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“I’m meeting some people fordrinks.”
I shift off the counter, nearly taking the water glass with me in the process. “Now? Don’t you want me to return the favor?” I have to swallow to get the wordsout.
He turns back, straightening his tie. For the briefest moment, I think he’s going to kiss me. “No.”
The word hits me like a velvet hammer. The impact is barely lessened by his softtone.
But clearly, I’m a glutton for punishment today because I stammer, “You don’t wantme.”
“On your counter, when all you want is to forget? No, Idon’t.”
He looks angry for a moment, but then he’s Wes again, and Wes doesn’t get angry. Conflicted because he’s probably thinking way too many things rightnow.
But as if he sees something in my expression that elicits compassion, he steps into me, threading his fingers in my hair and brushing his thumb over my unscarred cheek before bringing his face so close I can feel his light breath on myskin.
“Blowjobs aren’t favors,” he murmurs against my ear. “Not to me.” He crosses to the door, shouldering his bag and reaching for the handle before pausing. “Feel better. You and the skunk. I’ll send you the transcript from theinterview.”
Then he’s gone, and as I collapse against the wall, my heart hammering in my ears, I don’t feel better atall.
* * *
It’snoon Saturday when the knock comes on mydoor.
“Who isit?”
“The biggest nerd youknow.”
The girl on the other side is my age, her hair as dark as mine is light, with glittering hazel eyes and lip gloss. She’s wearing skinny jeans and a leather jacket, but she’s the honest kind of pretty you can’tfake.
Me, on the otherhand…
One glance in the mirror on the way out of the bedroom this morning said I look like I feel: disturbed and underslept. My phone had been buzzing this morning, and I liftedit.
There were two messages from my brother and one from a guy I used tosee.
I’d dropped the phone back on the nightstand and tried to go back tosleep.
Which was impossible after what happened lastnight.
So I got up, showered, and covered the scratches withmakeup.
Now I am in desperate need of girl time, and I grab my friend in a hug. “It feels like forever since I sawyou.”
“You visited in August.” Haley sounds perplexed, and I nod as I pullback.
“I know. I’m amazed Jax let you out of his sight for a fewdays.”
Haley snorts. “I didn’t give him anoption.”
My friend is one of the most independent people I know. After losing her mom, she put herself through school, during which she ended up doing an internship that put her on a rocktour.
The rest, as they say, ishistory.
“Where’s the Scrunchmuffin today?” my friendasks.
“He had a big day yesterday. He’s feelingintrospective.”
There’s another knock on the door, and Ifrown.
