“Why was that?”
“Why was what?”
“Why’d you act like you absolutely hated me? I mean, I carried that guilt for a while, thinking maybe I said or did something wrong that night, but . . . man, I’ve been over it in my head so many times. I don’t understand what happened.”
“It wasn’t you.” I met his eyes. “It was . . . it was a me issue.”
“So, what happened with volleyball?”
“Do you ask all of the women you’re casually fucking for specifics on their lives?” I sit back and keep watching him.
“Only when curiosity gets the best of me.” He sits back and mimics my pose, but he’s shirtless and all I can see are his muscles.
“Where do you want to go for brunch?” I ask, trying to steer the conversation in another direction. Jagger knows this.
“Anywhere you want to go.” His mouth tips up slightly.
“I don’t have a preference. I just need to shower and get ready.” I stand up. He stays sitting, looking up at me with those toffee eyes that look almost golden today.
“You need help in the shower? I can be very thorough.”
A shiver runs down my spine as I set the mug in the sink and start walking away. I look at him before I’m completely out of the kitchen. “I’ll leave the door unlocked.”
As I’m walking down the hall, I hear him scramble to his feet and smile. I know he’s not mine forever, but I’ll settle for right now.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Jagger
I wasn’t kidding when I said I normally don’t take girls on dates and it is apparent in the way I keep glancing over my menu to make sure Jo is still sitting in front of me. Jesus. Why am I so nervous? I’ve been inside of her, I’ve had my tongue on every inch of her body, and yet sitting at a restaurant with her is what makes me nervous? We’re sitting across from each other in a big booth, so it’s not like we’re holding hands or anything, and yet, I feel this way.
She sets her menu down and looks at me. “I’m going to have the Cinnamon Toast Crunch pancakes.”
“I think I’ll have the same.” I set my menu down.
“You want to share?”
“Do I want to share?” I chuckle. “Not particularly. If it’s too much for you, I’ll have the rest.”
“Okay.” She smiles. “I hate wasting food.”
“Same.” I smile back. The waitress comes over and gasps.
“Jagger Cruz.” She smiles wide. “Long time no see.”
“Hm.” I smile, nodding. I haven’t been here in a while, but I’m not sure if Beth’s talking about that or about us hooking up last year, so I keep it simple. “How have you been?”
“Good. Better now that you’re here.” She’s still smiling when she looks at Jo. “Oh. Are . . . is this a date?”
“We’re friends,” Jo says. “I’d love some coffee and we’re both getting the Cinnamon Toast Crunch pancakes.”
Beth seems at a loss for a second, but she nods and smiles and takes our menus before walking away.
“Another one of your casualties?” Jo asks.
“My casualties?”
“Casual hookup whose heart you broke.”
“Uh, yes to the first one.” I rub the back of my neck.
“Are you uncomfortable right now?” She laughs lightly. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look uncomfortable.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever had to explain myself to anyone. Normally women ask about other women in passing, not . . . ” I shake my head. “I’ve never taken a woman to brunch.”
“Why is that?” She leans forward a little, placing her elbow on the table and her head in her hand. “Are you afraid they’ll fall in love with you if you give them dick and feed them?”
“Why does it sound so ridiculous when you say it?”
“Because it is. It’s pretty apparent that your ex-hookups fell for you pretty hard, and you never fed them, so I think there’s a flaw in your little plan.”
“Is this your way of telling me you’re falling in love with me?” My heart hammers. Shit. I really went there.
“No.” She scowls. It’s the prettiest scowl, her small nose scrunching up like that.
Soon, Beth is back, wordlessly setting two mugs and a pot of coffee on the table for us before walking away. She doesn’t even ask if we need anything else. Not that I care. I’m still looking at all the shades of pink Jo’s cheeks are turning.
“So, volleyball,” I say. She can’t escape that subject here. Not unless she flat out says she doesn’t want to answer the question and I really hope she does because for some strange reason I want to know.
“No one knows what happened.” She keeps her eyes on the mug of coffee she just poured and slides it over to me before pouring one for herself. I lift mine and cheers her as a thank you.