The Happy Ever After Playlist - Abby Jimenez Page 0,10
me. I think they thought if they didn’t, I’d starve to death. Six months ago I’d put my foot down and only allowed dinner once a week now. They used to be here every day, but it had started to get ridiculous. They had a baby and their own lives, and I didn’t want to feel like their responsibility. Kristen would never say it, but I think it was a relief. Either because she thought I was getting better or because she was glad she didn’t have to schlep over here every day. I’d filled my freezer with Lean Cuisines and shocked them both when I didn’t die from malnourishment.
“See you later.” Josh gave me a hug, ruffled Tucker’s ears, flashed me a dimpled smile, and left.
The dog laid his head back on my lap, and I peered down at him. I took my cell phone and hit the camera icon and snapped a shot. “I bet Jason would like to see some of your vacation pictures,” I said, thumbing a text into the phone and shooting the photo off.
Sloan: All worn out after a six-mile hike!
I set my phone down and lolled my head back on the sofa. Then my cell pinged.
Jason: I bet he loved it.
Another ping.
Jason: No picture of you?
I rolled my eyes. Sexy or not, he was a stranger. I wasn’t going to send him pictures of me.
Sloan: Do you think how I look is going to have any bearing on my ability to watch your dog?
The three little dots started jumping, letting me know he was typing a response. I smiled. I’d kind of liked talking to him yesterday. I sat up and tucked my feet under me as I waited for the reply. “Your dad’s a flirt,” I said to Tucker. He looked up at me with those soft copper eyes and then put his chin back in my lap.
Jason: You’ve seen pictures of me. I don’t think it’s that weird to want to put a face to a name. You’re watching my favorite person in the world and I don’t even know you.
I twisted my lips. He had a bit of a point. But still.
Sloan: You’re a stranger. You could be a pirate.
The dots began jumping again.
Jason: Aye, that be true.
I laughed.
Jason: Do you like games?
Where was this going?
Sloan: It depends.
Jason: On?
Sloan: On whether someone ends up drunk or naked at the end of it. I don’t like those games. I always end up the sober one, driving all the drunk, naked people home.
Jason: Not that kind of game.
Sloan: I’m listening.
Jason: Every day I can ask you one question to get to know you better. And if you don’t want to answer it, you have to send me a picture.
I shook my head while I typed.
Sloan: What kind of questions are we talking about? The yes-or-no, check-a-box kind?
Jason: Lol! No, too elementary school. Real questions. I can ask anything I want, and you have to answer it truthfully.
Sloan: Do I get to ask you a question every day?
Jason: Of course.
Sloan: And if you don’t want to answer it?
Jason: I’ll answer it.
Sloan: How about if you don’t want to answer it, you have to let me keep Tucker an extra day.
There was a pause between texts. The ceiling fan made a steady clicking noise above me while I waited.
Jason: Deal.
Sloan: Deal.
His questions were going to be perverted. I was almost certain. He wanted a picture, so he’d probably ask me things he thought I’d never answer. But the game was too alluring. And I liked the idea of asking this good-looking mystery man about himself. It was kind of fun.
Jason: Ready for my first question?
Sloan: Ready.
Jason: Why don’t you paint what you want to paint?
I stared at the text. I hadn’t been expecting that.
Had he asked it to throw me off? Had my weirdness over my art shone through in our brief conversation yesterday? I let out a deep breath. Now I kind of wished there were just yes and no boxes to check.
I decided to deflect him.
Sloan: Really? This question? Seems like a waste. You get a do-over.
Jason: Don’t want a do-over.
And then,
Jason: Wouldn’t mind a picture though.
My lips pursed. “Fine,” I muttered to myself.
Sloan: I haven’t painted my own works since my fiancé died two years ago.
The dots started to jump. Then they stopped. Then they started again.
Jason: I’m sorry to hear that.
There was a pause between texts while he typed again.
Jason: Sometimes the hardest place to live is the one in-between.