no clue either. All I knew was that he took his time there, totally still, facing me in his massive asshole glory, as I ignored him.
Two minutes later—minutes that I counted perfectly in my head as I randomly clicked around on the screen from time to time to make it seem like I really was working instead of trying to be cool—he exhaled deeply, stared some more, and before turning around, called out quietly, “I want to talk to you, Len. That’s what I want.” He paused, his gaze heavy. “I’m sorry.”
He left then.
Because that was what he did: leave.
Then and only then did I grab my stress ball from my drawer, wishing I had another for my free hand because only one wasn’t enough right then, and squeezed the fuck out of it, switching hands when the first one started to cramp. I was real grateful right then that I hadn’t set myself up to be disappointed with how easily he left.
But it was right after I traded hands that my cell rang with Grandpa Gus’s ringtone. I swore to God he was a witch. Only he could time this so perfectly.
We were going to need to talk. A lot sooner than I had hoped for.
I hit the answer button and didn’t bother trying to hide the tension in my voice. “Grandpa.”
“How’s my favorite demon?” he answered like he always did when he was in a really good mood, and like always, it made me smile even though I didn’t feel like it. I squeezed my eyes closed as I did it, feeling this knot swell up in my throat all of a sudden.
“Everybody is getting on my nerves today,” I told him honestly, struggling to even get those words out as a mental picture of Jonah’s face filled my head with those damn freckles and that grimace/frown/smile.
“Everybody is always getting on your nerves,” he replied. “Want to get out of there and get some lunch?”
We needed to talk. Now, apparently. Shit. I knew I should have done this months ago… even a year ago… but…
I hadn’t. I thought I’d have more time. My fault again.
“Are you in the mood for Pho Palace?” I asked. “I can meet you there in fifteen.”
“Meet you there in thirty,” he agreed a second before hanging up, not waiting for me to confirm thirty was good and not bothering to say bye. He never did. He said the b-word sounded too final.
That and I think he just liked hanging up on people.
Lowering my hand to the desk, I squeezed my eyes shut for another moment, shoved my chair back, and got to my feet. Fuck it. I had put myself in this mess, I was going to have to get myself out of it.
Chapter 4
“Jonah, it’s Lenny again. I’m worried about you. Where the hell are you hiding?”
My best friend hadn’t said anything in two whole minutes.
In the first sixty seconds, she had narrowed her eyes, looked up at the ceiling, made a thoughtful face, looked back at me, narrowed her eyes some more, and then pressed her lips together, squinting so much that she probably couldn’t see anything.
In that same amount of time, I had crossed my arms over my chest and waited for her to make a comment.
Over the course of the next minute, she had pulled her phone out of her purse, which had been sitting on top of my desk since she was in the chair across from me, and started pecking away at the screen. Luna didn’t let me down as she finally loosened her lips, sat back in the chair, and took a deep breath. Her eyes went wide a moment before those green eyes flicked back in my direction as we sat there in my office the following morning.
Her index finger came up a second before she held up her phone with her other hand and aimed the screen at me. “This is him?”
The image on the screen was of a deeply olive-skinned man with shorts halfway up his thighs, a green short-sleeved jersey stretched so tight across his chest it made you wonder how the hell he got it on and off, standing on a field with his arms loose at his sides. The man had biceps so big it looked like someone had shoved a ball under his skin, thighs wide and tight and lined with muscles that overlapped each other. The ultra-serious expression on his face, brows furrowed, mouth slightly parted, irritated the