Jamie narrowed her eyes at Jared, a real smile threatening to break free. He was good, she’d give him that. He had this aura about him. He was this confident, self-assured man, undoubtedly the most charismatic tech nerd she had ever met. A tech nerd who didn’t act, talk, or look like one. One who would most likely con her out of her panties if she wasn’t careful.
“So, remind me, what is it that you do?” she asked as he navigated the hundred-thousand-dollar electric car through the Seattle streets.
Jared chuckled. It was a deep, rich sound that sent a shiver down her spine, but not the good kind. Not the kind she got when Ryder would sing in her ear as he fucked her, but the kind that made alarm bells ring out in her mind.
“I made my fortune off the GPS app you’re so fond of,” he explained. “Then once I graduated, I moved back to Washington and opened up my company in Seattle. Palo Alto is a rat race and I wanted to be home.”
“You’re from Seattle?”
“No, Tacoma, but with Amazon, Microsoft and Expedia here, I figured the market was ripe for the picking, so to speak.” He smirked. “I was right. GoTech is thriving. We’ve got the tech side with development and programming, but more recently, we’ve been looking at expanding,” he explained as the car rolled to a stop. He studied her face for a moment, an easy smirk tugging at his lips. His eyes glinted with something dark, sinister.
Jared was a complete mystery to Jamie. If she were honest, something about him made her uncomfortable, but in her haste to forget the hazel-eyed sex god, she ignored her gut and settled back into her seat. “That sounds fascinating.”
“You have no idea,” he chuckled again, and again she shivered. After the bizarre exchange, the two fell into an easy conversation about nothing and before she knew it, Jared was handing his keys to the valet and leading her into the restaurant.
“I feel like I’ve heard of this place, but I’ve never eaten here,” Jamie commented as they followed the pretty hostess to a table in the back. The lights were low and pink seemed to be the theme. The color was everywhere, from the large floral displays set throughout the dining room, to the accents on the chairs, and the lettering on the staff’s otherwise black uniforms. The women wore tight dresses with the words Cibo embossed across their chest, and the men donned equally tight t-shirts, with equally pink lettering. It was all so familiar, yet so foreign, but that was her life these days, existing in a world unknown to her; a world where she cared about a boy, a world where she lied to her best friend.
Jamie was taking the self-destructive thing to a new level.
“It’s been here for about a year. The couple who owns it also owns a few others. They were initial investors in my app, and are big contributors in my upcoming endeavors.”
The dining room was bustling with activity, every table was occupied, and if the smells coming from the kitchen were any indication, at the very least she’d have a good meal.
“Should we get a bottle?” Jared suggested, pointing at the wine list. She nodded mechanically. Being here was wrong. Something about this place grated on her conscience. There was no way she was getting through this date without a little liquid courage. “You pick, just nothing too sweet.”
Jamie’s face turned up in disgust. “Nothing about me is sweet.”
“I don’t know,” he mused, “you don’t seem too bad.”
“Give it time. My sour side will rear its ugly head eventually.”
“Like a Sour Patch kid?”
She grinned, nodding as their server appeared. Jamie ordered a bottle of dry white wine because it was her favorite and since she planned on drinking most of it, she figured she might as well get what she liked.
“Tell me something about yourself,” Jared asked.
Something about myself, she thought, looking around the room like the answer would magically manifest. The couple to their left looked to be in their thirties, married, judging by the huge diamond on her finger and the shiny gold band around his. He was on his phone, and had been since the moment Jamie and Jared arrived, while the wife, belly swollen with child, played with her dessert.
Jamie wondered if she should tell Jared that she was basically the Antichrist and that she’d undoubtedly ruin his life, or if she should just keep it light?
“I am a terrible cook, but an excellent baker,” she said opting for light. It went better with the wine.
“I have a live-in cook and an incurable sweet tooth. It’s a match made in heaven,” he laughed, just as their server, Steven, returned with the wine. Jared tasted it, a smile on his lips, and nodded his approval. Steven poured them each a glass, then explained the specials for the night. Jamie went with the fish and Jared, the chicken.
