by Ann, Jewel E
Jillian pushed the rest of her oatmeal away. “I have to shower anyway.”
“Cock tease,” AJ grumbled as the anger spread like poison though his veins.
“What did you just say?” Jillian turned.
He felt the burning heat and tumultuous chaos of rage building inside. Jillian needed to leave, yet AJ needed an outlet. He could never explain the most excruciating pain was always the personality that hijacked his brain without warning.
“Go fuck somebody else today. I’m not in the mood.” He looked up at her, his mind willing her to just leave, but the monster growling out his words beckoned her to stay and take every insult like an emotional punching bag.
Her jaw clenched. “Don’t push me, AJ.”
“Or what?” he challenged.
“Goodbye.” She walked toward the door.
“You’re all talk.” AJ couldn’t keep the words from coming out. It was like two personalities duking it out in his head. His body and everyone in its wake were nothing more than collateral damage.
Before he had a chance to think past his last breath, he was gasping for his next while he buckled over in pain. Like a quick flash of light, he saw her face, then grabbed his nose and his world went black.
An incessant sting to one cheek and then the next, over and over as a familiar voice droned on, brought him back into the light.
“Wake up, asshole.” Jillian gave each cheek one last wake-up slap.
He peeled his eyes open and Jillian’s face, directly above him, came into focus. Her soft feminine features were hardened, eyes squinted.
“Your nose isn’t broken, but it’s bleeding like a son of a bitch, so get your ass off the floor and pinch it before you stain your grout.” She tossed a dish rag on his face. He grabbed it then rolled to his side. “If I were you, I’d accept the PTSD label otherwise you’re just a prick.”
“Like you’re a fucking angel,” he grumbled while lumbering to his feet, right hand squeezing his nose.
“Not even close, but at least I acknowledge my dysfunctional behavior and recognize the cause.” She slammed the door.
Chapter Eighteen
Jillian reserved the right to hate AJ for his venomous words. However, she knew that wouldn’t happen. He couldn’t control his behavior any easier than she could control hers. He’d been verbally abusive and she’d been physically abusive. Neither were excusable. His refusal to acknowledge his PTSD left them in a complicated situation. She had a slew of questions about his past, including the demise of his marriage. However, questioning him would have been an open invitation for him to continue exploring the life of pre-Omaha Jillian, which was impossible because it didn’t exist … it couldn’t exist.
“Dahlia wants to ‘go all the way’ tonight,” Jackson announced as Jillian shoved some snacks in her bag to take to Dodge’s house.
“Dahlia?”
“Yes, the girl I’ve been seeing.”
Jillian looked up from her bag and squinted. “Sesame Street girl?”
“Yes.”
She smiled. “Well, my dear brother, my words of wisdom are to go and play, everything will be A-OK.”
“Real funny. But I’m not taking her virginity.” Jackson stretched then interlaced his fingers behind his head.
“What’s wrong? Mr. Snuffleupagus under the weather?”
“No. Her mom had a lesson today and asked me not to go and play.”
Jillian’s eyes bulged as she laughed. “Seriously? Her mom asked you to not sleep with her daughter?”
“Not directly. She just went on and on about how thrilled she is that Dahlia’s dating someone mature, and because I have a cross tattooed on my arm she just knows I’m the type of guy who respects the sacredness of waiting until ‘vows are exchanged’ before taking a woman’s ‘flower.’”
“And of course you told her the reason you got that sacred tattoo ten years ago was to convince an unsuspecting virgin that you were a man of God who would cherish her forever if she gave herself to you.”
Jackson shook his head. “You and your bullshit story. That’s not what happened and you know it. I was going to get another tattoo anyway, and she wanted to watch. She told me if I let her pick out the tattoo, she’d have sex with me. I’d been eyeing the cross anyway. I wouldn’t permanently mark myself just for some chick.”
“You’re pathetic.”
He leaned against the counter, crossing his hands over his chest as Jillian stared at the cross. “I’ll admit, that Jude guy had a way with the ladies.” He pursed his lips like the cocky bastard he was.
