"You're here," Grace noticed.

The man couldn't take a hint. After three days of silence from both him and her father, she thought they'd backed off. She'd thought he was just daft before, but now Grace realized he was stubborn as well. "Why the hell can't you take a hint?"

Jesse ignored her and walked through the open door that she should have just closed in his place the second she found out it was him. It was Grace's own fault for opening it in the first place. She hadn't been expecting any orders, had no friends anymore, and the neighbors knew well enough to leave her alone.

"Trust me, your hint didn't go unnoticed," Jesse said as he took off his blazer and hung it over her dining room chair. "I'm just choosing to ignore it."

"I don't like you." Truth was, Grace was already starting to hate him a bit. It was true the man was easy on the eyes, but that only went so far and already didn't in the least bit work in his favor.

Jesse just flashed her a carefree grin. "Why not? I'm a likable guy."

Maybe to the outside world. But here in her apartment, he was quickly becoming a pain in her ass. "Are you stoned or just slow?"

"Not stoned," Jesse answered with a chuckle. "But if you're offering..."

He probably would too. If only to take her by surprise or try to weasel his way into her inner circle of one. "I'm not offering. I know that game. Weed is like giving food to a stray dog. You do it for someone once and they just keep showing up at your door."

"I'm going to keep showing up at your door either way. Just thought a more relaxed atmosphere might help move things along," he told her before taking a seat in the chair he'd been in earlier in the week. "You are carrying, aren't you?"

That cocky smile of his may have been the most infuriating thing about him, which was saying something given the ever-growing list. "Go fuck yourself."

"Nah, that's one thing I prefer to do in private. Not something I like to do in people's living rooms while they're just standing there glaring holes in my head."

Maybe that was the most infuriating thing about him. "You have a comeback for everything, don't you?" Grace shook her head and ran her fingers through her tangled blonde hair. "You know what, never mind. I'm calling my dad and putting an end to this bullshit."

Before Grace could pick up her phone, Jesse laughed her off. "And tell him what? I declined to masturbate in front of you? Offered to get high with you? Trust me, he won't be surprised or outraged by either. He'll probably wonder how the whole masturbation thing got brought up, though."

"I'm going to tell him that whatever deal you have with him is off," Grace fired back as opened her call log.

"I've already completed my end of the deal. I agreed to meet with you once, and I did that."

"So why the hell are you here a second time?" Grace asked.

That cocky grin of his was no longer on in face, nor any trace of a smile. "He thinks this might be a lost cause, but I don't share that opinion."

A lost cause. That's what her father thought of her at this point. After losing his wife eight years ago, he'd come to feel like he lost his only daughter as well.

Grace blinked back the tears as she walked out of the room, going into her bathroom to grab her stash. When she returned, she just set the bag and the pipe on the table, then curled up on the couch. "I don't know why I'm so angry all the time."

"Yes you do," Jesse retorted, then lowered himself to the ground to start pulling the seeds out of the weed. "You may not have the words to express it, but you know."

"I guess I do," Grace agreed, her dark eyes remaining on his hands as he filled the pipe. "In three weeks we were all supposed to be graduating. They'll never get their degrees or get married and have kids. They'll never lead the fabulous lives they'd dreamed up or see the world."

"So you think that because they can't have all of those things, you shouldn't either. So you drop out of college with six months left to go, avoid talking to people, pretend you never had dreams of your own, and shut yourself away in this apartment."

"Harsh." Yet accurate.

Jesse set the pipe down and looked up. "I'm always going to be real with you, Grace. You're not always going to like what I have to say, and sometimes you're going to want to punch me in the face."

"Oh, that much I already know," Grace quipped. "I don't think five minutes have passed where I haven't wanted to hit you in the face."

He let out a quiet laugh, then picked the pipe back up. After holding the lighter above it, he sucked in a long, shallow breath and held it in. After leaning back in his chair, he let it out slowly, the room filling with the cloud of smoke. "There's two ways we can do this thing. Professionally, where you come down to my office and talk while I listen and take notes, while saying vague, enlightening shit now and then while I charge you an arm and a leg. Or we can just keep doing what we're doing now. I come here after work, we talk like friends, stay real like friends, and see if we can get somewhere. More than anything, I think you just need someone to talk to. Whether I do that as your official therapist, or as a family friend who happens to be a therapist is entirely up to you."

Right now, there wasn't really a choice. Going outside wasn't an option. She had a trust fund left to her by her mother, but that was dwindling since she was currently not working, yet still living in this apartment alone. The only choice she had was whether she kept letting him into the apartment or not.

So Grace got up and opened the windows behind him, then grabbed his blazer from the chair to shove it in the crack under her front door. Once she was certain her neighbor's wouldn't be turning her in for smoking pot, Grace turned around, grabbed the pipe he was holding out, and sat back down on the couch. "I still don't like you."

Although she expected that cocky grin of his to return, instead a warm, small smile took over. "You will."