Page 43 of Don't Remind Me
“Who’s this?” I asked, kneeling to extend my hand. A large, fluffy cat with storm-gray fur rounded the corner of the island, rubbing against the wooden leg before stretching its nose to sniff my fingers.
“That’d be Baxter,” Jase said, leaning across the counter to glimpse at us as he filled the electric kettle. “He’s a shameless flirt, so if you have a problem with cats, let me know, and I’ll shut him in the bedroom.”
Baxter brushed his head against my hand, then slid his soft body down my arm and between my legs before going back the other way, a purr rumbling through his chest.
I smiled. “No, I love cats. I’ve wanted one for a while, but I’ve moved so frequently over the years that it never seemed like a good idea.”
“The same was true for me before this year. When my ex and I split, I thought of getting a dog, but it would have been a nightmare with my hours. Then I saw this guy at the shelter, and that was it.”
My curiosity piqued at the mention of his ex. He hadn’t talked much about his past relationships before.
Not that he had reason to. Just like I had no reason for asking.
It didn’t stop me from wanting to know.
Baxter followed me to the couch, which was easily twice as large as mine, and quickly curled against my side as I settled onto the cushions. A minute later, Jase approached with two mugs, handing me one and setting the other on the coffee table before disappearing down the short hallway. He reemerged wearing a black T-shirt and gray drawstring pants, a soft-looking navy blanket bundled in his arms.
“Here.” He set the blanket on the couch beside me. “So you can get cozy.”
Emotion tightened my throat. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this cared for by another person. Or even the last time I’d put myself in a situation to allow it.
I tucked the silky fleece around my shoulders, carefully maneuvering it over Baxter, who eyed me as if to warn me I wasn’t allowed to move from my spot. It gave me the time I needed to compose myself enough to speak.
“Thank you,” I said as Jase lowered onto the opposite side of the couch.
He did a quick scan of my bundled-up form before meeting my gaze. “You feeling better?”
I nodded. An electric charge still coursed through my body, keeping my nerves on edge, but it was easing with each moment that passed in his presence. Baxter’s weight and continued purrs helped too.
“So…” His brows rose. “Tequila shots?”
A laugh burst from my chest, shaking loose more of my body’s tension, and I lowered my eyes to the warm mug in my hands. “Karaoke night,” I explained. “I may have gotten a little carried away.”
He shot me a grin. “Been there. Just be glad you don’t have to be on your feet all day tomorrow picking and chiffonading twelve quarts of cilantro with an asshole of a boss screaming in your face every ten minutes.”
I laughed. “That a regular experience of yours?”
“It used to be. More than I care to admit.”
“I wouldn’t have guessed that. It seems like you hardly ever drink.” I’d only seen it twice—the afternoon after theCitizen Dailyinterview and the night the staff had drinks. Both times, he’d stopped after one beer.
He took a sip of his tea. “I don’t much anymore. Not since last year. I wasn’t really in the healthiest place.”
“How so?” I asked before taking a sip of my own tea. Chamomile with honey and lemon. It soothed its way down my throat.
He hesitated, scratching the back of his neck.
“Sorry, you don’t have to?—”
“No, it’s fine,” he said, shaking his head. “It was just a lonely time. Which isn’t how you expect to feel when you’re living with your girlfriend of two years.” He traced his thumb along the rim of his mug. “You know that shift drink we had after close the other week?”
I nodded.
“It’s a regular thing in the industry. Staff going out and having a few drinks after shift, maybe more. I did it all the time when I was a line cook, but when I was at my last restaurant, I started going hard. Didn’t really think anything of it. I was just having fun, you know? I thought I was happy. It’s not like I had any reason not to be. Good job, beautiful girlfriend, all the boxes checked off like they were supposed to be. But then every night, I would go out and drink until I couldn’t see straight ’causethat’sa happy thing to do.”
He tried to say it lightly, but there was a strain to his voice.
“One night, I had borrowed my ex’s car to get to work, and I tried to drive home drunk. Aubrey was the one to take the keys from my hand. She dragged my sorry ass to her place so I could crash on her couch.”
