Okay, no. That’s not why I’m mad, but I’m actually kinda softened by the fact that he thinks that’s it. It means he did listen.
“No.” I shake my head. “I’m not mad at you. I just don’t want to go.”
“Bullshit.”
Damn. Alex’s way of calling bullshit probably scares grown men into peeing themselves. There’s so much force and anger behind the word, it’s a wonder I don’t flinch. Or maybe I do, I’m not sure. I’m trying too hard not to cry.
But there’s no way I’m going to confess to him my real woes here. He has an inflated enough ego—he doesn’t need to know that I fell head over heels for him and I’m crushed to be reminded that he’s here because my father sent him, not for anything more.
“Just leave me alone.” I start marching back to the hotel again.
“Jenna, hold up.” He arrives by my side, matching my swift pace. “I’m sorry. I’ll help you out when we’re back in Chicago—set you up with your own place—anything you need. Just because you’re going back doesn’t mean you have to live at home or give up on your dreams.”
I stop, because his gesture is unbelievably sweet, even though it’s not the one I wanted. My nose burns, but I manage to hold back my tears. “Thanks, Alex. That’s kind of you.”
“Yeah?” He ducks his head, trying to peer in my face. It’s dark, though, and the moon is just a sliver.
“Yeah, thanks. I’m sorry I got mad. This isn’t your fault. It never was.”
He slips an arm around my waist, but I dance away again. When we get to my suite and he follows me in, his brows are down, eyes troubled.
Well, too bad. I’m the mystery he’s not going to solve tonight.
Or any other night. I had a nice hookup with Alex. He was the perfect guy to lose my virginity with, but if I want to keep my heart from getting crushed any further, I’d better keep my distance.
Chapter 6
Alex
It’s the longest fucking plane trip in the history of the universe. Or maybe just the most miserable. Jenna won’t talk. She’s not giving me the silent treatment—no, she’s quite polite. But there’s no friendly chatter. No making conversation.
And she definitely doesn’t want to be touched. She skitters away from me every time I lay a hand on her waist or touch her hand.
My stomach churns on the flight home, trying to figure out what I missed. Is Jenna really afraid of her father? I don’t think so. But what, then?
We finally land in O’Hare and Don G, himself, picks us up. He acts like he didn’t just bust my balls and slaps me on the back, thanking me for bringing his baby home.
I’m relieved to see Jenna’s affectionate with him, and he with her, so nothing seems amiss there.
“Well, I’ll just get a cab,” I tell Don G.
“You sure? I got no problem taking you home.”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” I cut my glance to Jenna. She’s sick of me trailing her by now, and could probably use some space.
Oddly, she doesn’t looked relieved.
In fact, she looks like she wants to cry. I touch her elbow. “Hey. Take care of yourself, okay?”
She blinks rapidly on her way in for a hug. “You too.” She sounds choked up.
Her dad takes her bag and puts his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against him as they walk away. For some reason, I feel like I’m bleeding out of a giant, gutting wound.
And that’s when it hits me like a bullet between the eyes—Jenna’s heart was in play.
And I fucking crushed it.
I’m so sick I want to throw up. Somehow my feet still move me to the line of cabs and I make it home, where I throw myself on the bed and stare at the ceiling.
I’m tired and jet-lagged and I can’t even trust my own head. All I know is what’s in my gut, which feels like a knife twisting and spinning.
Did I read the signs right? Does Jenna care about me? If so, what I did was unconscionable. I took the girl’s virginity and walked away, for Christ’s sake. What must she think about me?
But what fucking choice did I have? Don Giuseppe told me to keep my hands off her. If he finds out what I’ve done, there’ll be hell to pay.
Since sleep seems impossible, I get up and stagger to the bathroom to splash water on my face. I can’t stand the guy I see looking back at me in the mirror. The guy who hurt Jenna Pachino.
How could I?
And I have no fucking clue how to fix this. Truthfully, she’s better off without me. I don’t want her to live a life like my mom, always afraid of losing the man she loves. It’s not fair to her. She should have her chance to get out of La Cosa Nostra.