It was all so normal, but no matter what she did, that nagging feeling, caused by the Ryder shaped hole in her chest, wouldn’t go away. Lifting her glass, Jamie said, “It’s your turn. Tell me something, something good,” then took a sip of wine.
“I was born with six toes on my left foot.”
A lady must never spit.
It was a lesson her mother drilled into her brain as a child, and one the first guy she ever gave a blow job to, reinforced. A lady never spits, but the six toes thing had her breaking that rule. “No way,” she said, dabbing her chin with the cloth napkin, “let me see.”
“I don’t have it anymore,” Jared laughed. “My parents had it removed shortly after I was born. There are pictures, at my place.”
Swiping her finger across her lip, Jamie inhaled, and exhaled slowly. “Will you show me?” she breathed, deciding in that moment to use Jared to fuck away any residual sadness she had over Ryder. But then Karma did that thing it does; it bit her right in the ass, because no sooner did she think about sleeping with another man, the one she wanted appeared.
Jamie’s face paled as she locked eyes with Ryder from across the room. His expression was indecipherable, but there was no mistaking his anger. She felt it in her bone marrow. His skin emanated a radioactive glow as he stalked over to their table. The black t-shirt she’d stepped over many a night on her way to the bathroom stretched across his chest. That was it, the reason this place gave her a sense of dread. This was the Italian restaurant. The one that put pineapples on pizza all the time.
“Who the fuck is this?” The words seeped from his teeth like a poisonous gas.
“Hi,” Jamie said slowly, trying not to choke on the fumes. Ryder’s anger confused her. He didn’t want her. He made that clear when he walked away and didn’t call for two days.
“Who. The. Fuck. Is. This. James?” Ryder growled, ignoring the other man all together. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I’m having dinner, Napoleon.” If he wanted to use first names, she could do it too.
“You’re on a fucking date?” His voice was low, but his presence screamed so loudly she was sure the angels heard.
Jared cleared his throat. Jamie almost forgot he was there. Ryder’s appearance eclipsed everything in his path. “Do you know this guy, Jamie?”
“I… he’s…”
“Her fucking boyfriend. Who the fuck are you?”
Jared snorted, “You’re not her boyfriend. You’re a bus boy. Now run along and leave us to enjoy our meal.” His tone was harsh. It was like he transformed into her father before her eyes.
“Us?” Ryder seethed.
“Jamie and I.”
“Ryder, relax, it’s only dinner.”
That time he roared, “ONLY DINNER?” His voice was so loud, the man to her left put his phone down. “Get the fuck up.” He grabbed Jamie by the arm and pulled her to her feet.
Jared stood, “Take your hands off her.”
“Or else what?” Ryder asked, taking a step towards Jared. Jared in turn, took a step towards Ryder.
“Ry, why are you doing this?” Jamie did her best to keep her voice steady, but it came out all cracked and broken. When it came to Ryder, everything was always cracked and broken. Her brain, her decision-making capabili
ties. He’d torn her apart from the inside, and insisted on piecing her back together.
“Get. Your. Shit,” he gritted. His fists clenched and she obeyed because even though he didn’t want her, she knew she needed to end this. For once, she had to be responsible. For once, she needed to latch on to the good and not cling to the bad.
“Okay,” she said grabbing her purse, “now can we go?”
“You’re leaving with this guy?” Jared’s face fell in disbelief. Jamie could tell he wasn’t a man who was used to losing.
“I’m sorry. I just,” Miss him. Need him. Want him. “I’m just sorry.”
Ryder grabbed her by the hand and led her through the dining room, and into the kitchen. Every eye was trained on them. His long legs moved swiftly. At that pace, in those shoes, Jamie nearly slipped on the greasy kitchen floor.
Shoving his way out a side door, Ryder paused, turning back into the kitchen. ”Wait here,” he demanded. Minutes passed before Ryder returned, pushing a helmet into her chest. “Put this on.”
“You don’t have to be such a dick,” she said snatching the helmet.
