Auguries of Summer

Chapter 1-2

I paid the delivery guy and shut the door with my hip. As I carried the two pizza boxes back to the kitchen, I saw Jack—shirtless and wearing only pajama bottoms—stepping out of the washroom. A cloud of steam followed him into the hallway. “The fan doesn’t work in there,” Jack said. “You’re gonna have to fix that.” He grabbed the boxes out of my hands and turned away for the kitchen. “Thanks for the pizza. How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing. It’s on me.” I stared at his perfect little ass moving under those loose-fitted cotton pajama pants. “And I’ll take a look at the fan later,” I called out to him. I poked my head in the bathroom door. It was a like a sauna in there. The walls and mirrors were covered with steam.

I joined Jack in the kitchen. “Do you even turn the cold water dial at all when you take a shower?”

Jack was fumbling through an open box labeled kitchen. “Hot water is good for my complexion. It clears my pores.” He pulled two plates out of the box. “I’ve trained myself to stand the heat.”

“I see.” I plucked two beers out of the case. “Want one?”

Jack was staring down at the pizzas with a dejected expression. “Where did you order these from?”

I twisted the cap off my beer and shrugged. I’d grabbed a take-out menu the previous tenants had left out in the living room and had dialed the first pizza place listed there. “What’s wrong with the pizza?”

“Well, for starters, it looks so bland and cheap. I know a few great specialty pizza places we could have called.” Jack picked up his beer and scoffed. “And Labatt Blue? Are you serious? This is probably what you and your friends drink watching hockey or something.”

I dragged a chair out and fell back into it. I was dead tired from the move. “Have some of your red wine then,” I said, serving myself a few slices of the thin cheese pizza. But Jack was right again; the pizza was like a piece of cardboard.

Jack pulled a chair out next to mine and sat. “No, no, it’s fine.” He smirked and lifted the bottle to his sexy lips. “I’ll join you in this manly moving day ritual.”

I tore a huge bite out of my pizza. “Cool,” I said with my mouth full. I was starving. I ate quickly and then gulped half of my beer down.

Meanwhile, Jack was picking at his fries. He had a serious expression on his face and was obviously lost in his thoughts. Maybe he was thinking of Craig? Of his break-up? I stared at him for a while, watching his downcast eyes. The kitchen ceiling light hung low over the table and played in Jack’s thick black hair, throwing shadows over his brow.

I swallowed another sip of beer, but my throat was a little tight.

I wanted to kiss him.

Wanted to put my hands on his slender thighs and slowly and deeply kiss him.

Jack must have felt my stare on him because he raised his eyes to meet mine. “What?” he asked in a gentle voice.

“Uh—nothing.” I leaned back in my chair, unsure of myself.

Last Saturday evening, after Jack and I had finished packing up the rest of my things at my apartment, we’d gone through two bottles of wine together, talking and listening to music. Later that night, Jack had been a little drunk and upset over his break-up and I’d ended up lying next to him in bed, whispering comforting words in his ear. One thing had led to another and I’d kissed him.

We’d had s*x. Gone all the way, too.

“Are you thinking about last week?” Jack asked in a quiet voice. “Is that what’s on your mind, Seb?”

“Do you think about it?” I couldn’t look at him and fiddled with the corner of the pizza box instead. I was sending Jack mixed signals again. It was wrong of me, but I couldn’t seem to restrain myself when we sat so close.

“Of course I think about it.” Jack leaned in and nudged my knee with his. “A lot.”

“But now we’re living together.” I chanced a look up at him, feeling more and more trapped. I didn’t want this to go any further. We were friends. The best of friends. I couldn’t risk losing that.

Or was it something else keeping me from taking our relationship to the next level? Sometimes I wondered if I was embarrassed by Jack.

Jack’s features tensed and he cracked a caustic smile. “Yes. Now we’re Bert and Ernie. Felix and Oscar.” He sipped his beer, his blue eyes catching fire. “Batman and Robin.”

“You were pretty upset last week and I was a little drunk.”

And now I was a jerk for saying that.

Jack squared his shoulders and set his bottle down on the table. “Ah, yes, of course. We must factor in the booze and Jack’s little meltdown into the equation.”

I knew Jack well enough to understand that beneath his sarcasm lay hurt feelings. “The thing is—the thing is, Jack, I get real turned on by you.” I let out a strong breath. “Look, I can’t pretend you don’t make me so hot I lose my head, but that being said—”

“That being said, we should resume our positions as friends and continue playing the game of Jack and Seb move in together.”

I could never win with him. He was too clever and quick-witted for me. “All right, yeah. Okay.” I gulped more beer, feeling insecure.

Last week hadn’t been the first time we’d slept together. Five years ago, on the first night we’d met, I’d gone home with Jack and spent a fantastic night with him. But back then, our s****l relationship had ended abruptly and we’d agreed to be friends instead.

Our amazing friendship was the best thing that had ever happened to me and I couldn’t imagine not having Jack in my life. But I didn’t believe in romance, that whole couple thing.

Jack knew this.

“Seb,” he said, his expression softening, “it’s all right. I don’t wanna have this conversation again.” He rose and gathered our plates, but he hadn’t even touched his food. “I think I’m just gonna have a glass of wine and try to organize my bedroom.” He gently pressed my shoulder and left. “Good night,” he added, leaving the kitchen.

Confused, I stared at my reflection in the dark kitchen window, hating myself for playing this game with my best friend.

Had I made a mistake asking Jack to move in with me?