Our laundry room was more like a hallway, a long, narrow room with multiple washers, dryers, racks, counters, and baskets. I headed for the closet right inside the door.
“Wow,” Jessa murmured. “I didn’t see this part on the tour.”
“Welcome to the laundry tunnel,” I cracked, rummaging through the boxes of crap I looked at maybe once a year.
“Do you still do your own laundry?” she asked.
“Sometimes.” I found the spray bottle I’d been hunting for. “When I’ve got my shit together enough to remember, that is. Which means it’s probably been…months.”
She cocked her head. “Those basic things just slip under all this stress, huh?”
My shoulders slumped. Here she went again, with the damn insight and tenderness. The way she looked at me told me shesawme. Like she was looking inside my body with an X-ray, reading all my innermost thoughts and worries.
“To say the least,” I replied, turning the bottle over in my hands. “Let’s get this on before the stain sets.”
She looked down at her chest, then back up at me. The splotch sat right between her breasts. “I should get it…right?”
My hand tightened around the bottle.Do not suggest she take the dress off. That is unnecessary. You just want to see her naked. Stop it, Damian.
“Um…” I fought for a moment to remember how to form words as I stared at her breasts. I hoped it looked as though I was formulating a plan of action. “We can do this together.”
“Don’t fall in,” she cracked.
Like that wasn’t precisely what I wanted to do. Not just into her cleavage, but into all of her. I wanted to dive so deeply into Jessa it scared the fuck out of me. I must have sent her a stern look because she bit her lip.
“Sorry, I know that’s too far into friend territory again.”
“Slide your hand underneath,” I instructed her. “Then I’ll spray it.”And then I’ll run far away from this situation.
She did as I said, and I doused the stain in the spray. She nibbled on her lip as she watched. “You don’t think it’ll discolor it, right?”
“It shouldn’t. I’ve used this on fancy shirts before and never had a problem. We’ll let it sit then we’ll wash it out.”
She nodded, pressing a hand to her forehead. “Sorry, again.”
I was still standing so close to her, far closer than needed. But hell if I could pull myself away. My gaze washed over her, taking in all the spectacular details. The flecks of blue in her eyes, the wispy hairs lining her face. The lightest smattering of freckles across her cheeks, like she’d tried—and failed—to cover them up with makeup.
“I should be apologizing.” I didn’t know if it was the proximity, or the stress, or what, but I needed to get these words off my chest. “I’m the one who ripped you from class. You wouldn’t have stained it if I hadn’t brought you here. Just another thing I need to make up for now.”
She blinked, pulling back slightly. “Oh? What else do you have to make up for?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Come on. Like you don’t have a running tally by now.”
“I don’t, Damian. I’d love to know what you think you have to make up for.”
I swallowed hard. I spent late nights cataloguing all the ways in which I didn’t stack up, the ways in which I’d failed. I had my running tally on Jessa’s behalf, as well as a longer one for my entire life. “I know how much of a dick I can be.”
“Ahh, so you do realize.” She tutted, her grin nearly ear-to-ear. She leaned in again, the coyness emanating from her so alluring that I nearly fell head-first into a kiss with her. “So what’s the plan for making it up to me? I’d love to know.”
“Do you have any suggestions?”
“Well I’m not looking for a chocolate gift basket here, Damian.”
I laughed. “So that rules out my first idea.”
“I don’t know, my ideas might not fall on the right side of the friend line,” she said with a wink. I knew this game a little too well. And there was no one I wanted to play it with more than Jessa.
“Who’s keeping watch on that line anyway?” I asked.