Jilted by Tess Thompson

Author:Tess Thompson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tess Thompson

11

Nico

* * *

Nico jerked awake. Disoriented, he struggled to sit upright as the events from the night before drizzled into his mind. Sophie in tears. Fire. Sophie in his bed. He groaned as he set his feet on the floor and rubbed his eyes. Every muscle in his body ached. What time was it? How long had he slept?

Bright sunlight peeked through the gaps in the drawn shades. He looked at his watch. Just before noon. Jen was no longer at his feet. She wasn’t in her doggy bed, either. He slowly rose to his feet and peeked through the open door of his bedroom. No Sophie. She must have taken Jen out and probably fed her. Where were they now? She couldn’t have gone far without a car. Without the two of them, the apartment seemed abandoned and lonely.

Even one night with her here made him wish for more.

He was in so much trouble.

Nico used the bathroom, then brushed his teeth. He showered, hoping it would clear the fuzziness from his brain. The hot water did its job. As he dried off and dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, he felt somewhat restored.

Mrs. Coventry was probably worried about him. He never slept late. Would she have heard about the fire? He hadn’t been up to make her breakfast. She might have forgotten to eat. Maybe Jen and Sophie had gone over for a visit? That would explain their absence. Jen often overstayed her welcome at the big house. Last week she’d decided it was a fine idea to take a swim in Mrs. Coventry’s pristine pool.

He crossed the driveway to the big house. Jen’s ball lay on the top step. Without knocking, he let himself inside, then paused in the foyer. The rich scent of coffee filled the space. Two soft, feminine voices were coming from the kitchen. The women were chatting away like old friends.

He walked down the hallway to the kitchen. Mrs. Coventry and Jen were seated side by side at the large kitchen island. Jen wore a red-and-white bandanna around her neck as if she were waiting for a steak dinner. Where had that come from?

Sophie was at the stove, stirring something that smelled of fresh tomatoes, basil, and garlic. She wore one of his sweatshirts and a pair of boxer shorts. He shuddered to think of her going through his drawers, then went hot remembering the large box of condoms he kept in the same drawer. Before he could look away, he noticed her nipples pressed against the fabric of the sweatshirt. Having Sophie around reminded him of being thirteen. An unwanted and spontaneous erection was a constant possibility.

He stopped in the doorway, surprised at the rapport between the two women. Mrs. Coventry kept most people at a distance. The woman who’d cleaned the house every other day for two decades was tolerated but kept at a distance. Mrs. Coventry was a slow burner. Apparently, twenty years wasn’t enough time in which to grow fond of a person.

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