“Male whore … he was a male whore. So why the loyalty to Dahlia’s mom? I’m sure her daughter won’t tell her mom if you two have sex. It’s not like she’s underage.”
Jackson shrugged and Jillian gave him a wrinkled face filled with distrust before leaving for Dodge’s.
“It’s the mom.” She turned before closing the door, having an ah-ha moment.
“What?”
“You like the mom … not the daughter. You won’t sleep with both because you’ve never been the Benjamin Braddock type. And you like older women; rarely do you go for the young twenty-somethings. I’m right.”
“You’re not.” Jackson firmed his jaw to contain his grin.
“I’m soooo right.” Jillian winked and shut the door.
The knowing smile on her face faded as she passed AJ’s house. In less than twenty four hours they’d fought twice and had sex three times. Whatever was between them was virulent, but too addictive to ignore. She needed him to remind her to not let her guard down and that was what earned him a bloodied nose. Any other guy would have filed a restraining order, but not AJ. Everything he did was a silent plea for more. More, that only Jillian could hear and only Jillian could give.
“Where’s your Harley?” Dodge asked when he opened the door for her.
“Taking a nap, getting rested up for when I ride it hard later this evening.” She grinned.
Dodge made several sounds but none of them formed into decipherable words.
“I’m relentless like that.” Jillian elbowed his arm as she made her way inside. Lilith’s smile came to life when she spotted Jillian. “Hi, Lilith. Did you eat?”
“Leftover steak from last night, but she’s been bugging me to warm up the leftover apple pie Stan’s wife made for her.” Dodge grumbled out the last few words.
“You don’t get any?”
“Stan’s wife, Lynette, said I need to lose some weight or Lilith’s going to outlive me. And it will be a cold day in hell before I drop dead first. She’d sell my golf cart to some schmuck that actually plays golf!”
Lilith smiled at Jillian.
“How do you communicate with her?”
Dodge shook his head. “Fist pumps, flying middle fingers, eye rolls, and scowls.”
Jillian rolled her eyes. “I’ll get her some pie. Maybe she’ll share with me. It sounds better than the banana and granola bar I packed.”
Dodge grabbed his raincoat. “That’s a given. She likes you … and she hasn’t even seen you get the mail.” Dodge wiggled his brows and snickered as he slipped out the back door.
“Dirty old man,” Jillian murmured.
Lilith savored every last crumb of the warm apple pie, and Jillian found herself tempted to lick her plate too. Stan’s wife may not have made a lot of sweet treats for him, but her apple pie was a true slice of heaven. Jillian handed Lilith her book and took their plates to the kitchen.
“I had sex with Sarge yesterday, then I nearly broke his nose today. Luke would be so disappointed in me.” She kept her back to Lilith so she couldn’t see the tears that filled Jillian’s eyes.
“I don’t even know who I am anymore. I’m not the sappy lovesick heroine that says a man ‘completes’ her, but I was the best possible version of myself with Luke. Everything I feared before him just … vanished. I felt like a leaf falling from a tree and he was the wind whispering, I’ve got you. I’m here for my brother. I woul
d have stayed … I would have died. It’s like the thrill seeker who goes full throttle all the time, never fearing death because eight seconds of that rush is worth more than eighty years of boring monotony. Luke was my eight seconds.”
*
Day
Kelly was the closest friend Jessica had made since Four stole everything. However, Kelly knew nothing of that time in Jessica’s life, nor her unconventional relationship with Dr. Luke Jones. In spite of the tragedy in Jessica’s life, she never lost her sense of humor. Once she found out Kelly and Gabe were “cheating on her” by training part-time with Luke, Jessica decided to see just how uncomfortable she could make her dear friend.
Kelly: Biking with Gabe tonight. Are we still running in the morning?
Jessica bubbled with orneriness as she read Kelly’s text.
Jessica: Yes. Mind if I ride with you two tonight?
It took Kelly much longer to text back than usual.
Kelly: Gabe invited a friend to go with us.
