, a low-cut black top, and silver hoop earrings peeking out beneath her straight black hair. Her tan and freckles have faded a few shades lighter. She’s fucking gorgeous, but I’ll never say those words to anyone.

“How do I look?” She threads her arms through her puffy white jacket.

“Late.” I glance at my watch. “You look thirty minutes late.”

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