Page 95 of Falling for the Playboy Pilot

34

JANNA

Iflipped the page of the Cosmo magazine. I wasn’t even paying attention to the words. I was only doing what I could to avoid looking at my phone. To avoid picking it up and texting Dalton. His stupid invitation to get together pissed me off. Was he planning to fuck Tanya at three and then me at seven?

Fuck that.

The man couldn’t seem to figure his shit out. Hot and cold. Games. I was not interested in being a yo-yo. If he wanted to mess around, he was more than welcome to do so. I just didn’t have to be one of the mares in his stable.

Let him talk to all the Tanyas in the world. He wasn’t mine, and I wasn’t his. If he wanted to hook up with every pretty face he met, fine. But it was ridiculous that he had the nerve to get jealous when I talked to two firefighters yesterday. He had actually tried to fight them. I wasn’t tracking down his many women and trying to pull their hair or kick their asses.

And the balls on him, to have a date with Tanya in the afternoon and try to hook up with me later. Was he planning to kiss me with the taste of Tanya still on his lips. The bastard. Pig. Jerk.

After I spent the night in his bed, I thought there might have been something. I didn’t know what and I wasn’t going to ask him to put a label on what we were or weren’t. I didn’t want to be a total girl and freak him out.

And that stupid text, all cool and casual, made me crazy. I knew I should be in the simulator or maintenance or anything that would be useful. Instead, I was holed up in my room and allowing myself to sit in a pot of jealous stew. A bubbling stew that was ready to boil over. Like a volcano. I was two seconds from exploding and not in a good way. All my lava was going to be directed at one tall, dark, and handsome asshole.

I felt so stupid for falling for the bullshit. I let him act like a caveman and then slept in his bed. I gave him what he wanted.

Except sex.

Why did he want me in his bed if not to fuck me?

That was odd. It had been anything but physical.

I groaned and threw the magazine. It was almost two o’clock. I didn’t know where Dalton was right now, but I knew where he was going to be. And dammit, I couldn’t stop myself. I had to know. I was a glutton for punishment.

Maybe I’d storm in on his little tryst and start throwing punches. See how he liked it.

I jogged downstairs and headed out to find Cheryl. She was reading a book in the living room area.

“Hey.” She smiled when she saw me. “I thought you might hide out and pout all day.”

I slumped down on the couch beside her, pulling my knees up to my chest. “I’m not pouting.”

“Right.” She closed her book and turned to face me, one eyebrow raised. “So what happened last night? You never came back to the dorms.”

Heat crept up my neck. “Nothing happened.”

“Nothing?” Her voice pitched higher. “You disappear after Dalton practically started a brawl over you, and nothing happened?”

I fidgeted with the hem of my shirt. “We just talked. Sort of. And then we went to sleep.”

Cheryl stared at me like I’d grown a second head. “Sleep? As in actual sleep?”

“Yes, actual sleep.” I could feel my face burning now. “We didn’t have sex, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“But you spent the night in his bed?”

“Yes.”

“And he didn’t try anything?”

“No.” I buried my face in my knees. “He just held me. We spooned.”

The silence stretched so long I finally peeked up at her. Cheryl was gaping at me like I’d just told her aliens had landed on the airfield.

“Dalton Lucas?” she said slowly. The look of incredulity would have been funny if I wasn’t in such a shitty mood.