Jessica: Great! The more the merrier! Meeting at your usual spot?
Kelly: Ugh! This is so awkward. We totally want you to come too, but the “friend” is actually Luke.
Jessica: What?!!!
Kelly: Sorry, hun. I know you two didn’t hit it off, but he’s still Gabe’s friend.
Jessica: I see … Well I still need to bike so Dr. Stuffy Pants is just going to have to deal with me coming along too!
Kelly: O-kay … BTW please don’t call him that when we’re all together. I really like Gabe and if our two best friends can’t get along then it’s not going to be easy on us.
Jessica giggled to herself.
Jessica: I’ll be on my best behavior. I won’t even bite him this time ; )
Kelly: OMG! Wasn’t that crazy! I can’t believe he said that. Like you would ever bite someone.
It was crazy, considering Jillian kept her blood drawing technique to fingernails only with anyone Kelly fixed her up with. Biting was crazy to most normal guys, and they wouldn’t hesitate to call her out on it to everyone who would listen, but breaking the skin was not something that made the gossip loop. Most guys simply refused to endure the pain and the lasting marks, so those one-night stands ended with irreconcilable differences.
The devil pulled at the corners of Jessica’s lips as she ended the conversation and got ready for an evening bike ride with “friends.” She was the last to arrive which was unfortunate. Jessica wanted to see the look on Luke’s face when he found out she’d be joining them. Instead, her obsessive primping at the last minute made her a little too late for the surprise.
“Hey, Jess. You remember Luke.” Gabe scrunched his nose like she was a grenade and someone just pulled the pin.
Jessica’s brain sighed as she let her eyes drink in the vision of Dr. Luke Jones in his biking attire that hugged every line of his fit, lean body. She was still in a miserable dry spell and needed sex more than food by that point.
“Jessica.” Luke nodded with a polite smile as he fastened his helmet.
“Jones.” She smiled with a wink of mischief.
“Call me Luke.” His brow tensed a fraction, but only enough for Jessica to notice.
She shoved her two bottles of water in their holders. “Nah … I’ll stick with Jones.”
“So … shall we?” Kelly faked a smile that didn’t hide her eagerness to get going and end the awkward reunion between Jessica and Jones.
Gabe followed Kelly and Luke gestured for Jessica to go.
“After you, Jones. I want to look at your fine ass. It’s the best part of your personality. Besides, you’d never keep up with me, so I’ll let you set the pace.”
“You’re contumacious.” Luke pushed off on his bike.
“Whatever the hell that means,” she mumbled just loud enough for Luke to hear.
“Stubbornly disobedient.”
Jessica scowled at just how well Luke was playing the part.
“Catch me if you can.” He looked back and smiled. It was playful, flirty, and the sexiest look Jessica had ever seen.
“Hey! Where are you two going?” Kelly called as Luke buzzed past her and Gabe with Jessica closing in on him.
“See ya at the finish!” Jessica yelled.
“It’s not a race!” Kelly’s voice faded in the distance.
Jessica drafted behind Luke for miles. Aside from Jude, no one had ever physically pushed her so hard. The pace was intense … insane. They passed so many other cyclists Jessica lost count, all she knew was it felt like the final stretch of a major race and she would not come in second.
“Ready to have your ass handed to you by a girl, Jones?” Jessica hollered as she moved left to pass him.
“Wait!” he yelled, but it morphed into nothing more than a fading echo.
Jessica didn’t wait for anyone, but she should have. It happened in less than a breath. His voice, her name, stabs of pain, blurred scenery, then black.
She woke to his voice and flashes of red light.
“Don’t try to move, Jessica.”
“L-Luke?”
“Yes. I’m here.”
The earth beneath her shook and then she realized it was the bounce of the gurney surrounded by strange faces.
“What’s wrong with my neck?” She tried to reach for her neck but a pain shot up her arm. “Ahh!”
“You fell off your bike. We’re taking you to the hospital. Your neck’s probably fine. It’s just a precaution,” one of the paramedics reassured her.
