by Nancy Bush
The front bell tinkled, announcing a newcomer. Trini looked over as a matter of course and then froze as she recognized Jarrett Sellers.
He looked around, spotted her, and eased over to the bar, leaning his elbows on the polished surface. “Hey there,” he said.
“I’m not going to believe you just happened to walk in here.”
He hung his head like a bad boy. “Okay, I followed you.”
“Why?”
He lifted his head and said to the bartender, “Jack and Coke.” Then he turned back to Trini and said, “I was driving by your place and saw you walking down the street. When I saw you turn into the bar, I decided to join you.”
“Why were you driving by my place?”
“I kind of thought we left on bad terms at Lacey’s.” He waited a moment, and when she didn’t respond, he said, “Okay, you’re going to make me say it? I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to see you.”
Trini relaxed a little. “No, you don’t. We’re no good for each other, Jarrett. We can’t even be friends.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is true.”
“This is what I like about you, Trini. You always keep everything hidden. Always play coy. Never speak your mind.”
She smiled in spite of herself. At least he was pulling her out of her bad mood. “Okay, maybe we can be very distant friends, but that’s as far as it goes.”
Jarrett’s drink came and Trini sucked down her mojito and ordered another. He had a second as well, but when the bartender offered her a third, she declined.
“I’ve got dinner made at home,” she said, getting to her feet. She tried to pay, but Jarrett wouldn’t let her.
“Is that an invitation?”
“No. God, you’re pushy.” She squinted at him. Jarrett had a nice smile. She’d forgotten that. Why, she wondered, had it not worked with him? Apart from the fact that they really couldn’t get along.
She thought back to their last meeting at Lacey’s. She’d been in a kind of altered state at the time, sick at heart over how things were going with Bobby, and Jarrett had asked all those questions and she’d just wanted him to go away. He’d damn near ruined her game, and all she could think about was Bobby . . . Bobby . . . though that wasn’t his real name. And the bad hair and glasses? A fake. She’d fallen for it at first, before she’d really cared. He’d been a novelty and she’d been amused. But then he’d become a crush and now . . . now he was a drug she couldn’t live without.
But she wanted the deception to be over now. No more games. Since they’d been back together she’d tried to get him to come clean about the disguise, but he’d pretended not to know what she was talking about. And then he’d also been so distracted, and really, all she wanted was for him to screw her brains out, and he’d done that beautifully.
But he’d left her tonight . . . and here was Jarrett.
“. . . one more for the road?” he asked.
“Okay, sure.”
Why not? she figured.
When he brought her the drink, its green contents glowing beneath the lights above her head. She sank back down on the stool. She wished she wanted to be with Jarrett. She almost begged herself to give him a second chance. She needed to get over Bobby and stop being such a rat woman, but all she wanted was to have him in her bed. The true definition of a rat woman.
You’ve got it bad, girl. Really, really bad.
She drank down half her drink, then asked, “Do you ever wish you didn’t have a conscience? That you could do whatever you want and damn the torpedoes? No consequences. Just live your life any way you want.”
“Yes,” Jarrett said.
Trini gave him a long look. She remembered making love with him. It had been good for a while, but then they’d started fighting, and they just couldn’t stand each other as time wore on.
“I want to go home with you,” he said in a husky voice.
She laughed. She couldn’t help it. All she could think about was Bobby . . . inside her . . . breathing hard . . . pounding into her. The thought shot a jolt of desire up her vagina to her core. Damn, it felt good. “You can come over and have dinner,” she said, “but that’s all.” She reached in her purse, but he said, “I’ve got this.”
Actually, she’d been about to pull out her phone, intending to text Bobby to tell him she was busy. But then she recalled the last time she’d texted. She’d been a little pissed ’cause he’d been late then, too. It had made her climb the walls, like an addict needing a fix. He’d done it on purpose, she was sure. Later, he’d told her that something had come up and reminded her not to text him. She’d accused him of having a secret wife or something. A big hardy har har that had her chuckling but made him go coldly silent. For a moment she’d worried that truly was his secret, but he’d responded with a warning he’d given her once before: “I’ll text. You respond.”
