Chapter 23

Jon was right; it was time for last call at the bar and they decided to call it a night. Richie dropped Keira off first, and Jon insisted on walking her into her apartment building. She was still unsteady on her feet, so he linked his arm through hers and helped her make it up the elevator and to her door. She took her keys out of her purse and dropped them three times before he finally took them from her. “Which key is it?”

“It’s the round one next to the Toyota key,” she said, happy to lean against him with her eyes closed and let him find the key.

“Red Sox, huh?” he said, noticing her keychain.

“Yeah, Red Sox. My parents are from Boston, remember? I was born and raised a Red Sox fan. Just one more reason why we could never get along, Jon. I can’t put up with a Yankees fan.”

He laughed. “I like the Mets.”

She shrugged. “Well. That’s better than the Yankees, but I am very loyal to my Red Sox. And also the Patriots."

Jon smiled sympathetically at her. "In that case, I should apologize for the ass-kicking that my team gave yours in the Superbowl this year. That must have been painful for you to watch."

She glared at him, but she knew it was all in good fun.

"I'll just make a Soul fan out of you, then we'll get along fine," he said. Still chuckling, he unlocked her door and pushed it open, helping her inside. She hit the light switch inside the door, flooding the dining area with light. She dropped her purse on the floor and went into the kitchen, where she poured herself a huge glass of water. “Do you want anything?” she asked him.

He shook his head, his eyes falling on the bouquet of roses in the center of her dining room table. It didn’t escape his notice that the lilacs he’d sent were nowhere to be seen. He looked around, taking in the large windows and spacious rooms. "Nice place."

"Thanks."

"Well...I better get going. Are you alright?"

She was stunned by the disappointment she felt at the thought of him leaving. “Can you stay?” she asked, the words slipping out before she realized what she was saying.

He hesitated, unsure of what she meant.

“You can have my bed; I’ll sleep on the couch,” she said.

He considered for a minute, then took his cell phone from its holder on his belt and called Richie’s cell. “Hey man, you can get going – I’m gonna stay here with Kathryn.”

Richie replied, “You know what the fuck you’re doing, man?”

Jon laughed, “Yeah, I’m sleeping on the couch, don’t worry about it. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Overhearing the conversation, Keira said, “You’re not sleeping on the couch, I said you could have my bed.”

“Now what kind of guy would that make me, if I made you sleep on the couch? Let’s get you to bed.”

The thought of crashing face first into her bed was so welcoming that she couldn’t resist it. “I’ll find you something to sleep in,” she said, and stumbled for her bedroom. She managed to come up with a pair of sweatpants that Rob had left behind one night, and she brought them out to Jon, even though it made her feel guilty. She was getting used to that feeling. She brought him an extra pillow and some blankets from her bedroom closet. “Are you sure you don’t want my bed?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” he said, and pulled her against him for a hug. She let him hold her for a minute, happy to be in his arms again. For a second she was tempted to try for another kiss, but then she realized she was in no shape to start anything.

“Thank you for staying,” she said. He nodded and walked her to her bedroom. Pulling the covers back for her, he waited until she settled down on the bed with her head on her pillow. Then he pulled the covers up and tucked them tight around her, kissing her on the cheek.

“Goodnight, Kathy.”

She grabbed his hand and squeezed before letting go. “Goodnight, Jon.” After he left the room, she giggled drunkenly and called, “I mean, goodnight, Jon-boy.”

He groaned and called back, “There’s another one I’ve heard a million times.”