“The truth. That’s all. ”
I hear the door of Kayla’s bedroom creak open, and he hears it, too. He freezes for a second, then takes a step toward me.
“I want you. And I like you. I’ve never felt this way before, okay? I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do. I’ve never had a girlfriend, for God’s sakes.”
A shiver wracks me. “What are you saying, JJ?”
“I’m saying…” He lifts a hand to my face, strokes his knuckles over my cheek, and his lashes lower, shadowing his gaze. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing here. Can’t we take it one step at a time? Let me take you to the wedding.”
“Okay,” I whisper and wonder if I’ve lost my mind completely for agreeing to this. “The wedding.”
And then we’ll see in how many pieces I can shatter.
Chapter Sixteen
Jesse
My nerves are shot. What the fuck was I thinking, making it sound like we have something? Talking of girlfriends and shit. Why, just because we slept together? That means nothing. I don’t have to promise anything. Hell, I can’t promise anything. I have nothing to give. I have no roots and no scruples. I’m a bastard orphan slut. Can it get any worse than this?
I stride into her bedroom and grab my T-shirt, dragging over my head angrily. Who am I bullshitting? Just sex. It wasn’t. Not for me. I know it in every fiber of my being. It was amazing. Mind-blowing. Unforgettable.
Like she is, and the way I need her is scaring the holy fucking shit out of me. For so long I convinced myself I don’t need anybody. After I lost Helen, I had to, or I’d have gone round the bend.
Never needed anyone until now. Lying with her in my arms, holding her, kissing her, planning to go to a fucking wedding reception with her…
Dammit, even now my heart booms at the thought and a grin spreads over my face. She makes me feel… warm inside. Good. Whole.
Happy.
And damn, I like the fact she doesn’t want me to be with other girls. Like she wants me for herself.
I want to make her mine. But I’ve never been anyone’s and never had anyone. How does that work?
Zane. I’ll ask him.
My decision taken, I relax and sit on the bed to pull on my socks and boots, taking in her room from this angle. She has more of her jewelry lining her walls, bracelets and pendants made of beads and wire. A photo of herself with two older people catches my eye. Takes me a moment to realize they have to be her parents.
Duh, J. This is what’s normal, not you. You’re the odd one out, with no family.
Rubbing a hand over my face, wondering why Amber would even think of hooking up with me, let alone be my girlfriend, I take one last look around and head out to say goodbye.
Voices drift over from the open kitchen door and I stall. One is Amber, and the other must be Kayla.
“I can see why you like him,” Kayla is saying. “I get it. I mean, that face, that chest, and ass-cheeks you can crack nuts between—what’s there not to like?”
The fuck?
“That’s not why I like him,” Amber says so quietly I can barely make out the words.
Hell. I’m not sure whether to be glad or worried. Nervously I tug on my leather band, then reach up to rub the demon on my chest. She doesn’t like the way I look?
“Girl, you’re your own woman. You do what you like with Mr. ManCandy. But don’t come crying to me afterward, okay? Ev told you about him. He chases after everything with a vagina. Don’t let him hurt you.”
I wince, although I deserve that. Weird how I hate that Amber is hearing it. As if she didn’t know… Yeah, right, J.
Still, I step out of the bedroom, determined to stop this conversation. Not sure I want to hear what else Kayla has to say about me.
“It’s not what you think,” I hear Amber say before I take a second step. “We’re not together or anything. It was a one-night stand. It means nothing.”
My heart hammers in my chest. Bitterness rises in my throat. This is stupid, this crushing disappointment at her words. But I asked her for a chance, didn’t I? I thought I did. I thought she’d give me some time.
Guess I thought wrong.
***
“Sit down, fucker,” Zane says, pulling off his rubber gloves and nodding at Tyler, who’s waiting at the cubicle door. “Be back in a sec.”
I do as told, sitting on the stool. My head is pounding and I rub at my temples, trying to ease the discomfort. My pulse thunders in my ears, way too fast. Hasn’t slowed down since I left her apartment.
I thought if I slept with her I’d lose interest. Instead, she’s the one pushing me away. This hasn’t happened to me before. Everything’s different with this girl. I thought she wanted to be with me.
The thought of losing my chance with her burns a hole in my chest.
Maybe… maybe that’s why she asked me about being friends. Maybe that’s what she wants, unless it was a pretext to kick me out.
I hop off the stool, full of restless energy and pace back and forth.
You’re a good lay, J. Worth every penny. Now get out. You’re not good enough for anything more.
Shut up, shut up. I clap my hands over my ears. Funny how I thought those wounds had scabbed over, healed.
It shouldn’t hurt this bad. You’d think after spending my whole life being kicked around, thrown out on my ass and called names, carted from group home to group home, that I’d have a thicker skin.
But it does hurt. Because she’s not just any girl. Because… Because she means something to me.
Just stop feeling, I tell myself. Just stop. When will you learn that nobody wants you to stay?
“J. You okay, man?”
I whirl around, transported for a moment back to a back alley, looking for any weapon to protect myself with.
Tyler gives me a narrow-eyed look, leaning against the cubicle entrance, arms folded over his chest. His dark hair is cut short and looks wet.
“Zane wanted to talk to me. Where is he?” Need my smokes. I pat my pockets. Dammit, I don’t have them with me, probably dropped them at Amber’s apartment. Or during the fight with my roommates. Fuck.
“Calm down, buddy.” Tyler doesn’t move, which is a good thing, because if he as much as crowds me in right now I’ll punch his lights out. “Z-man’s on the phone, he’ll be back in a minute. Now why don’t you tell me what’s gotten your boxers in a twist?”
The scars on my arm itch and ache, and I back away a step.
Tyler’s older than the rest of us by a couple of years. He’s also the tallest of the group, and trying to calm down, like he suggested, is harder with him than with the others. He reminds me too much of the man in the alley—just like Gage, my roommate, does. Not their fault.
But dammit, I still have nightmares about it.
“J. Hey.” Tyler nods at someone outside the cubicle, then turns back to me. “Spill. What’s up?”
“Nothing’s up.” I drop back on the stool, throw my baseball cap on the counter and fold my arms over my chest, too, mirroring his stance. “Don’t you have customers waiting?”
Tyler mans the reception desk of the shop. Not many people wander inside in the mornings, but hey.
“Nice try.” He tsks. “I’m waiting.”
“Fuck off, Tyler.”
“If you can’t tell your friends, who’re you gonna tell your troubles to?”
“I don’t have friends.” I huff. “I don’t do people. And people don’t do me.”
“Bullshit.” He gives a lazy grin, like a lion who just ate the gazelle. “Maybe your definitions need some dusting. Newsflash, J: we are friends. You and me. You and Zane. You and Seth. You and Micah. Everyone here is your friend. We’d do anything for you, and deep inside, you fucking know it.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek, mulling this over.
“Now normally you don’t look like you’re about to smash Zane’s workspace to bits, which is why I’m asking you what happened. Tell me, and maybe I can help you fix it.”