Caveman stuff. Nothing she could normally stand.
“Why?” she muttered to herself. Why do you put up with this shit?
“We’re good,” Jarrett told the bartender as he threw some bills down on the counter. The bartender thanked him for the tip, then Jarrett put his hand at her elbow and steered her toward the door.
“This isn’t going to work,” she told him as they walked up the street. A blast of surprisingly cold wind, more suitable for December than October, hit them, and Trini huddled close to Jarrett to keep warm. He put his arm around her until she was snuggled against his chest.
“Don’t be such a pessimist.”
“It didn’t work before; it’s not going to now.”
“All I’m trying to do is get a free meal.”
“Bullshit. And I’m not going to sleep with you.”
“What did you make for dinner?”
They were at the steps to her apartment and she stumbled on the first one. Jarrett caught her arm and she pulled it away, smiling at him from several steps up. “It’s vegan. You’ll love it.”
“Blech.”
“I lead a healthy lifestyle. I really do. I wouldn’t drink, but I can’t help it. My man drives me to it.”
That caught him up. “Your man?”
“My man,” she repeated with a nod.
They entered her apartment and she flipped on the lights. She saw the two plates set at the table and a wave of misery welled up from her gut. Oh Bobby. And then there was anger. Fury. Maybe she would sleep with Jarrett.
“Is this the guy Andi told me about?” Jarrett asked. He perched on the wooden arm of her couch as Trini put the enchiladas onto plates and zapped the first one in the microwave.
“Yep.”
“So, he drives you to drink. That’s why you’re not with him tonight?”
“Right again.”
“Is it wrong of me to hope it doesn’t work out?”
She wagged her finger at him. Another mojito or two and she wouldn’t care so much, but she did care. Why? God knew.
“Here.” She pulled out the heated plate and slid it across the black granite counter that showed every freaking mark. She grabbed up a fork, a knife, and a napkin, and Jarrett seated himself at the kitchen bar.
“This is good,” he said after a moment, a touch of surprise in his voice.
“I know. I have skills now.” Jarrett smiled at her in that way that used to melt her heart. “Don’t say it,” she said.
“What? I’m just eating.”
“You were going to tell me how wonderful I am. I saw it on your face.”
“You’re an egotist.”
“Uh-uh. I just know you.” She’d heated up a second plate and the microwave dinged, but she didn’t jump to answer the call.
“Your food’s ready,” Jarrett observed, pointing his fork at the microwave.
“I’m going to be honest with you, Jarrett. I was stood up tonight and I’m pissed. So that’s why we’re here, because I feel low and you’re making me feel better. But you have to leave after you finish eating, and then I’m probably going straight
to bed . . . alone.”
He bent his head to his meal and didn’t say anything until he was finished. Trini had lost her appetite completely. She just felt sad.
Jarrett had taken off his coat and put it on the back of one of her kitchen barstools, but now he swept it up and put it on. “Thank you,” he said seriously.
“You’re welcome.”
“If I came by again, would you see me, just as a friend?”
“I don’t think it works that way for us, but yes. I’ll give it a try.”
She walked him to the door and he hesitated, his hand on the knob. “I just miss hanging out with you,” he said.
Music to her ears . . . someone who actually liked her. But it wasn’t enough. Not the way she was feeling.
He stepped onto the landing outside her door. “Good night,” she told him.
“A kiss good-bye,” he said.
“No.” She half laughed. “Just go!”
He reluctantly moved to the stairs. “I’ll be back.”
She shook her head and closed the door. She returned to the microwave, wondering if she should try heating her enchiladas again, but she still didn’t have an appetite. God, Bobby. What you’ve done to me!
