11
“You can’t come in,” Jocelyn says quickly after unbuckling Jude from his car seat.
I expected this. Actually, I expected worse from her after the shit I’ve pulled. More heat. More anger. More uncertainty. I broke every assurance I made to her today, and on top of that, I fucking attacked her in the damn game room at the restaurant. I don’t regret any of it, but I’ve been preparing for the consequences.
“I know,” I say with a nod. I tell June goodbye as she heads into the house, and I take note of the way she bounces a bit instead of sulks. I think today was good for her.
“Why can’t you come and play cars with me? You said you could play cars and I could have the purple monster car and you would play with the black and white broken one and we could race them.” Jude tugs on my leg as he pouts, and I rub his head with a smile. The kid played hard today, and his eyelids are heavy. He won’t last another hour before he passes out.
“I’ll play cars with you soon, Meatball,” I tell him. “But not tonight. You got school tomorrow and so do I, and I’m tired. I gotta go do homework. Don’t you have homework?”
He giggles. “I’m in preschool so I don’t have homework.”
“What!” I say dramatically. “I thought you were in college like me.”
“Jesseeeee,” he scolds, and I laugh.
“Gonna show all your friends your cast tomorrow?” I ask, and he bounces.
“Yes!” he says excitedly, then stares at his cast adoringly. Not only did Ivy, Bailey, Riggs, and Kelley sign his lime green cast, we also got the waiter at the restaurant and the girl working the counter at the ice cream place to sign it too. His cheeks gotta hurt from smiling so big. Mine kinda do.
“Head inside, Captain,” Jocelyn says, and Jude pokes his lower lip out farther. “Go on. Pick out your pajamas. I’ll be right in.”
Jude hugs my leg, says goodbye, then runs up the stairs and into the house, leaving me and Joss alone in the garage. I turn all my attention to her.
“He’s going to be so sad when that thing comes off next week,” she muses about Jude’s cast. I nod.
“When can I see you again?” I cut right to the point. She’s got shit to still finish tonight and I don’t want to keep her, but I’m not willing to leave without some sort of plan, either.
“I don’t know,” she says quietly, and I shake my head.
“Don’t do that, Joss,” I say. “I’ll be more careful from now on. I’m keeping it quiet. When can I see you again?”
She studies me before answering. “I work all week and will be studying most nights. I’ve got a test coming up.”
“Test in what?”
“It’s a basic anatomy course. I took it already when I was in my CNA program, but it’s the only one of my courses I couldn’t opt out of because I took it right before the cut off.”
“I can help you study,” I offer, and she shakes her head no adamantly. I laugh. “Why not?”
“I don’t need distractions,” she says with a raise of her eyebrow. “And you’d be a distraction.”
I don’t hold back my grin, and when she flushes, I bite my lip and drag my gaze down her body. Yeah, I’d definitely be a distraction. I step a little closer, making her back up against the car. She glances quickly toward the door leading into the house, then back to me.
“I want a chance to finish what we started today,” I say to her, and relish the way her breath hitches and her pupils dilate. I rub my lower lip with my thumb. “That taste I got isn’t enough, Classic. I want more.”
She sucks her lower lip into her mouth and looks away.
“You don’t have to...that’s not...” she stutters, and she flushes a deep pink. It stretches from her cheeks to her neck, and into the collar of her shirt. She lowers her voice. “I don’t expect you to....” She gestures to her lower half.
My eyes narrow and I tilt my head to the side. What is she saying?
“You don’t expect me to...?” I lead, my question equal parts confused and amused. She clamps her eyes shut then takes a breath. She’s so cute.
“I don’t expect you to taste anything,” she pushes out, and I hold back a chuckle.
“And if I want to?” I ask, bracing my forearms on the car, boxing her in. She still doesn’t open her eyes, but her chest rises and falls rapidly as she fights through whatever it is she’s feeling. Embarrassment? Is she embarrassed? I smirk.
“I know that you don’t....” She takes a deep breath. “I know that guys don’t like doing that.”
I bark out a laugh. This has to be a joke. I swallow another laugh and work to fight my grin. I don’t want her to think I’m making fun of her, but this has to be a joke.
“Guys don’t like eating pussy?” I ask for clarification. Because...the fuck?
She opens her eyes, frustrated, and hits me with a don’t bullshit me stare.
“No,” she spits, “they don’t. I don’t want you to think I expect that from you.”
My jaw drops, and I gape at her. She’s dead fucking serious, and now she’s getting pissed at me. For what? Cause she thinks I’m lying to her? Every bit of humor I felt just went up in flames.
“Who told you that, Jocelyn?” I ask sternly, and her head jerks back. She doesn’t answer. “Your ex? Is he the one who told you guys don’t like eating pussy?”
She still doesn’t answer, but she grits her teeth, and I watch her jaw tighten. Fuck that guy. “Classic, I mean this with all due disrespect, but fuck your ex. He’s a fucking idiot.”
Her mouth falls open, but her silence makes me angry. Like she’s totally in shock that Patrick the Prick was full of shit. Like she can’t fucking fathom that I would be telling the truth about this. Nope. This is not cool.
“I’ll be back. Give me an hour. I’ll text and you can meet me on the patio.” She starts to protest, but I cut her off. “Trust me, Joss,” I plead. “Gimme an hour.” Then I turn around and walk out of the garage and head straight to my car.
I don’t bother going next door because I know Riggs and Bailey are at her place tonight. Instead, I head straight to Bailey’s. I also don’t bother going through the apartment building to the front door. It’s faster to climb up the balcony and go in through the sliding doors. We keep telling the girls to lock those doors, but Bailey still keeps them open when she’s home. She says that I’m the only idiot who would climb the second-floor balcony to break in, anyway. She might be right, but I still think she should lock them.
I hop the balcony railing and, sure as shit, the glass door is already open, allowing the cool night air to flow into the apartment. I slide open the screen door and walk toward Bailey’s bedroom. I slam through the door and head straight to the bookshelf. She yelps from the bed, but I don’t look toward it. I’m on a mission, yeah, but also, I don’t want to risk seeing any parts that aren’t my business to see. Like Riggs’s bare ass. I’d definitely get a complex and be forced to do squats for a year. No way my ass can compare to Thor’s ass.
“What the hell, J!” Bailey screeches. “You can’t just fucking barge into my room. What if we were having sex?”
I wave her off without looking away from the bookshelf and hear Riggs’s deep laugh.