Page 75 of Back for Seconds

I raised my brows at him. “Weirder than that?”

Joey stayed quiet for another moment, chewing at his bottom lip. Moonlight washed over his profile. “I actually… I used to live in your house.”

“Really?”

“It was my grandmother’s house. And we lived with her when Isaac was first born. I loved that house.” He let out a self-conscious laugh. “I always dreamed of buying it back from whoever owned it and finally painting it a better shade of blue.”

“That’s wild. What a crazy coincidence.”

“I never believed in coincidences.” His eyes fell to mine. He had this way of looking at me—like he could read my mind. “I don’t think there’s anything about this that happened by mistake.”

“Joey…” I raised my brows at him. Did he really think we’d been brought together by some divine intervention, the spirited hand of his dead grandmother?

“You don’t have to agree with me, June. But if you knew my grandmother…” He let the sentence trail off into silence. “When I first stepped into your place, I had this like…like a flashback. I could almost hear her voice. I could smell her. I know that sounds crazy, but I swear. I felt like she…brought me to you.”

“Grief is like that. It…it must be really hard when it’s from a happy place. From missing her.”

Joey shook his head. “It didn’t feel like grief. It felt like she was trying to reach me, waking me up. I can’t describe it.” He pressed his lips together in frustration. “I sound stupid.”

“No, you don’t.” I wrapped an arm around his chest, snuggling in closer. “You love her a lot.”

“She taught me everything about being a good person. No one could make you feel safe and welcome like she did.”

I tightened my arms around him. “Sounds familiar.”

He turned his gaze down to me. “I try, Junie. To be like that—a safe place.”

“Junie,” I repeated in a whisper, closing my eyes. My head was tucked against his chest, alternately soft and warm, firm and steady. “You don’t have to try. You just are. I see it—I see it in everything you do.”

He ran his knuckles up and down my bare arm, lulling me into a half-wake state where I swore I could hear the bay wind moving through the trees, the smell of a fireplace or a wood stove on the air that seeped through the old picture window. Joey held me close, his long legs tangled with mine.

“What do you want for breakfast tomorrow?” he asked softly, his lips a whisper against my neck. “I’ll make you anything you want, doesn’t have to be vegan.”

“You don’t have to cook any more meals for me. You deserve a break. You should let me cook for you.”

“Food is my love language,” he said—then in a rush, he added: “It’s how I take care of my friends.”

“Oh, you sure do take care of your friends.” I pressed my lips to his jawline, then the corner of his mouth. A spiteful part of me wanted to make calling me his friend the hardest thing he’d ever done.

With a deep laugh, Joey rolled over on top of me, every part of him surrounding, engulfing me; the smell of his hair product, his laundry detergent, his sweat that’d dried on my skin. His chest rumbled with laughter, his hands sliding up my side as he pulled me into his chest. His curls were loose and wild, tickling my skin. “Can I take care of you again?”

I kissed him, drawing his bottom lip between my teeth.

Unaware of what time it was, whether or not the sun had started to rise somewhere far off in the sky, I lost myself in the moment. Would we be able to make good on our promise, that no matter what, we’d be there for each other, that we’d stay friends? Even if someone else came into the picture?

Would I have to, one day, shake hands with Joey’s new girlfriend and act like this had never happened? I couldn’t even be too jealous in that twisted hypothetical. Joey deserved to be loved. Even if it was, ultimately, with someone else.

And for me… Well, there was no one else for me—at least for now. And not even in a romantic way. I didn’t need anybody else when Joey was around. He’d slipped into my life when all the entry points had been firmly shut and made himself comfortable.

I trusted Joey with every piece of me.

That’s what I told myself, as his body melted into mine and that feeling returned—the flare in my stomach, the wave of desire, the desperate need for him. All the somethings that felt a lot like love.

Chapter 24 Joey

Christmas

“Merry Christmas, Joey.”