That was when she saw Jarrett’s wallet sitting on the couch. Swooping it up, she headed for her door. He wouldn’t have left it there on purpose, would he? Geez, Trini, you are an egotist!
She opened her door and stepped onto the landing and was inhaling to take a breath and yell after him when something slammed her against the wall and she damn near saw stars.
“Who the fuck was that?” Bobby snarled.
She opened her eyes. “Bobby,” she said, filled with relief. “Ow. You hurt me.”
“Sorry.” His voice was terse. He pulled back from her and stood tensely, his hands tucked in the pockets of a black leather jacket that looked great on him. His body was so taut. You didn’t notice at first. He didn’t emphasize his physique, but the man was all rock-hard muscles under this nerd exterior. She loved it.
“I forgive you, but man, my head hurts. That was Jarrett Sellers. He’s the brother of my friend Andi, who you’re meeting tomorrow.”
“What was he doing here? He asked you to kiss him.”
“Actually, I was showing him to the door. We used to date, but it was a long time ago. I wanted to give him this.” She held out the wallet.
“He looked like he wanted to jump you.”
She smiled. It warmed her heart that he sounded a teensy bit jealous. Her gaze roamed over all of him and she saw he had an erection.
“Yeah, look what you did to me,” he said, his voice softening.
She suddenly wanted to stroke his cock and throw him down on the walkway by the stairs that led to her unit. She wanted the whole world to know he was hers. And if that meant getting arrested for making love in public, well, she’d happily go to jail. She knew it was crazy, but it was wonderful! She couldn’t get enough of him.
He seemed to sense she was about to hug him and swarm her body over his because he sidestepped. She was immediately hurt, but then he plucked the wallet from her, grabbed her hand, and said in a rough voice, “Let’s get inside before I freeze my nuts off.”
“It’s not that cold.” She turned back to the door, which had closed behind her. Suddenly he was behind her, pushing against her butt, one hand slipping to the front of her jeans and jamming down inside. “Bobby,” she whispered, half scandalized, half thrilled.
“Missed you,” he growled, rubbing between her legs. It was a little hard, a little painful, but she didn’t want to complain.
“God, I want to do it right here,” she said, reaching to unbutton her pants and give him better access. “Right on the landing.”
He laughed silently in her ear. “It is that cold. But you’re hot. I’m gonna fuck you crazy.”
“I already am crazy. This is crazy.”
“Get in there.”
They practically fell through the door, and as soon as they crossed the threshold he tossed the wallet onto the console table, kicked the door shut, and pushed her toward the couch. His forcefulness stole her breath. Then he literally threw her on the couch and jumped on her, ripping at her clothes so hard that she protested faintly. She’d paid a lot for this blouse and he was ruining it.
“I’ll buy you a new one,” he said. “This one’s mine.”
“Bobby . . .”
He slammed a hand down on her mouth. “Don’t say anything. Don’t fucking say anything.”
She nodded mutely. She knew when she talked too much it ruined it for him. “I’m sorry,” she said around his fingers.
“And don’t fucking apologize!”
He slid a condom on his rock-hard cock and she ran a hand over the rubbery outside, wishing she could feel his flesh. She’d told him over and over that she was on the Pill, that he didn’t need one, but he’d been burned once by some gal who’d sworn she was taking birth control pills, then oops, she had a pregnancy scare that luckily had turned out to be false.
Now, he swept her hand away and rubbed the tip of the condom between her legs, seeking entry. She was shifting to accommodate him when he slammed into her, hard. Luckily, she was ready for him or he could have ripped something. Then he started pounding away like a battering ram, his breathing rapid and hot in her ear. She tried not to tense up. The first time was always like this, just for him. But the crown of her head began hitting painfully against the wooden arm of the couch, again and again. She tried to slow him down a little, wanted him to recognize that he was hurting her, but he was on a mission for his own pleasure and wasn’t interested in any of her signals. In the end she just went with it. The second time was always better than the first because that was when he gave her a chance to reach an orgasm. Not that she wasn’t crazy wet for him all the time, but when he was so brutal . . . no, that wasn’t the right word . . . when he was so focused, it was kind of difficult for her to actually enjoy herself to the limit.
