Standing underneath the deafening spray, I grabbed a bottle of body wash and squirted it into my hand. The scent of roses enveloped the shower stall. What an odd choice for a guy. In the caddy, there was also a fancy bottle of shampoo and a loofa. Matthew did mention this past year has been hard for Andrew. I was starting to decipher that as a relationship gone awry. There weren’t any other womanly touches throughout Andrew’s apartment. No throw blankets, candles, or cosmopolitan magazines. His home was the definition of masculinity except for this bathroom. Whenever an ex of mine and I broke up, everything and anything that reminded me of him got thrown away unless I still harbored feelings. While, I didn’t want to jump to conclusions, it seemed as if Andrew hadn’t gotten over his ex. The crumbling walls around my heart got resurrected. Turning off the rain shower, I toweled dried my hair and changed into my work clothes.
![Jagged Love _7.jpg](https://litlife.club/books/270570/read/images/_7.jpg)
Andrew stood in the kitchen, sipping a cup of coffee out of a Snoopy mug. “Hey.”
Flashes of him naked appeared before my eyes. I flushed and ducked my head. “Is there more?”
“Yeah, in the coffee pot.”
Shuffling over to the counter, my mind played the images of Andrew in his birthday suit like a 24/7 film reel. Talk about distracting. Finding a thermos, I poured the pitch-black brew inside and secured it with the cover. A cold walk was ahead of me.
“Sorry about yesterday,” Andrew said. “I got inspired and was in my art studio all night.”
Dishonesty didn’t bode well with me. Speaking from past experience if somebody lies and gets away with it, the lies don’t stop. They multiply.
“Is that right? It wasn’t because we almost kissed and you’re not quite over your ex yet so you ran?” I asked, point blank.
Tension rolled off Andrew in waves. Turning around, his hands clutched the mug so tight, I was afraid it would shatter.
“I didn’t run,” he bit out.
The fact Andrew didn’t deny the part about his ex didn’t go unnoticed. “Would sprint be better?”
“No.”
“Whatever. I have to get to work. I’ll see you later.”
He pushed his chair back and stood. “I’ll drive you.” Without waiting for an answer, he snatched his car keys off the hook.
An awkward car ride didn’t sound like the best way to start my day but I knew I’d be late if I walked. We entered the basement level garage filled with high-end cars. A souped up black BMW beeped as he clicked the car key.
Climbing into the buttery leather passenger seat, I snapped the seat belt across my torso. “Where’s the SUV?”
“That’s not mine. The driver and SUV are one of the perks that come with owning a loft in this building.”
The only perk that came with my apartment was a dishwasher. In my fourth floor walk up before, I had to wash my dishes by hand. Although most of the time, I got lazy and threw them away. Takeout containers became my best friend.
“What other perks do you get?” I wondered.
“A free gym, a movie theater, an indoor heated pool, and a helicopter pad.”
My ass launched out of the seat in excitement. “You have a pool?”
“That’s what impresses you? A pool?”
“Yeah, pools are awesome.”
A deep timber of a laugh rose out of him, warming my soul. Andrew pushed the ignition button and roared the engine.
“Hold on,” he instructed.
“For….” My words died as the car jerked forward. My body plastered to the bucket seat and I gripped the oh-shit handle for dear life.
Detroit showed few signs of life when we entered the city. It almost looked post apocalyptic with its crumbling buildings; litter-strewn streets and graffiti sprayed walls.
Andrew slid a glance my way. “Do you always work the six a.m. shift at The Roasted Bean?”
“Yeah, but only twenty hours a week. Rogue gets me the other twenty. Sometimes they overlap.”
“Those are long days.”
I shrugged. “Yeah but the money is good and after what happened with Sumiko, I need to rebuild that income fast.”
“Do you mind me asking what you were saving for?”
“I was saving to leave.”
“Leave where?”
“No idea.”
Andrew’s eyebrow lifted as if he didn’t believe my answer. “Come on. You have a dream to get out of a Detroit and you have no idea where? I’m guessing you have thought about this a lot. United States is a vast place. What were going to do just get into your car and drive?”
Irritation flittered down my spine at Andrew’s use of were, as in past tense. My dream was still very much alive. Sumiko may have had delayed it but nothing would stop me at this point. I would dip my toes in the sand on the west coast, eat fried chicken in the South, and witness a fiery sunset in New Mexico.
“I’m guessing you took vacations when you were a kid?”
Andrew nodded.
“My mom’s boyfriends ninety-nine percent of the time, while wealthy, hated kids. They would shower her with gifts, vacations and anything she wanted. Me? I got a stocked fridge and an empty house. My wanderlust has always been strong but when my mom returned, tanned, talking about the monkeys in Brazil or whatever, it got stronger. Right now, I’m starting small but eventually I want to travel the world and see the beauty myself.”
Andrew glanced over his shoulder and switched lanes. “If you travel through Italy, let me know and I’ll get you a table at my uncle’s restaurant.”
“Your uncle lives in Italy?”
“Yeah, my mom’s whole side does.” He switched back to our previous topic. “Do you have a timeline in mind for this adventure of yours?”
“My twenty-fourth birthday. Three months, five days and nine hours I’ll be on the road with the wind in my hair.”
An unexplainable emotion flickered across Andrew’s face that looked a lot like sadness, but I had to be mistaken. When I double-checked, it returned to one of contraction, nothing else. Odd.
Mallory poured a double shot of espresso and plated a chocolate chip cookie. Pushing the goodies across the bar, she motioned for me to sit. The hours between two until closing always left a dead spell in the coffee shop.
I hopped on the stool. “Thanks.”
“You seemed distracted this morning.”
Andrew’s elusive attitude had crawled underneath my skin. While I could care less about labels, I didn’t like having my head messed with.
Our almost kiss last night, and then his ex’s bath products in the shower spelled complications in big fat letters. I had no desire to complicate things further. Andrew had invited me to stay with him out of the goodness of his heart. Not to get into my pants, although, a palpable attraction resided between us. So then explain the sadness that had flickered across his face when I told him in three months Detroit would be a distant memory. I could be projecting. Andrew was the only good thing that had happened to me in a while. A part of me, ok, a huge part of me, would miss him, which caused my heart to seize in my chest.
Mallory wiped the counter with a wet rag. “Penny for your thoughts.”
“You’ll need a whole lot of pennies.”
Her laugh sounded as if a donkey was heehawing. It was utterly adorable. “I have a jar full of pennies at my house. Should I bring them over?”
“Why do you have a jar full of pennies?”
“My grandma always said that pennies are good luck. I’ve collected them over the years so my luck never runs out.”
“That’s actually kind of genius.”
Mallory grinned. “I know.”
The chocolate chip cookie was gooey in the middle and crispy on the outside, perfect. Crumbs cascaded down my uniform.
“Is it boy problems?” Mallory guessed correctly. “Because although I’ve been practically married since I was eighteen, I remember what it was like to date.”