I would have her again. And then I’d leave her without explanation or warning, just like she’d done to me.
I swore I would do it and I went to bed ignoring the thought that I wondered if I actually could.
Knight of Cups: This card often appears as arrival of someone with an interesting invitation which will result in an emotional experience that will bring high energy and lift you to an exhilarating state.
I FELT LIKE MY LIFE right now should be set to the theme song of ‘Friends’ because it hadn’t been my day, my week, questionably my month, and arguably my year. The Temperance card had been re-taped to the bathroom mirror upstairs and I felt like it probably should have been taped to my forehead the way I needed its meaning as a reminder.
I shivered as I walked out of the drug store. I ran over there on lunch because I needed some essentials for the house—essentials that I owned, but could not, in fact, get to because my landlord, Mr. Evans, was an incompetent ass.
Note: frustration (both sexual and otherwise) was severely affecting my mood.
To add a cherry on top of the fact that I was now living with my ex, I left early the morning after that night to go move the rest of my stuff from my old apartment. Yeah, wasn’t happening. The entire building was completely closed off and looked like it was about to be fumigated or something along those lines. No warning. No notice. No ‘hey, maybe you should get your shit out first.’ And no answer when I called him.
A few minutes of furious frustration led me to call the company whose name and number was plastered all over the contraption that covered parts of the building. They informed me that it wouldn’t be until next weekend when I would have access to the apartment that I still hadn’t been refunded last month’s rent for.
Working with Chance for an hour every day had been taxing—draining, even. Living with him… was completely overwhelming. Every look, a silent reminder of having his dick in my mouth. Every smirk hinting that he knew his was the face… the body… the cock… I thought of at night as my fingers rubbed furiously over my clit trying to ease the unbearable ache that his nearness built up during the day. Oh, he made comments to that effect too, comments that had me wearing underwear again every day even though I sarcastically denied each and every one of his assertions. His expressions, though, called me a liar.
And that was just when he was there. When he wasn’t, my eyes were always looking for him when I got home and when I woke up. I moved around the house so quietly because I wanted to hear him—to know when he was coming, or wondering what he was doing downstairs. I must have lit ten different candles over the past few days but none of them could get rid of his scent—pine with a little bit of sweat and a whole lotta sex.
Fine—I was exaggerating for effect. But only a little.
Most of the nights when I got home from work, Chance wasn’t there. I assumed he was with Nick because it was better than assuming he was with Monroe—or some other female.
That was one good thing, after my complete lack of self-control the night we realized we were roommates, his switch had flipped to ignoring Monroe at the gym—a feat considering that she probably pulled a muscle for how hard she was throwing herself at him.
“Now look who’s late.” I froze mid-step, having just walked into the gym for my afternoon—for Chance’s—appointment, and turned my head slowly to see that very man leaning against the wall on my left. Immediately I clicked on my iPad to check the time. It was two minutes after one—but of course he would call me out on it.
“Sorry,” I grumbled. “I had to run to the drug store.”
“For what?” he asked, casually walking over to me. He liked to do this, too—watch me as I watched him; and I couldn’t help myself the way I watched him.
He was like a drug. And tasting him that one night put me right back on a crash course for addiction. Now, every time he moved a muscle, my mouth wanted to lick it. I wanted to feel him move under my mouth, against my skin, and most maddeningly, inside of me. And he knew it. That’s why he didn’t push. He kept his hands to himself because he was waiting for me to break and come crawling to him. But I wouldn’t.
If he was proud, then I was stubborn as hell.
“Shampoo and conditioner. I can’t get the rest of my stuff from my apartment until this coming weekend.” I’ve come to realize that refusing to answer certain questions is not worth the provocation. “We’ll start on the mats today.”
He nodded, walking in front of me so that I had a wonderful view of his ass. My fingers dug into the edges of the iPad, wishing they were somewhere else.
“You’re always welcome to use my shower, J-bird.” He grinned.
“Thanks for the offer, but I have a feeling that your shower comes with a few more inhabitants than shampoo and conditioner,” I retorted smartly, looking down at my iPad so that I could swallow down the delicious thought of showering with him.
He laughed—a sound that immediately drew my gaze. We hadn’t had any sort of serious discussion in the last few days—mostly because he really had been getting home late and any other time we were around each other, we never seemed to make it past the sexual banter, our mutual desire suffocating out every other thought. His laughter though had become more prevalent. It wasn’t the angry laughs that were sugared with vengeance like they had been the first week or so. No, this was real laughter and it was what gave me hope that he was finally loosening his death-grip on punishing everyone and everything around him—including himself—for what had happened.
“I promise that you will leave very, very clean. Every inch of you. Inside and out.” He said the words like he’d just answered me about the weather forecast for the weekend.
Current forecast: One-hundred percent chance that it was raining in my horribly annoying panties.
“Thanks for the offer.” My voice now sounded like the words had been run against the sandpaper of desire—a successful grin lighting his face. And this was exactly the types of conversations that had been happening at basically every turn. Now, it was Friday and Friday meant that I would have an entire weekend of this.
