“Wake up, asshole.” Jillian gave each cheek one last wake-up slap.
He peeled his eyes open and Jillian’s face, directly above him, came into focus. Her soft feminine features were hardened, eyes squinted.
“Your nose isn’t broken, but it’s bleeding like a son of a bitch, so get your ass off the floor and pinch it before you stain your grout.” She tossed a dish rag on his face. He grabbed it then rolled to his side. “If I were you, I’d accept the PTSD label otherwise you’re just a prick.”
“Like you’re a fucking angel,” he grumbled while lumbering to his feet, right hand squeezing his nose.
“Not even close, but at least I acknowledge my dysfunctional behavior and recognize the cause.” She slammed the door.
Chapter Eighteen
Jillian reserved the right to hate AJ for his venomous words. However, she knew that wouldn’t happen. He couldn’t control his behavior any easier than she could control hers. He’d been verbally abusive and she’d been physically abusive. Neither were excusable. His refusal to acknowledge his PTSD left them in a complicated situation. She had a slew of questions about his past, including the demise of his marriage. However, questioning him would have been an open invitation for him to continue exploring the life of pre-Omaha Jillian, which was impossible because it didn’t exist … it couldn’t exist.
“Dahlia wants to ‘go all the way’ tonight,” Jackson announced as Jillian shoved some snacks in her bag to take to Dodge’s house.
“Dahlia?”
“Yes, the girl I’ve been seeing.”
Jillian looked up from her bag and squinted. “Sesame Street girl?”
“Yes.”
She smiled. “Well, my dear brother, my words of wisdom are to go and play, everything will be A-OK.”
“Real funny. But I’m not taking her virginity.” Jackson stretched then interlaced his fingers behind his head.
“What’s wrong? Mr. Snuffleupagus under the weather?”
“No. Her mom had a lesson today and asked me not to go and play.”
Jillian’s eyes bulged as she laughed. “Seriously? Her mom asked you to not sleep with her daughter?”
“Not directly. She just went on and on about how thrilled she is that Dahlia’s dating someone mature, and because I have a cross tattooed on my arm she just knows I’m the type of guy who respects the sacredness of waiting until ‘vows are exchanged’ before taking a woman’s ‘flower.’”
“And of course you told her the reason you got that sacred tattoo ten years ago was to convince an unsuspecting virgin that you were a man of God who would cherish her forever if she gave herself to you.”
Jackson shook his head. “You and your bullshit story. That’s not what happened and you know it. I was going to get another tattoo anyway, and she wanted to watch. She told me if I let her pick out the tattoo, she’d have sex with me. I’d been eyeing the cross anyway. I wouldn’t permanently mark myself just for some chick.”
“You’re pathetic.”
He leaned against the counter, crossing his hands over his chest as Jillian stared at the cross. “I’ll admit, that Jude guy had a way with the ladies.” He pursed his lips like the cocky bastard he was.
“Male whore … he was a male whore. So why the loyalty to Dahlia’s mom? I’m sure her daughter won’t tell her mom if you two have sex. It’s not like she’s underage.”
Jackson shrugged and Jillian gave him a wrinkled face filled with distrust before leaving for Dodge’s.
“It’s the mom.” She turned before closing the door, having an ah-ha moment.
“What?”
“You like the mom … not the daughter. You won’t sleep with both because you’ve never been the Benjamin Braddock type. And you like older women; rarely do you go for the young twenty-somethings. I’m right.”
“You’re not.” Jackson firmed his jaw to contain his grin.
“I’m soooo right.” Jillian winked and shut the door.
The knowing smile on her face faded as she passed AJ’s house. In less than twenty four hours they’d fought twice and had sex three times. Whatever was between them was virulent, but too addictive to ignore. She needed him to remind her to not let her guard down and that was what earned him a bloodied nose. Any other guy would have filed a restraining order, but not AJ. Everything he did was a silent plea for more. More, that only Jillian could hear and only Jillian could give.
“Where’s your Harley?” Dodge asked when he opened the door for her.
“Taking a nap, getting rested up for when I ride it hard later this evening.” She grinned.
Dodge made several sounds but none of them formed into decipherable words.
“I’m relentless like that.” Jillian elbowed his arm as she made her way inside. Lilith’s smile came to life when she spotted Jillian. “Hi, Lilith. Did you eat?”
“Leftover steak from last night, but she’s been bugging me to warm up the leftover apple pie Stan’s wife made for her.” Dodge grumbled out the last few words.