“Has he bothered you since you left him?”
I’d run out of ways to spin it if he kept prying, so I gave him the simplest answer I could. “Not really. He’s made my life a lot harder, that’s for sure, but his reign of terror has ended.” At least, I hoped it had. “Enough about that…I get that you’d like to keep a level of anonymity between us, but why don’t you tell me what you look like?”
With a slow inhale and elongated exhale, I could vividly picture a man struggling to drop the topic at hand. But in the end, he gave in and moved along with the conversation. “Well, I’m tall. I have dark hair and dark eyes.”
“You’re horrible at this,” I joked, covering my mouth to contain my laughter. “Slow down. Tall can mean anything. I’m five two, but compared to a toddler, I’m tall. So spill it—give me the stats.”
“Why does this feel like a horrible dating game? Okay, fine. I’m five ten on a good day, and I weigh two-ninety-five first thing in the morning—which by the end of the day could be slightly over three hundred…depending on what I ate. Does that make you happy?”
I had no idea if it was a joke or not, and considering we didn’t really know each other, asking could’ve insulted him. So I chose to keep the questions to myself. Eventually, I’d see what he looked like—maybe.
“Yeah, I’m happy. Now, what about your eyes? How dark is dark?”
“Unless I’m outside, or a light is shining on my face, you can’t see my pupils.”
“Interesting. Now…your hair. Are we talking black, or just really dark brown?”
“I have no idea,” he blew out with a hearty chuckle. “It’s dark.”
“Fine. That’ll have to do. How long is it?”
“Short. A little longer on the top, but not enough to cover my forehead when brushed forward. Damn, these questions aren’t easy to answer. Guys don’t pay attention to these kinds of things.”
“In the event I go missing, what distinguishing marks do you have on your body?”
His laughter roared through the line, which brought about my own. “I have a birthmark on my right hipbone that you can only see when I’m out in the sun a lot.”
“Any tattoos?” I kept the questions coming.
“One, but you’ll have to wait to find out more about it.”
“Tan? Freckles? Fair skin? Do you burn easily?”
“Yes, I’m tan. I don’t have freckles, nor do I burn. My mom’s side of the family has Native American in them, and my dad’s side is straight-up Italian. So I’m sure you can imagine the level of tan I am, and what I’d look like after a day in the sun.” He didn’t break long enough for me to ask anything else before turning the tables once again. “Now it’s your turn. Same questions—don’t leave anything out.”
I hated describing myself, and I suddenly realized what Cash had felt like when I’d put him on the spot. “I’ve already told you I’m short, but I refuse to tell you how much I weigh because—”
“That’s not fair. Men are just as sensitive as women are about their bodies,” he teased.
Figuring he wouldn’t give up until I gave him something, I decided to go big or go home. Even though I hadn’t ever truly dated the way other girls my age had, I still knew a thing or two about the appeal of a woman’s body.
“Fine…but if you stop talking to me, it will be obvious why.”
“I’m not trying to date you, Jade. So it doesn’t matter if you weigh ninety pounds or five hundred. I don’t give a shit when it comes to my friends, which means I care even less about the numbers on the scale of a platonic roommate.”
I bit the inside of my cheek before blurting out, “Two hundred and twenty-seven.” The number just came to me, nearly a hundred pounds over the truth. Even though I hadn’t stepped on a scale in a while, I could tell by the way my clothes fit that I wasn’t too far from my pre-Aria weight.
“Good, and thank you. Now, you may carry on with the rest.”
I rolled my eyes and settled further into the wooden bench, watching my daughter, who could’ve lived in the sandbox if I’d let her. “I have brown hair and blue eyes. No tattoos. No birthmarks or strange moles.” As soon as the words came out, I wanted to smack myself. I’d yet again made myself a prime target for anyone looking to abduct me. Not only didn’t I have family who’d report me missing, but I also admitted to having no distinguishing traits to identify when my body was discovered. I grimaced at myself and carried on. “And I’m not really tan or fair-skinned. Just smack-dab in the middle.”
“Sounds rather average.” Before I could complain, he followed it up with, “And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. I personally think average people are the easiest to get along with. Less judgment.”
“What’s your middle name?” I took advantage of the lull in our friendly interrogation.
“Dylan. I think I remember you saying yours is Duran…where’d that come from?”
And again, he found a way to redirect the questions. “Ever heard of Duran Duran? Well, let’s just say your parents weren’t the only ones who were fans of someone, and then gave that name to their kid. At least yours is cool. There’s nothing cool about mine.”
“I disagree. I like it.”
“Thank you.” My cheeks burned, and it had nothing to do with the sun.
He started to say something else, but I had to interrupt him and end our call. I didn’t want to take the chance he’d hear my screaming toddler call me Mommy. Luckily, I managed to press the red button just after saying goodbye but before she got close enough, covered in sand, crying for me to scare the bug away. I had no clue what she’d seen or where it had gone, but I did my best to pretend I’d killed it, then I let her play for a little bit longer, all while contemplating what I should do about Cash.
In all honesty, if he turned out to be a nice guy without a criminal background—or a tendency to chop people up and hide their remains in a deep freezer—I wouldn’t mind taking him up on the offer of renting his spare room. But it wasn’t that easy. First, there was the dilemma regarding my job…or lack thereof. I couldn’t exactly pay him money I didn’t have, and no one in their right mind would let me live off them for free. Add on top of that, I had a two-year-old who still hadn’t been potty trained because I didn’t have access to my own bathroom—it was difficult to teach her how to go when all we had at times was a kitchen sink.
So needless to say, it didn’t matter how amazing he was or how badly I needed to find a place to live, Cash Nicholson wasn’t a viable option, and the sooner I came clean to him, the better off everything would be. When I assumed he was a creep, I didn’t mind wasting his time. But now that I knew—presumed—he wasn’t, it felt wrong to mislead him.