by C. J. Lake
“Who said my anger is slight?” she quipped, and he laughed at that.
“Well, you’re in luck,” he said, as they crossed the lobby and he went to his mailbox. “See, I have sisters. So female anger doesn’t scare me.”
Grinning, Sky tilted her head, watching him open his mailbox door and gracelessly grab his stack of mail. She wasn’t sure if she should continue their flippant conversation right now, which felt borderline flirtatious, or if she should remain more serious about this. Should she insist that they treat this parking spot situation as a formal arrangement, so nothing could get complicated?
Before she made up her mind, though, Jamie dropped his voice lower and said, “Listen, Sky, I know you’ve got leg issues or whatever. If it helps you out to take the spot, then…” Leg issues? Suddenly heat rose to her face. Had Elle told him something? Here she thought Jamie was being gentlemanly—maybe even that he was interested in her—not that he pitied her. “I heard it last night, when you were talking,” he volunteered quickly. He must have read her face despite her effort to conceal that she was upset.
She expelled a breath, relieved. Okay, so Elle hadn’t said anything. There was nothing Jamie knew that Sky hadn’t told that guy, Thomas, anyway. “So you could hear everything last night,” she murmured, recalling the up-close-and-personal bar seating at Grendel’s. “I wasn’t sure if you could.”
Defensively, Jamie put his hands up. “Hey, I tried not to listen. Although…now that we’re on the subject…”
Sky’s eyebrows lifted. “Yes?”
“Well, it might not be my place, but that guy seemed like a real douchebag,” Jamie stated. “I don’t know what your friend ‘Alison’ was thinking with that one.”
Sky’s mouth dropped open and a short, disbelieving laugh slipped out. “Might not be your place?” she said.
“Oh, sorry,” Jamie said, possibly about to backpedal. “Were you into him?”
“No, not really,” Sky admitted. Not at all, she thought, noting inwardly that she was 100% un-attracted to Thomas’s looks and personality. “Still, he wasn’t that bad,” Sky said. She wasn’t sure if she was trying to save face for herself or for Alison, but either way, she felt compelled to list Thomas’s good points. All she could think of was: “He’s…really successful.”
“Yeah,” Jamie agreed. “At being a douchebag.”
She didn’t want to laugh at that, but she couldn’t help it. “I’m pretty sure he meant well,” she threw in half-sarcastically and Jamie gave her a sideways look as he elbowed his mailbox door shut.
“Meant well? Damn, Sky, if I take a girl out and she’s telling people afterward that I meant well…”
“What?” she said with a giggle. “It’s a compliment.”
“Trust me, it’s a stab.”
Amused and a little flustered—because Jamie was just so direct, and he had this disarming quality—Sky struggled to regain her focus. “Okay, well, we seem to have gotten off the subject.”
“We have?”
“Yes! The whole reason I came up to you tonight was to thank you. I really appreciate you giving up the spot. Now if you won’t take money for it…” She let her voice trail off, giving him another chance to let her pay his parking expenses.
“I don’t want your money,” Jamie said, his tone final, then pressed the elevator button.
Haplessly, Sky looked around the lobby, trying to come up with a fair trade, but nothing came to mind. “Well, if there’s anything I can do to make it up to you, just let me know,” she told him.
She started to walk away when she heard him say: “Wait.” She paused at the stairwell, looked over at him. “If you really want to make it up to me,” Jamie began, “then come upstairs with me.”
“W-what?” Sky began, uncertain that she understood.
“To my apartment,” Jamie explained.
“I…” No, he couldn’t be serious.
“Yeah. Come to my place.” A slow fury began to simmer inside her. “C’mon, what’s the big deal?” he said casually. “You said you wanted to make it up to me.”
“Right, but…I mean…” Did he actually think she would have sex with him because he’d let her have a parking space? She hadn’t had sex with anyone since the Derek Webber debacle and she sure wasn’t going to be manipulated into doing it!
“What’s the big deal?” Jamie repeated. “It’ll only take five minutes.”