“Kelly—”
“They’ll meet us there.” Luke climbed into the back of the ambulance with Jessica.
“What happened?” her voice slurred.
“The pothole was big and you were contumacious.” Luke simpered and in spite of the pain, Jessica smiled.
“Contumacious?” the paramedic questioned.
“He’s an … o-overeducated idiot.” Jessica let her eyes close.
*
The emergency room visit lasted two hours, then turned into an overnight stay for observation. Jessica dodged any major injuries, receiving only stitches in her arm and some sexy road rash along her legs and her other arm, but by some miracle nothing was broken—except her pride.
“I don’t have phone numbers for anyone in your family.” Kelly rubbed Jessica’s hand.
“My parents are out of the country for their anniversary and Jude is at a conference. No need to call anyone and worry them.”
“I’ll stay with you.”
Jessica shook her head with an appreciative smile. “No need. I’m a big girl. Besides, they’re sending me home tomorrow.”
“I do need a shower.” Kelly pinched the front of her shirt, pulling it to her nose. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”
“Positive.”
“Call me if you need a ride when they release you tomorrow. I can take off work.”
“Thanks, Kelly.”
“Get some rest, showoff.”
Jessica rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t showing off … I just wasn’t going to let a guy show me up.”
“I still don’t understand why you two didn’t hit it off. You’re perfect for each other.”
“Good night, Kelly.”
Kelly grinned. “Night, Jess.”
Jessica leaned her head back against the pillow and closed her eyes. The medication they gave her began to numb the pain and slow her thoughts. The soft echo of Luke’s voice lulled her to sleep. Yes, I’m here.
A dull ache clenched Jessica’s body when she woke early the next morning, the physical impact of her accident magnified without the influence of pain medication. The gentle light of the distant horizon welcoming the morning sun illuminated the room. As everything came into focus she noticed the sleeping body in the chair next to her hospital bed. Luke.
He was still wearing his biking attire. Jessica’s heart swelled in her chest. Luke stayed all night with her, without her asking, without her knowing.
“Shit!” she whispered, trying t
o sit up.
Luke’s eyes fluttered open and he startled a bit as she grimaced trying to reposition. “Let me.” He jumped to his feet and adjusted her pillow to support her back. “Good morning.” He smiled, his face inches from hers for a brief moment.
“You stayed.”
Luke sat back down. He nodded, scratching the back of his neck. Then he smoothed his hand over his ruffled hair. She had never seen Dr. Jones look in such disarray. She liked it … a lot.
“I stayed.”
“Don’t you have patients today?”
“Eve rescheduled my day.”
Unwanted emotions crowded in Jessica’s chest then constricted in her throat. “You rescheduled your day?”
“Yes.”
“For me?” she whispered, rubbing her dry lips together.
“For you.”
“Why?”
He sighed. “I feel responsible.”
She shook her head. “Oh God! I’ve mastered the ability to push your pity buttons. That’s just great. Please, go to work. My body has taken bigger hits than yesterday’s incident. You didn’t put the pothole in the road. It’s not your fault.” She made a shooing gesture toward the door. “Go, I hereby absolve you of all responsibility.”
“All?” Luke raised his brows.
“No, not all. I’ll see you tomorrow. I gave you three months of my soul and then you tried to dump me. So for that you are not absolved.”
“First, it is ‘tomorrow,’ second, I have yet to see your soul, and third, I didn’t dump you.”
The soul comment stung a bit. She couldn’t blame him. It was possible she no longer had a soul to be seen. “I must look like a sewer rat.”
“What?”
Jessica blew a stray hair from her face. “Me. I need a shower…” she whipped the sheet off her legs, exposing the mottling of road rash “…and then there’s the ugly that won’t disappear any time soon. But you’ve never looked better. You probably need a shower, but I swear to God I can still smell that soap or cologne of yours, and your hair has escaped the confines of its normal gel coating and it’s giving me inappropriate thoughts. I go from visually tolerable to offensive and you go from GQ to Sports Illustrated.”
“Jessica, you look fine.”
