I wait for the sound of her door closing before hefting the box and cautiously carrying it through the kitchen and out the side door. I set it on the ground while I unlock my car then place it in the back seat, using the seat belt to strap it in. God forbid I have to hit the brakes on my ride to Roman’s place and the damn thing breaks all over again.
Can you even imagine?
That would be my luck.
The house is quiet when I arrive, pulling into the short driveway and parking my car in front of the detached garage. Jack’s truck is gone and my ex-roommate doesn’t have a car of her own, so I’m not sure if anyone will be home. I have no idea and no way of knowing if the Jeep parked on the curb belongs to Roman or one of the neighbors.
I retrieve the box baby from the back seat. Smooth back the hair escaping from my ponytail before knocking on the front door. Wait a few seconds before pressing the glowing button for the doorbell. No sound comes from inside the house, and there don’t appear to be any lights on, at least not on the first floor.
Just as I give up and turn to go back to my car, the front door is pulled open.
It’s Roman.
And he looks as if he’s about to go somewhere, denim jacket covering a collared shirt he has tucked into dark jeans. His unkempt hair has been combed into a tidy style, and I will admit he kind of looks…cute?
Or perhaps I’m just surprised.
When we met, he looked as if he’d just run ten laps around a race track: exhausted, tired, and messy.
“I’m sorry,” I hasten to apologize. “Are you about to go somewhere?”
It’s none of your business, Lilly!
His eyes flit back and forth between my face and the box I’m holding in my arms, cradling it like the precious cargo it is.
He stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Actually, yeah. I’m headed to my parents’ place for Sunday dinner.”
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” Technically I haven’t done anything wrong and therefore there’s no need to actually apologize—I just feel like an idiot for standing here holding a box in the middle of the afternoon, unannounced.
He looks as awkward about it as I feel. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Oh!” I remember the award in my hands, inside the box, inside the towel. “Yes! I’m done putting everything back together.” Then, because I feel a babble coming on… “It’s like Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall.”
Er.
Sort of.
But not really.
“All the king’s horses and all the king’s men…er…”
Stop talking, Lilly.
“Couldn’t put Humpty together again?”
“Yes. But as soon as I said it, I realized it doesn’t actually make sense.” I laugh nervously, holding up the box for him to take.
“I got what you meant.” He smiles warmly.
What a nice guy.
Stepping out of the doorway, he invites me in with a sweep of his hand. “Wanna come in?”
“You have to leave and I don’t want to keep you. Here.” I hold out the box so he can take it—and he does, but he still insists I come inside.
“There’s no rush. It’s just spaghetti, and it doesn’t take me long to get there.”
The box is in his arms now instead of mine, and I brush past him, stepping hesitantly up into the foyer.
It feels strange being here without Eliza—as if I’m invading her space or something, crashing the house to see her roommate and not her, though my intentions are pure.
Obviously.
Still, the house is almost eerily quiet, not a single peep. “Is everyone gone?”
Roman nods, closing the door behind me and locking it. I imagine when he leaves he’ll go out the side door next to the garage. “Jack took Eliza to see some stand-up comedian who’s doing a show downtown. They’ll probably be home late. Maybe ten?”
“Oh, he took her to a show?” I sigh wistfully. “I love that for her.”
He has nothing to say to that, nothing to say about my tone as a teeny-tiny pang of jealousy shoots through my stomach. Eliza has what I want: a boyfriend who dotes on her and treats her to nights out. I bet she got all dolled up, probably wore a dress and heels.
Er.
Or maybe not, as this is Eliza we’re talking about. She’s much more comfortable in jeans and a cute shirt or hoodie.
All I’m saying is, my last few boyfriends never did squat for me. I can’t even recall going to dinner with Kyle—the nicest thing we did for a date night was the movies and the burger place next to campus, and that place is a bar.
Well. He’s in the past, and I’m moving forward.
I’m going to find me a guy like Jack…
Honest and fun and considerate. At least, I’m assuming Jack is all those things, which I’m judging solely by the way he looks at Eliza and speaks to her. I’ve gleaned a lot about him in the short time I’ve seen them together as a couple. Plus, Eliza is a young woman of conviction, and I know the reason she hasn’t dated anyone before Jack is because she would never put up with the same shit I’ve tolerated.