flooring and large crown molding on the ceiling. I run my hands up my arms as a sudden rush of cool air sweeps around me. “Why do you think this place is vacant?”
“The owner died three years ago. It’s been held up in an estate battle ever since.”
I blanch as I look at him. “You knew the house was empty.”
He nods. “Breaking and entering isn’t my thing. Chances of not getting caught are better if no one actually lives where you break in.”
I laugh at his nonchalant tone. This man has yet to cease to surprise me tonight. “I would ask how you, a bartender, know the map of Staten Island’s hidden crime tunnels by heart and how you brought us to this exact house”—I eye the bookcase where his gun is lying—“or how you got a gun and why there were candles and matches just waiting on the bookcase, but I’m almost afraid to ask.”
Jesse stands up and slides his hands in his pockets. “The gun was behind the bar. I grabbed it when I heard the gunfire. And the tunnels have always been a backup plan. Let’s just say, I had a feeling I’d need a way out. The candles have been here for months.”
“I have a plethora of questions I’m dying to ask, but I’m feeling pretty lucky for your preplanning and your honesty thus far, so I won’t push it.” My cheeks rise.
“I’m relieved you’re finding some humor in this.”
“This night has been surreal, to say the least. Tell me something boring. Like, super normal.”
He laughs at my request. “Define normal.”
“Stupid, mundane things you don’t put on a dating profile because it’s lame yet highly regular.”
“Okay. Well, I was voted Most Likely to Go to Jail in my high school yearbook. I have a dog named Harry, who lives with my parents. And I’m allergic to copper.”
“Oh my God, you make me those drinks every week! The copper mugs must irritate you.”
“Burns a little, and I make sure not to touch my eyes. It’s nothing.”
My hands fly out as I explain, “Burning your skin is a big deal.”
“Well, there’s this cute girl who enjoys them, so it’s worth it.”
A swarm of butterflies inhabit my belly, and I have to fight a blush. I cross my arms and shake my head at him. “Well, next time, I’ll get something else.”
“And I’ll ignore you.” He takes a few steps closer. “Your turn. What’s your normal?”
“You know my normal. And my abnormal.”
His eyes twinkle in the dark as his lip rises on the side, revealing a dimple. “True. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to know more.”
A warm sigh escapes my lips. “My normal? I work, spend time with my family, go for the occasional drink with my quasi-cousin. That’s it.”
“What do you do for you? I’ve watched you for a year, and you’re always so invested in everyone around you. There has to be something you do for you.”
I raise a shoulder. “I like art. Sometimes, I go to the museum by myself and take in the paintings. It’s relaxing. I’m not opposed to a bath with some music after a long day. And … well, this is kind of lame.”
“Tell me.” He lifts his chin in eagerness.
I roll my eyes. “I … collect matchbooks.”
“To light things with?”
“When I was younger, if something memorable happened or I enjoyed a good meal at a restaurant or the moment felt right, I’d take a matchbook and keep it as a souvenir. Now, I just grab one because they’re a rarity. A throwback to another time.”
“That’s not embarrassing. I’m impressed you can find one.”
“I think that’s why I’m still so enthralled by it. If I spot one, it’s like an omen that something big is about to happen. That’s weird, right?”
“Not at all. It’s exactly something I would expect from you.” He takes a step closer, and I look up into his handsome face. “You’re thoughtful.”
I bite my lip to hide my smile.
“And mesmerizing,” he adds, and all breath is lost from my chest. What started as a kind comment, has turned sultry. The air stills as an energy lights up the room. It makes my heart stop as I try to control my heaving chest from pushing against his. From touching him.
Slowly, he runs his fingers up my forearm leaving tingles in its wake. Our bodies touched when we were in the tunnels but this deliberate feel of his hand on my skin makes the hair on my neck