4

She has no business being jealous.

None whatsoever.

And yet she can't help but feel the pang of it at every little touch Claire and Leon exchange once they sit at the table. The flirtatious glances and unnecessarily loud giggles.

It leaves her stunned. Wordless. Uncomfortable, mostly with herself than with them. Because she shouldn't be feeling any of the things she's feeling right now. And so, she excuses herself to go to the bathroom. Not because she needs to use the bathroom, but because she needs to be anywhere that's not this table.

She pats some cold water on her neck once she's at the sink. Watches her reflection in the mirror, the pinch in her brows. The obvious frustration.

Why the hell did he show up?

Why?

Even if she was secretly praying that he would. Even if she texted him with the hope that she would change his mind.

It would have been better if he didn't come.

Because the moment she saw him in that hall, thoughts of him filled her head in an instant, fogged up her mind completely. And all she can think about now is that night in the hotel. Unforgettable. Haunting. His lips on her skin. His hands on her body. The weight of him on top of her. The way his breaths mixed with hers. The way he whispered her name in her ear. It makes her shudder.

Their secret that no one knows about.

Her hands rest on each side of the sink, head low. Looking at nothing in particular.

If she wants to get through the night, she'll need to lock that up too. The memory of that night. Lock it deep, deep down.

She can do it.

One long breath in, another one out, then she leaves the bathroom, determined as ever to have herself a good time.

That determination crumbles instantly when she finds him standing just outside.

Not just standing, waiting. For her. And it's apparent in the way he moves toward her with urgency. The way he looks at her with longing. His eyes sizing her up. And her body is consumed by a weakness that forces her to back into the wall for support.

His hand on her face. His thumb on her lips. And he has her melting into his touch. Her heart beating in her ears. She doesn't even know how she manages to get any words out; let alone how she's still standing. How she longed to feel his touch again. To look into his eyes. To hear his voice. And when he leans in, she almost surrenders right to him.

It's so lucky that she remembers, a second before their lips meet, about Chris. So lucky that she manages to stop him. So lucky that she can speak.

Leon's shock… or is it more disappointment? Whichever one it is, he can't hide it, even behind that smile he puts on seconds after she breaks the news to him. News that shouldn't be news. Because if he'd been good at staying in touch, with anyone, really, he would have known.

News that she should have told him herself before.

So why didn't she?

She never did end what they had. If they had anything.

"Congratulations," he says. "Told you he'd ask if you gave him time."

"Yeah…" Jill says. "You did."

Except, Chris wasn't the one who asked her. No. He wasn't the one to initiate anything. She did. She started it, whatever it is she started.

It was born out of frustration more than anything. A desire for a certain someone that was too far away from her reach. But maybe it's also Leon's fault. Ever since that night, she couldn't stop thinking about what he said. About Chris, and the way he looks at her, and so she started paying closer attention to it, noticing, the little things that usually went unnoticed before. They were all there. The little smiles. The loving touches. The words of encouragement. The selfless acts. All things between friends, but with that added touch of more than friends.

She picked up on it immediately, but didn't know what to do with it. And she kept it in the backburner while Leon was still entertaining her with those once-in-a-lifetime text-backs. Because part of her didn't want to drop it so soon. Part of her wanted to hold onto it—to him. Part of her wanted to give them a chance. See where it goes. Because that night, they connected. Not just physically, but there was something deeper. The feeling of having known someone all your life, despite having just met them. And she wanted to know more about him. She wanted to know all of him.

But her bed got lonelier and lonelier, colder and colder, scarier and scarier.

And it was the night he sent her that last text. A month late.

Sorry. Work happened. And then more work. And then more.

That she decided she was done. She didn't want to do this anymore. Hope. Not when he wasn't giving her any hints that he wanted her to hold on. Not when he wasn't giving her any signs that he was holding on too.

Chris was quick to notice something wasn't right with her. Like he always does. Because he knows her too well. Understands her. Can read her just from the look on her face. And maybe she did it to distract him. Because she didn't want him to figure her out. Didn't want him to know. But she also did it to distract herself. Because she didn't want to think about Leon anymore.

And so she took Chris's face in her hands and pulled him down into a kiss. One that he pulled away from at first. Confused. Until she asked him, told him, "Kiss me."

He swallowed, his hands hovering by her sides hesitantly. "Are you sure?"

And to prove both to him and to herself that yes, she was sure, that she was never more confident of anything in her life (she wasn't, not one bit), she pushed her lips against his again, with more force, until he eventually caved and kissed her back. And it may have been a little too fast for Chris. It was just as fast for her, too, but she was desperate to forget and so she dragged him with her all the way to her apartment, all the way to her bedroom, all the way to her bed.

And none of it registered in her brain until the morning after, when she woke up from what she thought was a dream, only to find Chris naked beside her, holding her to him, breathing against her flesh.

What the hell did she do?

It's a question that she asked herself repeatedly every day since, whenever she woke up and Chris was there again. And again. And again.

And Leon filled her thoughts every single time.