I wasn’t sure that I was going to make it.
“You still using blue shampoo?” he asked, shocking me for the umpteenth time in the last—eight—minutes.
He remembered that? About my blue shampoo?
I tried to wiggle the corners of my mouth up into some sort of expression of nonchalance, but I don’t think it really worked. “Not blue anymore.” My eyes flicked up to my hair. “Pink.”
“Right.” He nodded. I was almost tempted to ask if he remembered the name of it, just to satisfy myself into believing that he hadn’t cared that much about me. But, I didn’t because my gut told me that he knew exactly what it was called.
“L-let’s move over to the calf machines.” I moved back to the professional conversation that should have been going on. Only, as he stood, I could see that our little shower conversation had a similar effect on him—his cock hanging long and heavily against the front of his shorts. Not full-blown erection, but for anyone who was looking—like me—there was no doubt where his mind had been.
I stepped back to let him walk by me and he bent his head as he passed saying, “Want another taste, J-bird?”
Heat bloomed in my cheeks and my eyes immediately scanned the room to see if anyone noticed how close he was to me right now, or how hard he was, or how hot I was. Only one set of eyes, and I didn’t care what she thought.
“I’ll pass again,” I said even though the breathlessness that invaded every word suggested otherwise, “but, it looks like your little friend would be happy to oblige you.”
I couldn’t help myself from alluding to Monroe. Maybe because I knew that she was watching. Or maybe because I knew that she wanted to suck his dick just as much as I did and I wanted to hear him say that he didn’t want her.
He raised an eyebrow, glancing behind my head to where I knew she was still watching us. “Monroe?” he snickered and I tried not t
o smile. “Maybe Frost can teach her a thing or two.” He bent down right next to my ear and my breath caught. I should push him away because he’s too close, but I wanted to know what more he was going to say. I wanted to hear words that would soothe the jealousy that I shouldn’t be feeling. “But from my experience, she wouldn’t know her way around a cock if she put that shit into Google Maps.”
I blinked twice and then I broke out into laughter. He’d already started to walk away, but turned and looked back at me—like the rest of the people in the gym—as I began to laugh uncontrollably. It was funny. Ok, maybe not that funny. But it released the tension between us and cooled down the sting of jealousy that I’d felt—and that release came out as such hysterical laughter that I finally had to hold my iPad up in front of my face to try to restrain it.
“I was going to pick up some Italian food for dinner tonight,” he began as he hopped off the last machine I had him on for his session. “Do you want some?”
“I probably shouldn’t, but sure.” I loved carbs far too much. “Whatever you think is good and then just let me know and I’ll give you the money for it.”
I started, realizing that he was standing right in front of me.
“You’re not paying for anything,” he said firmly.
“Why not? It’s not like this is a date or something…” Very bad parts of me begged for him to disagree.
“Because I said so,” he replied hoarsely, his head coming closer to mine.
I thought about arguing. I even opened my mouth to argue, but he was too close and it made my mind foggy. He also would make more of a scene if I continued to refuse. And it was just dinner, what was the big deal?
“Ok, fine,” I squeaked. “Thanks.”
He immediately stepped away and let oxygen back into the room which I gulped down in obnoxious quantities.
“See you at home, J-bird!” I could practically hear the smirk in his voice. Meanwhile, I clicked on the iPad even though I knew exactly what time it was and began the mental countdown until it was time to leave.
“Do you want the rest of my garlic bread?”
My eyes flicked up to his. He was smiling and I knew I’d been caught eyeing the crisped crust that he’d left on his plate.
“If you don’t want it.” It was a good thing that Chance already knew that I liked to eat—otherwise the piece of chicken parmesan, two huge spoonfuls of baked ziti, and three slices of garlic bread would have definitely given it away.
“All yours, J-bird.” He handed it to me and I dug in just as he asked, “So, how was Texas?”
And this was what the delicious garlicky goodness was costing me.
I’d walked inside earlier to see Chance unpacking the food onto our plates—again just wearing those sweatpants from the other night and missing his shirt; my mouth watered before I even had a chance to see or smell the food.
After he greeted me, I’d had to force my gaze away which allowed me to realize that he’d even set the table—nothing fancy by any means, but something more than my assumption that we’d be eating at the kitchen counter, tip-toeing along the line between fighting and fucking.
“Good. Hot.”
He laughed. “Really? That’s all you have to say?”
“It was good to be back… and close to family.” I swallowed the last bite. “College was kind of a rough time for me especially in the beginning, so it was good to have that support system there.”
“How are your brothers?”
I smiled. I had two twin brothers—Mick and Miles. Well, not my biological brothers, but I rarely made that distinction for people. Before me, my parents tried for years to have kids but with no luck. After numerous miscarriages, they’d decided to stop trying and foster children. Just months before my mom realized she was pregnant with me, they’d decided to adopt a set of twin boys who were only five at the time and had lost both of their parents.
