My boyfriend is sexy. Even though it had been a month since my trip to North Carolina, the term “boyfriend” still felt strange, like a word in a foreign language.
Jake had made one more weekend trip to Chicago, and we’d managed to escape my apartment long enough to watch Fourth of July fireworks. It had been three weeks since I’d seen him, and I missed the way his breath felt against the back of my neck when we fell asleep. I was beginning to feel listless, looking for ways to fill my time outside of work. I started volunteering, Felicia and I worked out with Wes once a week, which was fun, and I’d enrolled in one of his self-defense seminars, but it wasn’t enough to take my mind off missing Jake, worrying about my job, and avoiding contact with Davis, who I hadn’t run into again, but who was periodically texting.
“How was your day?” I asked.
“I may have to ask you to bail me out of jail,” he grumbled.
“Why are you flirting with the law?” I carried the laptop into my bedroom and settled on the bed.
“Gretchen won’t let up. I’m ready to just give in to whatever she wants, so she loses her excuse to call me.” He sighed and leaned back.
My jaw clenched at the mention of his ex. I wasn’t a jealous person, but I’d searched for Jake’s wife online in a moment of weakness and immediately regretted it. In addition to being the perfect physical specimen I’d encountered at the diner, Gretchen Vanderkin-Shaw was also, apparently, brilliant. A magna cum laude graduate, a law degree from an Ivy League school, and a partner in a law firm by thirty-five, she also had a philanthropy record that probably rivaled Jake’s. She’d been honored for her work to build pipelines for women of color practicing law, and in any other circumstance, I might have been excited to meet her. In this reality, she was basically the exact person I least wanted my boyfriend to be married to. Though, ideally, your boyfriend isn’t married at all.
“What happened?”
“She’s been going on and on about us being on the same page about our split.” He raised his fingers to make air quotes. His speech got faster as his frustration rose. “I don’t want to have dinner. I don’t want to talk to her.”
“That sucks,” I answered honestly, but something felt off. It took a lot to rile Jake.
He shook his head the way he did when he wanted to move on from a topic. He never wanted to talk about Gretchen. His expression flashed exasperation for a moment before resignation took over. “Is it weird to talk to you about this? I feel like this is dangerous territory.”
I adopted a soft tone, trying to infuse some humor. “If I end the call in a fit of rage, you’ll know for next time.”
His lips tipped up in a grin. “I bet you’re cute in a fit of rage. Do you stomp your feet and pound your fists?”
“No, since I’m not seven. I would eviscerate you with my razor-sharp tongue, though.”
“Sounds sexy.” He smiled boyishly.
“Well, tell me what’s going on,” I said. “Maybe you’ll get lucky.”
Jake groaned. The screen froze for a second, the image of him running his fingers through his hair still visible. “Meeting isn’t out of line. I’m probably being a jerk avoiding her calls. It’s just that she keeps pushing boundaries.”
My hackles went up. “What do you mean?”
“She’s always flirting with me, touching my arm, or referencing old inside jokes like we’re still together.”
I remembered her demeanor in the café and eavesdropping on them at the hotel, and a flash of possessiveness tore through me. I wondered if he ever missed her. I knew he’d never be unfaithful to me, but I couldn’t blame him for thinking of her. She probably never needed to google how to flirt. I nodded, unsure what words would come out if I spoke.
“She just keeps right on acting like we’ll be getting back together. Like this isn’t real.” His brows furrowed, and he was continually rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, she was the one who cheated on me. I’m trying not to be a dick, but c’mon.”
Would you still be happily married now if she hadn’t cheated? It was the question wedged in my mind.
“This is weird,” he added, probably taking some meaning from my silence. “I shouldn’t have said anything. We don’t need to talk about our exes.”
“It’s on your mind. We should talk about things on our minds.” I fought the grimace of my own hypocrisy, not mentioning or even hinting at my own past and Davis’s reappearance.