She returns to the table with a troubled stomach. Appetite gone. Craving only the bitterness of alcohol in her mouth.

Leon joins them moments later, taking his seat across from her. Their eyes meet for a split second before looking away.

"I thought you went to wash your hands and face?" Claire remarks as she scans him.

Leon looks at her momentarily. "Uh, yeah, I… I decided I should just wait till I can take a shower instead. Didn't wanna make a mess in the bathroom after all."

Claire giggles and shakes her head at him. "Okay, weirdo." She reaches into her handbag and pulls out a pack of wipes, places it before him. "Here. At least clean your hands."

"Thanks." Leon says.

Jill's meal is bland. Tasteless. And she nitpicks bits of it with her fork, barely able to put more than two bites in her mouth. Chris's eyes are on her the whole time, watching, but he doesn't comment. Probably doesn't want to ask her the same question for the billionth time today, or perhaps he wants to keep this night focused on Claire. Whatever his reasons, she's grateful not to be confronted right now.

When they leave the restaurant, Jill hangs in the back with Chris, while Leon and Claire walk ahead of them, laughing, chatting, maybe a little tipsy. Claire's hand runs down his arm, and his briefly touches her lower back.

Jill's throat tightens, eyes fall away from them and to the ground instead.

"Thank you again for coming, both of you," Claire tells them when they're about to get in Chris's car, and she gives each one of them a quick hug. "Let's go out again soon. We can't only do this when work allows us."

Chris ruffles Claire's hair playfully. "Miss you. Take care of yourself, alright?"

Claire smiles, then turns to Jill when she says, "Take care of my brother, please. I know I can't ask him to take care of himself."

The laugh that comes out of Jill's mouth makes her want to choke. "I'll do my best."

"She already does." Chris's arm wraps around Jill's waist, holding her close.

And Jill catches Leon staring for the briefest second. Notes the hardness in his jaw. And the way his eyes flick to hers momentarily.

"See you around." Claire waves goodbye and walks off.

"Hey," Chris says to Leon. "Don't let her drive."

"I'm not drunk, you know," Claire protests. "Just tipsy, and so is Leon, for your information."

"Don't worry about it." Leon nods. "See ya!" he says to them both, sparing Jill one last glance before turning to follow Claire.

"So…" Claire's voice is a whisper, but it still reaches Jill's ears as she turns toward the car. "You said something about a shower?"

Jill opens the door to the passenger seat and slides in quickly, slamming the door shut, maybe a little too hard, before she buckles in.

Chris gets in the driver seat shortly. He watches Leon and Claire get in the car across from them before he turns to Jill. "Talk to me," he says, voice tender, more pleading than demanding. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong." Because nothing should be wrong. Because there's nothing to be upset about. Because what she and Leon had couldn't even be considered a thing to start with. "I'm just tired. I wanna go home and rest."

Chris sighs, but he doesn't press her. He watches as Leon starts up Claire's car and drives away. "I hope… I really hope he's different."

Jill's eyes settle on Chris for a second, watching him questioningly.

"He was in rehab for a while," Chris says. "Drinking problem."

"Right," Jill says. "You… mentioned that before."

Chris nods. "And Claire is… I just want her to be happy, you know. She doesn't need that, on top of everything."

"I'm sure Claire's old enough to decide for herself what does or doesn't make her happy," Jill says, her voice flat. Maybe even bitter.

"You're right." Chris sighs. "I should trust her. I guess I can't help worrying about her."

Jill reaches a hand over to rest on his thigh, and she gives him the softest smile that she can muster right now. "She'll be fine."

Chris returns her fake smile with a genuine one. He takes her hand from his thigh and brings it to his mouth, kissing her temples. Then he lets go of her to start up the car and drive them away, out of the restaurant parking lot, and all the way to his place, this time.

"We don't have to watch a movie if you're tired," he says when they walk in, closing the door behind them. "We can just go straight to bed."

"Yeah," she says, stopping in the middle of his living room. "We can."

But going to sleep isn't going to help her erase those images from her brain. Going to sleep isn't going to shake the thought of Leon and Claire in a shower off her mind. Going to sleep isn't going to do anything good for her. Frankly, she can't think of anything that'll do her any good, and yet she still turns to Chris, tugs him by his shirt, and takes his lips in hers.

He returns her kiss quickly, before gently holding her arms and pulling back. "I thought you were tired?"

"Not for you," she says, and kisses him before he asks her more questions she doesn't want to answer.

Thankfully, he doesn't. He just takes her in his arms and carries her to bed. And she thinks of Leon the whole time Chris is on top of her.

And when they're done, and he holds her in his embrace to sleep, she waits until he does, before she slips out of his arms. She throws her shirt and underwear on, and leaves the bedroom to sit in his office instead, looking at the time on the screen of his laptop constantly, wondering what Leon and Claire are up to right now.

Wondering if Leon will be thinking about her while he's with Claire, the same way she thinks about him while she's with Chris.

Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading! Please do let me know your thoughts in the comments. Always a joy to read those!