Sky let out a thoroughly humorless laugh. “Five minutes—really?” she said, as unimpressed as she was offended. “Is that supposed to get me up there?” What the hell? Were all men just sex-crazed pigs?
“All right,” Jamie said, backing off, “no big deal if you don’t have time. It’s just that I noticed all those plants in your apartment and I could really use your help, that’s all.” That caught her off-guard. “No worries. I’ll see you around—”
“Wait—what?” Sky said, carefully walking back toward him. “What are you talking about?”
“Plants. See, my sister forced her plant on me a few days ago and I think it’s dying now. She’s coming home in a couple days and she’s going to be really mad at me. I just wondered if you could take a look at it, help me out. When I stopped by your place this morning, I got the feeling you know about this stuff.”
“Ohh…” Sky murmured, a balloon of relief swelling in her chest as she grinned at him again.
“It’ll only take five minutes,” he promised her again.
“Sure,” she said with a smile. “I guess that’s okay.”
Chapter Nine
As Sky followed Jamie into his apartment, she felt a little strange at first, because she’d only seen it that one time from his doorway. You couldn’t tell that much about a person from such a limited vantage point, but now she’d see more about Jamie. What things he liked, what his style was, what knickknacks and pictures he had around. She’d see—
Wait, she thought, eying the surroundings as they crossed through the sparse living room to get to his kitchen. She wasn’t seeing much of anything. At least nothing that jumped out as a clear statement on Jamie’s personality, which seemed a lot more vibrant than this.
There was the weight bench of course, along with a few free weights and dumbbells on the floor beside it, so obviously he worked out. But of course, Sky already knew that. She knew what he looked like with his shirt off…
Forget that, she willed her mind, pushing the memory aside, because it was too distracting.
Besides the weights, Jamie’s living room consisted of a sofa and a bookcase and not much else. In the kitchen, the counter tops were empty—not even a toaster!—and the table, which was a light-colored wood and looked brand-new, was bare with no center piece (then again, he was a guy). Still. As far as studio apartments went, this one seemed neglectfully nondescript. And from the brief look Sky had stolen of the “bedroom”—a.k.a. the deep alcove in the far right corner—she’d seen an unmade bed and that was it.
“Sit down; make yourself comfortable,” Jamie offered as he tossed his takeout bag on the table and shrugged off his jacket. He threw it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs then said, “Can I take your coat?”
Since Sky had been running, she was wearing only a thin fleece hoodie, so she said, “No, I’m okay.” After all, she didn’t plan to stay long. It wasn’t a date or something; she was just going to look at his sister’s plant and see if the situation could be saved.
“Drink?” Jamie said, crossing to the fridge. Sky shook her head and remained standing, feeling a little unsure of herself.
Once he took a can of soda for himself, Jamie sat down at the table and overturned his takeout bag. Out fell several metal tins, definitely more food than Sky would eat in an entire day, much less one meal. Honestly, the aroma in Jamie’s kitchen was beyond enticing; it reminded Sky instantly that she hadn’t had dinner yet, that there was a salad waiting for her in the fridge, and making her hope that Elle had left her some pasta instead.
“Do you wa
nt some?” Jamie offered then, reaching for the plastic utensils that had fallen out of the bag. “I have chicken tenders and steak fries, bowtie pasta, a cup of soup and a couple of sliders here,” he said, sorting haphazardly through the marked tins. “Uh, apple pie. And a brownie.”
“Wow,” Sky blurted.
Grinning, Jamie said, “You’re welcome to anything here.”
For some reason, the distracting image of Jamie shirtless popped into her mind again. What’s wrong with me? There was something about his smile…that must be it… “Sky?”
“So…where’s the patient?” she said, looking around. Her self-consciousness didn’t make sense, considering that Jamie was being relaxed and low-key. “Oh—this must be it,” she said suddenly when she spotted a wilting plant in his window sill. Actually “wilting” was putting a positive spin on things. His sister’s plant looked seriously droopy. As she crossed to the window sill, she noticed a thin yellow cord tied around the stem; the cord stretched from the plant’s stem to the base of the pot. “What’s this?” she asked, glancing back at Jamie.
