“No.” That one single word vibrated with emotion.
“Maybe you want to hook back up with me?”
“Saxon, I was able to stand you for two days. That’s it. I don’t think it’s going to work.” I looked at him, and he smiled his wide, cocky smile.
“I don’t really feel like this little experiment helped get you out of my system. Maybe we need to do a little more experimenting?” His voice slipped over my ears.
“I thought about that.” I looked up into his devastatingly handsome face.
“And?” he pressed eagerly.
“And I think we’re never going to get out of each others’ systems. Being attracted to you is like having lead poisoning.”
He pulled me closer. “Your flattery kills me. So you’re blaming me for poisoning you?”
“Exactly. Once you ingest lead, it’s never gone from your system. Remember all those Roman Caesars who went crazy? Lead poisoning. Incurable.” I leaned my head on his shoulder again. My personal poison.
“So I’m in there forever.” He pressed one large, warm hand to my heart.
I moved his hand down to just over my liver. “I think you’re actually here.” Then I raised his hand to my head. “And here. And the damage is permanent.”
“So your crazy will never go away?”
“No thanks to you,” I grumbled.
“So what do we do about it?” He put his nose close to my neck and breathed in deeply.
I didn’t really know the answer to that one. “I think we just stop trying so hard. And keep ourselves open.”
“Are you going to set up rules for us?” Saxon pulled me to him again.
“Nope. Remember, you’re half wild. Rules just make you crazier.”
“So you’re just going to exist in my world and try to resist me at every turn?” His black hair was so shiny I felt like I should be able to see my reflection in it. His black eyes glinted at the new challenge.
“It’s so typical that you would think of it as your world,” I said, but I didn’t feel any particular anger at him. I was just glad that he and I could be in a room and dance without anything crazy happening.
We spent the rest of the night eating, dancing, playing a really funny game of charades, eating some more, and before we knew it, the old year was almost gone. The adults cracked into bottles of champagne and were giddy and red-cheeked. Soon the countdown was on, and we were screaming the numbers, some of us in French, some in English. Then the ball dropped and everyone cheered and screamed and music played. Mom smacked a wet, happy kiss on my lips, then moved on to kiss the cheeks of all of her coworkers. Saxon was right there once she moved away.
“Ring in the New Year with me,” he said. “Brenna.”
He pulled me close to him, his hands sliding along the silk of my dress. He pulled me into his arms and put his lips on mine. And for a moment I felt them tremble with his uncertainty. That was sexier by far than any of his aggression or cocky assuredness. If he was always like that…well, I should be glad he wasn’t, because it would just complicate everything all over again. We kissed, softly, fully. I heard him make a noise between a grunt and a moan deep in his throat.
“Brenna,” he said again, then pulled away and smiled. He looked like he wanted to say something but didn’t know if he should or not. He opened his mouth again. “Happy New Year, Blix.”
I was positive that wasn’t what he wanted to say.
I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Happy New Year, Saxon. Shall we dance?”
We danced amid the still-cheering, laughing, kissing crowds, just two screw-ups, arms entwined, moving to a music no one else seemed to hear.
Chapter Ten
New Year’s Day was another holiday, so we didn’t really have much on our schedules. The entire floor was silent, everyone sleeping in after a late New Year’s Eve, and for some, sleeping off the inevitable hangover from too much celebrating. I was the lone exception to either scenario.
France is six hours ahead of New Jersey. Which meant that at six in the morning, Jake would be ringing in his New Year. In a few short days I managed to unravel everything good between the two of us, but I had learned some things, too. I wanted…I wanted him to know. Maybe I just wanted to hear his voice. I told myself over and over that he wasn’t going to just forgive me and ask me back, but a big part of me was hoping for exactly that.
At five thirty I was up, my eyes open and staring at the white, cracked ceiling above my bed. My stomach churned noisily, a combination of my intestines processing the cheese and champagne from last night and true, fretful nerves. The worst he could do was hang up on me. I tried to tell myself that it wouldn’t be that bad if he did, but I had an awful feeling that I would be crying in a little while.
I only had a few minutes to psych myself out. I wanted to call him before the official ball drop, just in case he had plans. To kiss. Someone else.
I sternly reminded myself that that was exactly what I had done the night before. I had no reason to play the hurt innocent. He could do whatever he wanted now. We were not a couple.
Because of me.
I dialed Jake, and another, worse possibility came to mind. What if he just never picked up? I was so desperate to talk to him that I was ten times more prepared for a confrontation than just nothing.
But he did pick up.
My voice stuck hard in my throat.
“Jake?” I finally burst out.
“Brenna.” He said my name evenly, his low, deep voice so good in my ears.
“I was calling to wish you a happy New Year.” My voice wobbled.
He blew out a long breath. “So you call to dump me a few days ago, and now you’re calling to wish me a happy New Year? There are a few choice things I’d like to say to you, but I’ll stop myself.”
“Don’t,” I rushed. “I deserve it, Jake. I deserve to hear whatever it is you have to say. Tell me.”
He sighed. “There’s no point, Bren. You and I are done. What is there to say?”
“Do you, um, regret that we’re broken up?” My nerves made my tongue thick and clumsy.
“How can I regret it, Bren? It wasn’t my decision.” He sounded irritated, and his prickly tone was so unexpected, I felt my eyes well up again. I hated that he was talking to me that way. He used to choose his tone so carefully when he said something to me. “How’s Saxon?” he asked, his voice thick with accusation.
“He’s alright.” I swallowed a wave of tears. “We’re not a couple.”
“Did you really think that would work out for you?” he sneered. “I can’t believe that. I know for a fact that you’re brilliant. That’s why this whole thing is so frigging confusing.”
I grabbed on to the one little compliment, the one glimmer that he was still interested in having me in his life. Plus being confused was good. It meant he didn’t know. It meant he was thinking with a big ‘maybe’ in his mind. “I’m coming home tomorrow.”
My statement hung in the air between us.
“I hope you have a safe flight.” His voice was perfectly serious because Jake was a perfect gentleman, and he would never, ever be nasty or vindictive the way so many guys would be. “I hope you had a nice New Year’s.” His voice was so cold I almost believed he could see my kiss with Saxon. “Bren, I have to go.”
I heard a voice in the background. Distinctly feminine.
Oh no.
“Okay. Goodbye Jake.”
He paused and covered the phone while he answered whoever it was. Then he breathed into the receiver. “Have a nice morning, Brenna. Happy New Year.”
The connection was broken and my mind went racing, reading into every little thing Jake said and left unsaid. He said I was brilliant, he said he wanted me to have a safe flight and a happy New Year’s. And I know he meant those things.
But he hadn’t said that he missed me. He hadn’t said that he wanted us to get back together. He had acted a little bit like my call was annoying him.