Page 10 of Pour Decisions
A little smile curves the sides of her mouth. “Says you, the guy who acts like getting physical therapy is a failure of some kind.”
“That’s different.” Sort of. But I don’t want to think about that too long.
“Is it, though?” She tilts her head to the side, and this time she scans my face instead. “I’m fine, JD. Really.”
“I know a place you can stay,” I say. “If you want to.”
And that place is my house, but I feel like she’d walk away if I said that right now.
What the fuck am I thinking? My house is a good size, but is it big enough for us to dance around each other?
I operate on careful logic and decision making, not instinct. But all that got thrown out the window the moment she seemed to be in trouble.
“I’ll consider it,” she says after a pause.
“My number’s the same if you need me,” I say, my voice low. “If you still have it.”
She swallows. “I still have it.”
“Good.” I finally open my car door.
“I’m really, really fine, though,” she says again as I get into my car.
I hope she is. Not that it’s my problem in the big scheme of things. Or at least it shouldn’t be. But to be honest, I’ll worry about Katrina for the rest of my damn life, whether she’s mine or not.
CHAPTER FOUR
KATRINA
Okay,I’m not at all fine.
I sigh and try to make myself small to fit in the weak, narrow spray of the gym’s shower after my morning workout. If I had the choice, I’d shower at home, especially since the rest of the gym is surprisingly nice. But finding another place to live has been a struggle this whole week. It’s even worse now that it’s the weekend.
I’ve spent every free moment looking at places, and usually, there’s one massive catch to them. I’m not even being that picky, but no, I’m not going to live with a creepy old dude whose cats have a loose definition of peeing in the litter box, or in a place that looks moments from collapse.
At one point in my life I would have put up with it, but after the stress of my divorce, I’m all about convenience.
I turn off the water and wrap myself in one of my fluffy towels, the only thing making this shower tolerable. Once I dress, I check my email and my spam filter to see if any of the places I applied to have gotten back to me. None have. Not even from the places that Mom sent.
I swallow. On the upside, I have the whole day to try to find a place today. If I can’t find a place, I can just stay in my car for a little longer.
Or I could just text JD and he’ll give me whatever hookup he has for a place.
I bite my lip and search for JD’s contact in my phone. I deleted our text messages after he dumped me, but I couldn’t bring myself to delete his number.
I get back into my car and turn it on, letting it warm up. It runs well enough even though it’s not in tip-top shape. My ex had wanted to buy me a new car, but deep in my gut I knew having my name on the title would be important one day.
I adjust the knobs for my AC. The August heat is killing me and my AC is struggling to keep up.
I dick around on my phone, halfheartedly looking at Craigslist. The longer I sit, the more sweat pools under my breasts and down my neck.
“What the fuck,“ I murmur, messing with the AC again. I put my hand in front of the vent. Nothing but warm air is coming out. “Come on. Please work.”
My AC doesn’t get the picture and keeps making my car hotter.
I let my head fall back against my headrest and laugh. Of course. Of course my AC chose this moment to shit itself.
The weather here can change on a dime, but I doubt it’ll magically become cool enough to tolerate staying here, even at night.