Then it was over. She felt him exhale, replete, and she wrapped her arms around him tighter and wished he was pumping his sperm inside her instead of into the condom. Immediately her eyes flew open. Had she just thought that? God, no. That wasn’t her! She didn’t want a baby.
But if it was his baby?
She immediately thought of Andi, and how unfair it had been for her, losing Greg’s baby.
It was just as well Bobby was so careful because she didn’t trust herself with him. If for some reason she ended up pregnant, it would crush Andi. Trini had always avowed that she would never have children, whereas it seemed kids were all Andi had ever wished for.
Bobby pulled out of her and sat up on the couch. Trini was disappointed because it seemed like he didn’t intend to go for a second round. She put a hand to her head and gingerly touched the sore spot at the crown. She didn’t mean to. She didn’t want to emphasize that he’d hurt her because he might get angry and leave her, but man, her head throbbed.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Guess I’ve just got to get a new couch without wooden arms,” she said lightly.
“You’re complaining?”
“I just don’t want to be knocked out before I can enjoy myself,” she said with an edge.
For a moment his lips tightened, like he was really pissed, but then his expression changed, became more indulgent. “Okay. I’ll be more careful next time,” he said, kissing her lightly.
This was the Bobby she loved. She threw her arms around him and buried her face in his neck, smelling him, wanting him. But he gently pulled away from her and reached for his clothes.
“I came to tell you I can’t stay,” he said regretfully. “I wanted to see you in person.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing you need to worry about.”
“Are you sure?” Disappointed, Trini started redressing as well. What was it about him that made her serotonin go into overdrive? When he was around, her brain seemed flooded with the stuff
that made you feel so damn good.
“Yep.”
“I made enchiladas,” she coaxed. “I just heated one in the microwave, but I’ve got more.”
“Ahh . . . no . . .” He smiled at her. “I can’t stay. I thought we’d just have . . . appetizers,” he said meaningfully.
“Want to go again?” she said, ready to rip off her clothes.
“Maybe. If we’re quick. First, I brought us some energy bars.”
“Energy bars? Now?” She laughed. “Come on, Bobby. I’ve got dinner ready.”
“This is a new kind. They’re really great. I tried one before I came and decided you’ve got to try one.”
“How about after dinner? I’ve got the fixings for a salad, too. I just haven’t put it together yet.”
“I told you, I don’t have time.” He got to his feet abruptly.
“You’re not leaving right now, are you?” She heard the desperate tone in her voice and could have kicked herself.
“Can’t stay.”
“Wait, wait. I’ll try one.”
“No, you don’t want to, so forget it.”
“Bobby!”
“Gotta go, sweetheart. I’ll see you in a week or two.”
“A week or two? What are you talking about? Stay for a minute. I’ll have one of the energy bars.”
“God, Trini, I’m not trying to force you. I just like them and wanted you to like them, too.”
“I get it. Okay. Hand it over.” She held out a hand and wriggled her fingers.
Somewhat reluctantly, he reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out one energy bar in bright blue foil and another in magenta. He ignored her outstretched hand and held them in front of her so she could see the front of each bar. The brand was called Cricket Boost. “Which one do you want?”
She dropped her hand. “This isn’t like marijuana or something? Some kind of edible you’re joking about?”
He laughed. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“I’m not against it. I’m just saying.”
“No, it’s just what it says, an energy bar.”
She squinted at the label on the blue bar, which read: Cricket Boost. All Day Energy That Keeps You Singing! Black silhouettes of a bird trilling away, a cricket rubbing his legs together, and a frog croaking covered the top of the wrapper. She saw the blue one was made of oats and macadamia nuts and honey; the magenta one contained walnuts, dried cherries, and blueberries.