“Oh, it was leaning over, so I tied that around it to keep it from falling,” he replied.
“Hmm,” Sky murmured, biting her lower lip with concern. “Is this neoprene?” she asked.
“I don’t know. It was the only rope-like thing I had. Why, is that bad?”
“Well, I’m not sure, but it might be toxic to the plant. Here, let’s take it off in case,” she suggested, hastily untying and removing the cord altogether. “That happened to me once with a lucky bamboo,” she explained.
“Damn, were you able to save it?” Jamie asked, his forehead creasing with concern. “My sister will not be happy if I kill this thing.”
“Don’t worry, I’m sure there’s something we can do,” Sky said. “But I should tell you that all the plants you saw in our apartment…they’re Elle’s. So, if it’s okay with you, I’d like to bring this one down and see what she has to say.”
“Duh, that’s right,” Jamie said. “The herbs and leaves girl, right?”
With a laugh, Sky nodded. “Right. You remembered.”
“Of course.”
“Elle knows way more about this stuff than I do.”
“So you want to outsource this favor,” Jamie remarked glibly. “That’s basically what you’re saying.”
“Basically.”
His grin widened. “Okay, cool. Anything you can do to help, so my sister doesn’t have an epic meltdown, well, I’d really appreciate it. Listen, Sky…are you sure you don’t want to sit down? Have you eaten yet?”
“I’m not hungry,” she fibbed, but took a seat across from him anyway.
“So how long have you lived here?” Jamie asked conversationally before he picked up a slider.
“Only since November. But Elle and I lived together all through college. She’s my best friend. Actually…you know that date you witnessed last night?”
“Yeah,” Jamie said and shuddered. “Painful.” Sky gave him a tart look, making him laugh. “Sorry—please go on.”
“That date was a set-up by Elle’s sister,” she said and then told him about Alison’s matchmaking service. “I have a feeling that there are going to be a bunch more set-ups for me in the next couple months.”
“Why months?” Jamie asked as he ate. “How do you know Alison won’t find you the perfect guy by Week Two?”
Abruptly, Sky scoffed. “Please,” she said with a cynical roll of her eyes.
“Hmm, is there a deep-seated reason for your pessimism about guys?”
“No comment.”
“Ah, so there is a reason,” Jamie said.
“It’s a long story,” Sky said with finality, effectively shutting down the topic.
“I see,” Jamie commented, nodding.
“You couldn’t possibly,” she challenged.
“Okay, I don’t see everything,” he admitted casually, “but I get the general picture. You’re the girl your friends are always trying to set up—but you hate every guy, right?”
“No, not at all,” Sky insisted. How did he know? “Though my friends do claim that I find fault with every guy and that I’m too picky. But really, I’m not!”
“Ah, so you’re one of those too-picky girls.”
“I’m not!” she yelped, a grin fighting to break through.
“Uh-huh,” Jamie said doubtfully. So he was teasing her now.
Tilting her chin up, Sky told him: “The thing is, I know what I want and I don’t want to settle.”
“So, what do you want then?” he asked her pointedly.
For some reason, she wasn’t expecting that question, though she should have been. Jamie had stopped eating and was looking at her, waiting on her answer.
“I’d just like someone normal and appealing and fun,” Sky said. “But, you know, smart and interesting and actually honest,” she added, a trace of bitterness coming through. “It would be nice if he weren’t a complete scumbag,” she threw in dryly. (Okay, now it was more than a trace…) “He has to be tall, of course,” Sky added, mostly by rote. “And employed,” she continued, thinking about it, “preferably not a felon.”
“How tall?” Jamie interrupted. That caught her off-guard. For a moment, she paused, unsure, since she’d never given the height part much thought. “I ask because you’re a little thing,” he clarified. “I could lift you over my head right now and not even feel it.”
“I’m five-four,” Sky said for some reason.
“Exactly,” Jamie agreed. “A little thing.” If someone else had called her a “little thing,” it would have sounded condescending, but Jamie made the words sound complimentary and kind of sweet. Then, humbly, he held up his hands. “I’m not saying I could bench press you yet—because, you know, honesty is important, like you said.”
