6. Satisfied Jax

I didn’t stop grinning the whole ride home and scream-sang at the top of my lungs to anything on the radio. I was high. Getting to know people in an environment that felt like it belonged to me was freeing. My body buzzed with adrenaline, and falling asleep at a reasonable hour wasn’t going to happen.

The apartment should’ve been chilly because of the rain, but I hardly felt it. A hot shower turned my skin bright red before I crawled naked under the tan sheets. The ceiling must have been more interesting than ever, because my brain could not shut off, no matter how much I stared straight ahead.

My phone chattered at midnight with a text. I grinned again when I read the name. Ethan put himself in my phone as Sauceror after we joked that his favorite thing to do when not running the store was cooking.

If you ever tire of living

in no-man’s-land, my

roommate left last month.

Apartment’s above the shop.

Think about it. Rent reasonable.

The night kept getting better. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity, especially since it was close to my work, and now I had people to rely on.

That’s amazing, actually.

I’ll chat with my guy here

about when I can go.

Nice. I’ll pull my ad.

Have a good night.

I nodded to no one and put my phone down for a moment. Ethan was a stand-up guy, somebody I got along with instantly, and living with him would be easy. Gavin and Hawk were funny and flirtatious, different from any gay couple I knew, not that I could claim many. Cordelia was creative and funny. Annie was, too, in a quirkier way that said she was happy being by herself. I imagined she was the type of girl who made things out of resin and glitter for an online store and didn’t give a damn about anyone’s opinion.

Reliving the humor of the evening, I went back through tonight’s text chain. One by one, we said our names and added links to social media accounts—I did, too, even though I hadn’t looked since the breakup. The only person who didn’t share a link also had the most curt message:

Rob here

I huffed to myself, reliving our uncomfortable conversation when the game started. He didn’t like me; that much was obvious. He was also unlike anyone I’d ever met. Bulky and strong, like a short football player, his dark hair was cut short, receding at his temples. If Ethan hadn’t said he was trans, I wouldn’t have guessed it. His deep voice and five o’clock shadow were striking. He certainly acted like someone who, in the past, would’ve picked on me for my nerdy status. The fact he challenged me about whether or not I belonged painted his name in red.

Only one person responded after Rob. I hadn’t noticed it earlier.

Jaxson, I’m Tabby.

My heart jumped. I squinted and read it again and again. Of all the things I’d said to the group, I couldn’t remember if I’d mentioned how my first name was spelled weird. Most people assumed the traditional way, but Tabby got it, no question. Like Rob, Tabby was stronger than me—not a feat since I hated the gym and always had—even if he was more than a few inches shorter. His pirate-like goatee fully outlined his chin, dragging up his jaw on both sides. I was jealous of it since my light hair was virtually pointless to grow out. Some of my favorite titles made up the graphics of his clever book shirt, and I wondered if we had more in common.

For a moment, I looked at my hand. When we shook earlier, he didn’t hesitate. His firm grip was familiar. Like home. He said I didn’t know him. But no harm in checking, right?

I clicked open his social link and searched for clues about where he’d lived and if we’d met in passing. Nothing. Not so much as a mutual friend. As I stared at a happy picture of Tabby and Rob snuggling together in a park, my pathetic heart longed to have someone, too. Tabby’s gaze, washed out by the glare of the sun, still pierced through me even in photos.

My stomach rushed. I plugged in my phone, burying all the sensations that welled in my body. New friends or not, I wasn’t ready to put that part of myself on the line, and I couldn’t fall back into a routine of falling for someone so fast. The last thing I needed was another broken heart. Least of all from someone who was already taken.