56 Days (Black) Read Online Free Page B

frozen (now hot) burrito from the microwave, my phone pinged.
     
    773.555.7630 : Hey.
    Me :  Wrong number.
    773.555.7630 : It’s Jack.
     
    I pushed the screen and saved his number to my contacts.
     
    Me :  Canceling this weekend?
    Jack :  No.  Just wanted to see what you were up to.
    Me :  Don’t you have something to sand?
    Jack :  More interested in you.
    Me :  I’ve got a hot date with a frozen burrito.
    Jack :  You’re a chef.
    Me :  I’m not.  I work at a bakery.
    Jack :  You don’t cook?
    Me :  Not really.  Lean Cuisine and I are super tight.
    Jack :  I could take you somewhere.
    Me :  Where?
    Jack:   Letizia’s is still open for another hour.
    Me:   Ooh, oatmeal cookies.  You really get me. 
    Jack:   I really do.
    Me:   It would take you the full hour to get here.
    Jack:   Nope.  I’m in your neighborhood.  So?
    Me :  Mmm, no.  I like to remain mysterious.  See you Saturday.

Chapter Three
     
     
    On Friday night, I packed my bag for Michigan.  Why had I insisted on going with him?  I mean, what would our hotel situation be?  Would we sleep in the same bed together?  What would we talk about in the car?  What was I supposed to wear?
    I started shoving things in a bag.  A pair of high-waisted leather shorts (indecent), a raw silk midnight blue tank top with a low V in the front, a studded leather jacket, a bunch of long silver necklaces, Jack’s ribbed undershirt, my four-inch heeled booties, a couple of black push-up bras, two thongs, one pair of boy shorts, a black silk nightie, and a gunmetal gray skirt.  I also packed my silver bikini which consisted of four small triangles and a few strings covering all of my necessary parts… barely.
    It was a n insane amount of clothes for one night and two days, but I didn’t know where we were going.  I had to be prepared for all fashion emergencies.
    Once the bag was zipped, I slipped into bed and turned off the lights. 
    My phone pinged.
     
    Jack :  Hope you’re not sleeping.
    Me :  Just got into bed.
    Jack :  What are you wearing?
    Me :  Not on your life.
    Jack :  Ha.  What did you do tonight?
    Me :  Watched a movie.  Ate popcorn.  Packed for tomorrow.
    Jack :  What movie?
    Me :  The Birds.
    Jack :  Hitchcock?
    Me :  Tippi Hedren was the most beautiful actress in the world.
    Jack :  Meh.  You’re prettier.
    Me :  Okay, buddy.
    Jack :  Real popcorn or microwave?
    Me :  Real.  Duh.
    Jack :  This from the girl who eats frozen burritos.
    Me :  Did you want something or did you just feel the need to harass my life choices?
    Jack :  Thought about you this week.
    Me :  Oh yeah?
    Jack :  A lot.
    Me :  Come over.
    Jack :  Yeah?
    Me :  No.  See you in the morning, Jack.
     
    I lay awake for hours, wondering why in the fuck I had suggested going with him.
    * ****
    I sat on the stoop at 7:55, waiting for him.  I was used to getting up early and I definitely didn’t want him ringing my bell.  After seeing his place, I felt differently about my little apartment.  His house was for a grown man.  Mine was for a girl in her early 20s, not for one pushing 30.
    He pulled to my curb at 8:01 , rolling down the window. 
    “You’re ready ,” he said, sounding surprised.
    “Did you think I wouldn’t be?”
    “Well, I guess I didn’t know.  We don’t know each other very well, I suppose.” 
    He hopped out of the truck cab and walked over to my steps, grabbing my bag.
    “You look really pretty,” he mumbled.
    “Thanks,” I answered.  It took nearly an hour the night before to pick out my ensemble, trying on half of my closet.  Finally, I decided on a black jersey knit A-line tank dress that landed a few inches below my underwear. I paired it with copper five-inch cork wedges with a short zip up the back. 
    “ Jesus Christ, what do you have in here?”
    “Stuff.” 
    I smiled at him as he helped me into the tall truck.  I buckled my seatbelt; Buster settled his head in my lap.
    “He missed