“Right, honesty…” Sky murmured, bemused by him and trying to remember what they’d even been talking about. She’d never met anyone quite like Jamie before. His personality was a mix of laid-back confidence and quirky charm. He was sarcastic, but there was a kindness to him. At least from what she could see. And he said things that she definitely didn’t expect.
“So is that it?” he said now, as he chomped on a steak fry. “Is that the whole list? Or is there more?”
“What…oh…yes, I’m sure there’s more.”
“Of course there is!”
Giggling, she said, “Hey, I like to be thorough. Did I mention employed?”
“Yes.”
“Intelligent?”
“Yes, you said that one, too.”
“Oh! I know. Insightful. Considerate. Funny without being a clown, and ambitious without being a showoff.” Jamie nodded along. “I’d also like him not to be a total horndog,” she said.
At that, Jamie froze. “Excuse me?”
Sky’s gaze roamed around Jamie’s kitchen in a way that was deliberately casual, as she explained, “I just don’t want someone who is totally obsessed with sex, that’s all.”
He set down his steak fry, assessing her. “Just to clarify here…you are looking for a guy, right?”
“Yes. Why?”
He shrugged. “Just checking. Wasn’t sure there for a second.”
“See, but that’s the whole problem,” Sky blurted, thinking about Derek Webber—even though she really, truly, deeply did not want to, “guys can fool you.”
“How?” Jamie asked curiously.
“They…they can have a dark side,” was all she said. “Of course they don’t show it until it’s too late. You know, sometimes I just don’t feel like putting in the effort to meet a new guy, because how do I know he’s not really a total A-hole?”
“You can’t,” Jamie admitted. “At first. But I could help you with that.”
Sky’s brows pinched as she studied him. “Help me how?”
“All right, Sky,” Jamie said, sounding confident, and pushed aside his plate. “I’m going to do you a personal favor. You can thank me later. Or now�
�your call.”
Squinting at him, Sky said, “What are you talking about?”
“I’ll help you filter out the losers right away.”
“How?”
“Simple. I’m a guy myself. I know what other guys are about. Just the way you girls all understand each other—but guys don’t understand girls very well at all. Am I right?”
“Yes,” she agreed. “But…how would this work?”
“How about this? If I run into you while you’re out on one of your blind dates, I’ll let you know my read on the guy. Right then and there. We’ll need some sort of signal, of course.”
“Hmm…I’m tempted to go along with this,” Sky said thoughtfully. “But I’m skeptical.”
“Of course you are,” Jamie said, nonplussed. “You’re a cynic. Let me help you.”
She gave a laugh and rolled her eyes. “Fine, so is this a pass/fail type of thing?”
“Pass/fail, yes, that’s a good idea,” Jamie agreed.
“And what kind of signal should we use? It would have to be really subtle, of course.”
“Let’s keep it simple,” Jamie suggested. “Thumbs down means dump him. Thumbs up means hump him.”
“That’s disgusting.”
Jamie laughed out loud. “I’m kidding.”
Shaking her head, Sky laughed, too. Then said: “Why would you even want to help me with my dating life anyway?”
“Why not?” Jamie replied. “You’re helping me, right?” he said, motioning to the plant on the windowsill. “We’ll call it even.”
Chapter Ten
About a week later, Jamie, Pellican, and Matt were hanging out at Tragan’s apartment, watching basketball. Just as the second period ended, Andy emerged from the bedroom, carrying a small basket of laundry.
“Babe!” Tragan called to her playfully. “Want to know the score?”
“Is the game over?”
“Halftime.”
Giving him a saccharine smile, she said, “Keep me in suspense then.”
As she disappeared through the kitchen, Matt said, “Yeah, Emma doesn’t care for basketball, either. Must run in their family.”
“I have to respectfully disagree with that, bro,” Jamie said, leaning back in his chair. “Finding a girl who likes to watch basketball is the Holy Grail, I’ve decided. But, you know, on a secular level,” he clarified.