“And you don’t have to be such a slut.” The sun was settling over the horizon. The sky darkened and they hurled insults back and forth like a tennis ball. The alley behind the restaurant was dirty and damp, a stark contrast to the inside. It was fitting. This fight was gritty, their pain, real.
“Fuck you!” she yelled and tossed the helmet back to him. “You pulled me from a date with a nice guy so you could yell at me some more? I think I’d rather drink my wine and eat my dinner.” If she was lucky, Jared would still be there, or at least their table would be.
Jamie made it all of two steps before Ryder was on her, the helmet falling to the ground with a loud crash. “What if I brought a girl to the news station? How the fuck would you feel?” he asked gripping Jamie’s waist. Ryder spun her around, forcing her to meet his gaze.
“I wouldn’t feel anything, because we broke up. Hell, we weren’t even really together.”
He looked at her like she’d sucker punched him. Her words hit their mark, and she was glad for it. Glad to inflict a little of the anguish he’d caused her in the last forty-eight hours. “When did we break up?” His words, were more accusatory than questioning.
“Don’t play dumb.”
“Dumb? Jamie, we had a fucking fight.” His grip on her waist tightened. His mouth, inching closer to hers. “We will have a lot of fucking fights, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t together.”
“You didn’t call me for two days,” she whispered, because she didn’t trust herself to speak any louder.
“I was pissed at you. I am pissed. You fucked up, and you’re still fucking up. You told that asshole you were sorry, and you have yet to tell me? That’s messed up.”
Jamie looked down, unsure of what to say. It was easy apologizing to Jared, but hard to say the words to Ryder. “I told you I wouldn’t be good at this.”
“I’m in love with you, James.” He said it with so much passion, so much conviction, she couldn’t help but believe him.
“You can’t love me.” Pulling his hand from her hip, she placed it over her heart. “There’s nothing in here but broken pieces.”
“I love you, James,” he repeated, his mouth hovering over hers. “I’m not going to let you push me away. I’m not going to let you keep yourself from me anymore. You can put on a brave face for the rest of the world, but not with me, not anymore.”
“You can’t love me.”
“Kitty Cat.”
“No, Ry, you can’t.”
“I love you.” His tongue slipped out, tracing her bottom lip. His mouth closed in on hers, his soft lips begging for entrance. Jamie froze, letting the gravity of the situation wash over her. Her first kiss was in the same damp and dirty alley, and it was just as fitting. She exhaled, and flung her arms around his neck, submitting to him. Ryder grinned against her lips, before licking his way into her mouth triumphantly. Jamie could taste the cinnamon whiskey on his tongue.
He tasted like home.
Promises, like hearts, were made to be broken; a lesson Jamie learned the hard way. Her heart went first, when it was ripped from her body last fall. That’s when she promised herself to never let love destroy her again. Then along came Ryder, and there went that. He was her very own Saint Peter, clutching the keys to the Kingdom in his palm, but was she worthy? He told her he loved her, which after her behavior was inexplicable. A part of her held out hope that he meant it. They were three little words that never held much weight before, but felt like a boulder coming from Ryder’s lips.
Jamie’s thighs clenched around Ryder as he steered the older model Harley Davidson down the quiet residential street. He pulled to a stop in front of the small home he shared with his friends and killed the engine, submerging them in silence.
“Are you okay?” he asked, helping her to her feet. Ryder bent into a squatting position to inspect her legs. Physically, Jamie was fine. Riding on the back of his bike in a dress wasn’t the worst thing to happen that night, but mentally, she was fucked.
Was she okay?
Probably not.
Were they okay?
She hoped so, because as scary as the thought of letting him in was, the thought of never again feeling his mouth against hers was worse. Jamie didn’t do the kissing thing, blame Julia Roberts and Pretty Woman, but when Ryder’s lips crashed down onto hers, it was heaven.
It was nirvana.
It was everything.
