Since Jules was taking forever and a day in the shower, I used the opportunity to clean up the mess we’d made in the living room—a toppled coat tree, knocked-over picture frames.
I’d just finishing straightening up when a boom of thunder cracked the silence. My head jerked up, and I crossed to the window and pulled aside the curtains.
“Fuck.”
Somehow, the light drizzle from earlier had exploded into a full-blown storm. Another crack of thunder rattled the old wooden bones of the house, and rain lashed against the windows in such thick sheets it created tiny, fast-flowing river systems on the glass.
“What’s going on?”
I turned to see Jules fresh out of the shower, her hair damp around her shoulders and her body wrapped in a tiny towel.
My cock perked with interest, but I ignored the horny bastard. It’d had enough for the night. It was time for my brain to take the wheel, and my brain told me the faster I got Jules out of here, the better.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t let her leave when it was storming like this outside.
“The apocalypse started while we were fucking,” I said.
She peered over my shoulder and rolled her eyes. “You’re being dramatic. It’s a little rain.” She fished her phone from the table where she’d left it.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling a car.” Her brow puckered. “The price surge when it rains is ridiculous—hey!”
I ignored her protest as I snatched the phone out of her hand. “Unless you have a death wish, you are not getting in a car in these conditions.”
“It’s rain,Josh. Water. I’ll be fine.”
“Water that cars can slide and get into accidents in,” I growled. “I work in the ER. Do you know how many car accident cases I see from storms? A lot.”
“You’re being paranoid. I’m not—”
Our phones shrieked with emergency flash flood warning text alerts.
“That’s it.” I shoved her phone into my pocket. “You’re staying until the rain lets up.”
I wouldn’t let anyone, not even my worst enemy, go home in these conditions. The chances were slim, but if anything happened to her…
My throat constricted.
I couldn’t have another death on my hands.
Jules must’ve seen the conviction in my eyes, because she sighed in resignation. “Can I at least borrow something to wear while I wait? I’m not spending the next God knows how many hours in my club dress.”
Half an hour later, she’d changed into one of my old T-shirts and we’d settled on the couch, arguing over which movie to watch.
“Too boring.”
“Too cheesy.”
“No horror. I hate horror.”
“That’s a kid’s movie, Red.”
“So? Kid’s movies can be good.”
“Yeah. If you’re a fucking kid.”
Jules responded with a sweet smile. “Funny you should say that, considering how hard you cried watching The Lion King. Last year.”
I scowled. Ava. How many times did I have to tell her not to share every single fucking thing about me with her friends?
“Mufasa didn’t deserve to die, okay?” I snapped. “At least I’m not such a wuss I hide behind my hands every time the poster for a horror movie pops up.”
“I’m not a wuss. I just dislike ugly things, which is why I try not to look at you—don’t you dare put The Ring on!”
“Try and stop me.”
After more useless bickering, we finally settled on the fairest way to choose—by closing our eyes and scrolling until we hit the lucky selection.
It was…Finding Nemo.
You’ve gotta be shitting me.
I kept my expression neutral, but my muscles locked with tension as the movie’s opening scene unfurled.
“Why are you so quiet?” Jules slid a sidelong glance in my direction. “Don’t tell me you don’t like this movie either. It’s a classic.”
A dozen excuses sat on the tip of my tongue, but the truth swept past all of them and spilled out before I could stop it. “This was me and my dad’s favorite movie,” I said shortly. “We watched it every year on my birthday. Tradition.”
Jules’s face softened for the first time that night. “We can watch something else.”
“Nah, we’re good. It’s just a movie.”
Onscreen, Marlin the clownfish pursued the boat that had captured his son Nemo to no avail.
It was ironic that a movie about a role model parent was the one that reminded me most of Michael, considering he was the exact opposite of a good parent.
“Finding Nemo is fish propaganda,” Jules said out of nowhere. “Did you know real-life fish are terrible parents? Most fish species are happy to abandon their newborns to fend for themselves. It’s not worth the energy and risk for them to try and protect their offspring.”
A startled laugh escaped me. “How do you know that?”
“I did a report on it in high school. I got an A,” Jules added with pride.
I suppressed another smile. “Of course you did.” My leg brushed against hers when I shifted positions, and a tiny electric zing shot up my thigh before I yanked it away. “What does your dad do?” I asked, trying to cover up my knee-jerk reaction.
Part of me was also genuinely curious. Jules never talked about her family.
She shrugged. “No idea. He left when I was a baby.”
“Shit. I’m sorry.”Way to step into it, Chen.
“It’s fine. From what I hear, he was an asshole anyway.”
“Children of asshole fathers unite,” I quipped, earning myself a small laugh.
We fell into a comfortable silence as we watched the movie. I only half paid attention to what was happening onscreen; the other half was busy gauging Jules’s reactions to my favorite scenes. Her laugh when Marlin met Dory, her gasp when the shark started chasing the pair, her humming along to Dory’s famous just keep swimming mantra.
She must’ve seen the movie already, but she reacted like it was her first time. It was oddly charming.
I dragged my eyes back to the screen. Focus.
It was only when we neared the end of the film that I realized the rain had stopped. I checked on Jules to find her passed out with her head nestled against the throw pillow on her other side.
One of our rules was no sleepovers, but she looked so peaceful I couldn’t bring myself to wake her up.
It was only one night, and the weather had forced her to stay over. It wasn’t like we were going to make a habit of staying over each other’s places.
Just one night. That’s it.