Page 77 of Wild Ever After
DECLAN
I pace the living room,looking out the front window at the street as I call Jade. We’re supposed to be at an event in fifteen minutes. Another magazine thing at some museum. I didn’t get a lot of details, but I was promised food.
“Hey, where are you?” I ask when she answers.
“Still at the office. I’m going to have to meet you there.” In the background, I can hear people talking and things shuffling around like Jade is searching for something on her desk.
“I could pick you up on my way.”
“The event is closer to you than me.”
“Yeah. So?”
“That’s silly. It’s out of your way.”
I run a hand through my hair. Telling her I don’t mind going out of my way to pick her up won’t convince her, that much I know. Jade might very well be the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met. If I order takeout, she demands to pay me for half. Like I need twenty bucks. And after every event I attend with her, I wake up the next morning to breakfast or coffee made for me.
The day after I showed her the office space, she cleaned the kitchen, like super cleaned, even mopped the floor, and she made homemade blueberry muffins. I don’t even really like blueberries, but I ate every single one, afraid that if I didn’t, she’d do something else to repay the favor. God forbid, she bring home another piece of furniture that smells like a nineteen nineties pool hall.
I like doing things for her, and with her. I just like being around her. But man does she make it difficult to do nice things, knowing it’s going to make her feel like she needs to repay the favor. A part of me recognizes that her need for there to be an equal amount of give and take is a defense mechanism, but the other part of me, the more selfish and impatient part, knows what it really means is that she doesn’t fully trust me.
“Okay. I’ll meet you there,” I relent.
“Oh shoot. I need to change, and my dress is at the house. I’m leaving now. I’ll hurry.”
“Take your time.”
She ends the call before I can get the full sentence out. Twenty minutes later, Jade comes through the front door like a tornado. She tosses her bag on the floor and sprints up the stairs yelling, “Five minutes.”
I expect it to take much longer, but exactly five minutes later, she jogs back down, holding her shoes in one hand and lifting the hem of her red dress up with the other.
“Woah.” I’m frozen in place as she continues to rush around, getting her shoes on and shoving her phone and lipstick in a small black purse.
“Sorry, sorry.” When she finally looks up at me and finds me staring, slack-jawed, her expression morphs into something like confusion. “What?”
“You look…” I struggle to put together words. So fucking hot is what I’m thinking, but I temper my response. “Wow.”
A smile curves her painted red lips. “This old thing?”
“Price tag’s still on it.”
Gasping, she lifts both arms and swivels to find the nonexistent price tag.
“Kidding.” I step forward and offer her an arm. “Ready?”
She swats at my chest and then lets out a small laugh. “Yeah. I’m finally ready. Areyouready to go to this thing? I overheard some girls at work today saying it was a total snooze fest last year.”
“Yeah. I’m excited.”
She cuts me a glance that calls bullshit.
I lead her out to the car and open the passenger door. “I’m starving. Plus, I get to walk around with asuper-hotchick all night. I think I’ll live.”
She laughs again. I fucking love making her laugh.
An hour into the most boring event ever, I’m second-guessing my earlier statement. I have had to sit through some really stuffy, boring team events, but this one beats them all. We’re seated at a table with four older men, who haven’t stopped talking about politics since we sat down.
“This is awful,” she whispers, “and the food is terrible.”
