Page 26 of Ink Me Three Times
I run a hand through my hair and let out a breath.
What the hell was that?
He’s polite. Civil. Nothing technically wrong with how he acted. But it’s thenothingthat gets me. The way he talks to me like we’re acquaintances at best. Like that night didn’t happen. Like it didn’t meananything.
And maybe it didn’t. For him.
But my body remembers every detail. Every look. Every sound. The way he made me feel after the last few months of my life…
Now he won’t even meet my eye for more than a second.
I don’t know what I expected. A wink? A joke? Some kind of acknowledgment that we’ve been naked together?
Instead, I get… pleasant small talk and a swift exit.
I wrap my arms around Penny, who’s now snuggled against me, humming a made up theme song for her magic rock. She feels safe here, tucked in my lap like I’m solid. Like I make sense.
I envy her for that.
Because I don’t feel solid at all.
I close my eyes and rest my head back.
I’m just here to help. To keep my head down. To get through this.
Whatever this thing is with Mitchell?
I push it to the back of my mind.
At least, I try.
Later, at Jesse’s place, I’m curled up on his beat up old couch with Pickle snoring at my feet and a half eaten bowl of popcorn in my lap.
The sun’s starting to dip below the treeline outside the big front windows, and the house smells like woodsmoke and whatever candle Jesse’s been burning nonstop that smells vaguely like pine and whiskey.
He’s flipping through channels with a scowl like he’s personally offended by the entire concept of television.
"Did you know there are six different shows about competitive forging?" he mutters.
"No, but that feels like something you’d watch," I say, tossing a kernel at him.
He catches it midair, smug. "Because I’m a man of culture."
"Sure," I say dryly. "Nothing screams culture like swords and screaming."
We fall into silence for a beat, and I roll the popcorn bowl between my palms. My brain’s still tangled from earlier, from Mitchell’s flat expression and the way he just walked away like I wasn’t even worth a second glance.
I hesitate, then blurt it out before I can talk myself out of it.
"What’s the story with Freddie?"
Jesse glances over at me. "What do you mean?"
I shrug like it’s no big deal. "I mean… he’s a single dad, right? Penny’s mom… did they split up or…?"
Jesse’s face shifts, not exactly guarded, but something flickers there. He sets the remote down and leans back, folding his arms across his chest.
"She just… left," he says, voice even. "Didn’t want to be a mom. One day she was there, the next she wasn’t. Freddie woke up to a note and an empty dresser."
