Next Man, Better Plan novel Chapter 90

“Girlfriend?” Jonathan was clearly taken aback, a flicker of confusion in his narrow eyes. “What girlfriend?”

Why wouldn't he admit to her existence?

Stephanie didn’t bother pressing the issue. It wasn't like they had any feelings for each other. His dating history was none of her business.

When Stephanie didn't ask again, Jonathan came closer.

He sat down on the sofa. From her angle, when Stephanie turned her head, she could see the top two buttons of his pajama shirt were undone, revealing a hint of his lean chest muscles.

He leaned back casually, his dark eyes lowered, with a stubborn set to them. “Let’s be clear. What girlfriend are you talking about?”

Stephanie didn't expect him to be so insistent. Fine. “I heard you on the phone. Not long ago, you were breaking up with your girlfriend.”

She had overheard two of their calls. Back then, he had said things like “Are you obsessed with me or something,” “I never liked you,” and “There's nothing between us.” Weren't those all classic breakup lines from a jerk?

Jonathan thought for a full thirty seconds before he understood why Stephanie had come to that conclusion.

He curled two fingers and lightly tapped her on the forehead.

“You shouldn’t listen to only half a conversation. If my grandmother knew that at her ripe old age of over eighty she could earn the title of my ‘girlfriend’… I’m not sure if she’d scold me for being disrespectful or be delighted that someone still sees her as a young lady.”

Stephanie froze. So he had been talking to Mrs. Vasquez Sr.?

Jonathan asked, “Any other questions? Ask them now, and I’ll clear everything up tonight.”

His eyelids drooped. He was wearing only thin pajamas in this weather, and worse, the kitchen window was wide open. The wind billowed his pajamas, making them sway back and forth.

But he seemed oblivious to the cold, standing there all alone. The glass door separated them into two different worlds. Stephanie watched as Jonathan slowly peeled back the lid of the cup and started eating with the flimsy fork that came with it.

The vast house seemed to contain only him. Even from a distance, watching his clothes flutter made Stephanie feel cold.

The wind tousled his hair as he stood in that small corner of the kitchen, looking as if he were in a separate, abandoned world of his own.

Looking at his lonely figure, Stephanie felt her eyes begin to sting.

She suddenly realized that she and Jonathan were, perhaps, the same kind of person.