Jamie wasn’t sure what would happen next, but in typical Jamie fashion, she opted for deflection. It was always easier than saying what was on her heart. “I’m okay,” she said pulling the helmet off her head and running her fingers through her blonde locks. “But I think my hair has seen better days.”
Ryder snatched the helmet from her, searching her eyes for answers she didn’t have. “Fuck your hair. Jamie—” he began. The front door burst open and a giggling Tiff walked out with CT behind her.
Jamie exhaled in relief, rubbing her tattoo across her bottom lip. They couldn’t save her from his wrath or her guilt, but they could buy her a few extra moments to figure out how to make things right. CT nodded in their direction. Jamie expected judgement from the drummer, but much to her surprise, there was understanding in his blue eyes.” You’re home early. I thought you worked until eleven?”
Shit.
Another thing to add to the long list of reasons why Ryder should tell her to fuck off. He had caused a scene at his job, because of her, and he’d probably be fired, because of her. Ryder grunted a string of expletives under his breath, grabbed Jamie by the hand, and pulled her up the stairs.
“Hey,” Jamie greeted meekly as the two passed the drummer and their ex-threesome partner.
“Somebodies in trouble,” CT said in a singsong voice. Oh, how Jamie longed to wipe the shit-eating grin off his face, but it wouldn’t win her any points with the angry blond stomping into the house ahead of her. And, the bastard was right, though it didn’t stop her from flipping him the middle finger as she followed dutifully behind her boyfriend.
Boyfriend.
Her poor heart never stood a chance. What was worse, she wanted to give it to him. Jamie longed to give him everything he wanted, she just wasn’t sure how. She was so out of her depth she couldn’t see the bottom of the pool anymore.
Why did she agree to dinner with Jared?
Why didn’t she listen when Kensie said to call?
Tension spilled from Ryder’s pores as he pushed open the door to his bedroom. “I want you to take this shit off,” he growled, tugging at her dress. “All of it, the make-up, the clothes, the shoes, everything. I don’t want to see you dressed up for another man.”
Jamie did as she was told, peeling away layer after layer until she was bared to him. “Ry, I—”
“No,” his fingers brushed gently over her lips, “first we shower, then we can talk.”
She nodded and watched
as he pulled the black t-shirt over his head. Once he undressed, he grabbed the pink, terrycloth towel that hung on his closet door and wrapped it around her body. Then he retrieved her toiletry bag from his dresser and led her to the bathroom.
Shutting the door behind them, Ryder shuffled through her bag, pulling out the makeup wipes. His brow furrowed in concentration as he gently wiped her face, taking special care around her eyes. A few minutes and two wipes later, the mask she donned for her date with Jared was gone. In fact, this was the first time she’d ever really shown herself to Ryder. The first time she let her guard down enough for him to see. “Ry, I—”
“Shh,” he murmured, pulling back the curtain. “Let’s just get you clean, Kitty Cat.”
Jamie followed Ryder into the shower. It felt like she was following him over a cliff, and in a lot of ways, she was. This was uncharted territory for her, but she trusted him to be her guide. Ryder wrapped his arms around Jamie. Her bottom lip quivered. It was too much, too intimate and she fought with everything she had not to do what she did best, run.
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. She couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. The ache in her chest was too great a burden to bear alone and for the first time, she didn’t have to. For the first time, it was okay for her to let go. Jamie once thought showing emotion made her weak, but she was wrong.
There was strength in vulnerability.
In that shower, she wasn’t Jamie, the big sister who used herself and her own shortcomings to shield her brother from their parents. She wasn’t Jamie, the friend who protected her naive bestie against men who only sought to take. She was just Jamie, and that was enough.
It was okay for her to be sad and unsure.
It was okay to need someone.
Time slipped away, or maybe no time passed at all. She wasn’t sure how long they stood under the hot spray, her crying, him brooding, both trying to figure out where to go from there.
It wasn’t until Ryder reached for her shampoo that she remembered where they were, not physically, but emotionally. They were at an impasse. She had to give if she wanted to keep him, she knew that, and she was willing.
Lithium Waves: A Lithium Springs Novel Page 14