I cringed at the barebones details of their story that my mom had later told me. M and M (my nickname for the two of them) had been in the car at the time their birth mom tried to drive their dad to the hospital because he had overdosed on cocaine. Unfortunately, she was also high and ended up getting into an accident and not surviving. Thankfully, the boys had been ok—old enough to realize that their parents had died in a car accident, but young enough to not realize why the accident had occurred. My parents had taken them in and hadn’t been able to let them go.
To me, they would always be two overprotective terrors and two-hundred-percent trouble. The truth was that they were older and they were protective, but they weren’t overbearing. Because of the age difference, we weren’t that close growing up before I was living up here for high school. When I moved back to Texas though, they’d come in handy a few times while I was at college and we’d grown closer, to the point where if they knew that I was living with Chance, they’d probably fly up to have a few choice words with him.
“They are good,” I answered. “They have their own masonry and construction business now, but I think they want to get out of Texas. I think they want to head farther west.”
“I could see that.” He nodded. “How old are they now?”
I had to think for a minute. “Thirty-one.”
He nodded. “Was college everything that you hoped for?”
“It was good. So many more people than high school which was a change, but I made a lot of friends. There were a few more people there who shared my voodoo-hippie interests.” I grinned.
“I’m sure it was a lot more fun without a boyfriend tagging along.”
I reached for my bottle of La Croix that he’d gotten out for me and took a sip to hide my discomfort.
“That’s not what I went there for.” And not the reason I left you.
Like a geyser, the need to blurt out the truth of what happened that night bubbled up inside of me about to erupt. I opened my mouth about to say something—to start somewhere—but then he asked, “You want a drink?”
I looked down at my empty plate, swallowing the words that were in my mouth.
“Sure,” I answered weakly.
He picked up the plates and walked into the kitchen, rinsing them in the sink and putting them in the dishwasher.
“Still reading your cards?” He continued his calm interrogation as he reached under the counter and pulled out a bottle of gin. I sat mesmerized for a moment, watching him muddle some blueberries into the bottom of each glass before pouring in a healthy amount of the gin.
Note to self: Drink slowly.
“Sometimes.” I rested my elbow over the edge of the chair and my chin on my arm. I’d only just begun learning when we’d been together. I hadn’t felt confident enough to read him at that point.
“Still too afraid to read me?” he teased. I raised an eyebrow. I’d never offered to read him because I wasn’t comfortable with my skills—but he’d never asked either.
“Do you want me to?” My heart thumped heavily in surprise.
“I might be curious.” He opened the fridge and pulled out some tonic water, pouring it into the cups.
“Well then, I might consider it,” I returned.
He chuckled, bringing the drinks back over to the table.
Taking the glass from his hand, it was my turn to ask questions. “Have you talked to your sister?”
“Which one?” He took a sip, his lips thinning as he swallowed.
“The one who wants you to work with her.” The burning fizz of the gin and tonic bubbled down my throat, followed by the subtle sweetness of the fruit.
“No.” His stare on me hardened, but I wasn’t going to let it go.
“I just don’t understand.” I sighed, taking another large sip far too soon after the first one. Fine. I had plenty more questions that I wanted to know about. He’d asked about my past, now I wanted to know about his. “So, where did you go? All those months after your accident?”
When I looked up, his gaze was out the back sliding-door. The sun had set so there
really wasn’t much to look at—just darkness.
“What? Is something out there?”
“Yeah.”
My pulse jumped. “Wait, what? What’s out there? What did you see?” I asked frantically.
He looked back to me with a smile. I should have known we’d gone for too long without something to alleviate the tension between us.
“A hot tub.”
“No,” I replied immediately. “I’m good.”
“You sure about that?” His eyes roamed down my body, making me want to feel better. “We always have a good time in the hot tub, Jessa.”
“Which is exactly why I’m going to have to say no.” At least until I figured out a way to dissociate my heart from my body.
“Get in the hot tub with me,” he pressed, eyes darkening to the blue of the sky just before the sun completely sets, “and I’ll answer any question that you want.”
My mouth dropped. “Are you really bribing me right now? What if I don’t want to know that badly?”
“Too bad I know that you do.” He smirked and drained the rest of his glass.
I continued to stare at him, raising my glass in response and gulping down the liquid. I knew what this meant for me, as much as I was going to try to deny it—to resist it. I did want to know that badly. More than that, he needed to talk about it and I selfishly wanted him to talk about it to me. He kept burying his past down deeper and deeper, ignoring the bad that had happened while at the same time letting his anger about it overrun him. He needed to open up. But was I willing to sacrifice myself to make that happen?
Even though my mind was fighting it, my body was willing to make the sacrifice.
There was a decision to be made—knowing what the consequences would be. There was a poll going on inside of me: Choose Chance or Choose Caution—and my body and my mind were each weighing in on opposite sides.
Only later would I realize that my heart had stuffed the darn ballot box with the answer: ‘Chance, please!’
Enjoy the Ride (Winter Games Book 3) Page 16
