End of Day (Jack & Jill 1)

“Absolutely.” She smiled past the lie.

They pulled out of the drive with his parents waving at the front door. Jessica waited for Luke to speak as the GTO tore down the paved road. When the silence became too torturous, she broke it.

“About last night …”

“Yeah, there’s nothing to say. It was an error on my part. I apologize.”

It felt like a knife being lodged into her stomach. How could he say that? If almost having sex was an error, she hated to think of what having sex would have been in his mind. Then there was the whole professing her love to him.

“I wanted to make you bleed as much as I didn’t want to make you bleed.”

“I know.” He kept his focus on the road.

“I can’t remember the last time I didn’t want to make a man bleed. It felt like progress in a very painful way.”

He nodded. One. Cold. Single. Nod.

Jessica wasn’t in the mood to beg. Groveling was a pathetic behavior she saved for extreme circumstances. She tipped her head back and enjoyed the best part of the trip—the cherry red GTO.

Luke wasn’t kidding when he said there was nothing to say. Neither one spoke a solitary word the rest of the way back to San Francisco. She unfastened her seat belt before the car came to a complete stop in front of her place.

“See ya around.” She jumped out and waited with her arms crossed over her chest as Luke retrieved her bag.

“Jess—”

She snatched the bag from him. “No … don’t start now. If there was nothing to say three hours ago, there’s even less to say now.” Taking the stairs two at a time she fled to the safety of her home.

Jessica slammed the front door shut and waited. Waited, of course, for Luke to knock on it because she was certain he would … but he never did.

*

A sleepless night expedited the delivery of Monday. Jessica worked until noon, grabbed lunch, and made a quick dash across town to take another test. Some days her quest to become an actuary seemed insane, and the Monday after the Jones’ weekend qualified as one of those days.

Exiting the building, brain exhausted, she checked her phone, coming to an abrupt halt which earned her a few expletives from the person who bumped into her back.

Jones: My place, 7:00.

Jessica: No thank you.

There was a less than zero percent chance of her showing up at his place that night. She got her laps in at the pool and met with Jude to spar for an hour before grabbing dinner on her way home. Climbing the stairs to her apartment, she glanced at her watch: 8:15. A deviant smile tugged at her lips. OCD Jones was getting a taste of his own bitter medicine.

“Good evening.”

Jessica looked up as she reached the top of the stairs.

“Mind telling me what you’re doing?” She fished out her keys.

Luke stood by her door, ankles crossed, smug bastard mask in its usual place, and a bag slung over his shoulder. “I wanted to apologize again about the other night.”

She turned the key and shoved the door open like she wanted to shove him down the stairs. “Oh for the love of sex-deprived women everywhere, please don’t.”

The door shut behind him. “I was out of line.”

Jessica whipped around. “Yes, you were out of line for pretending that nothing happened. You were out of line for sitting in the driver’s seat the whole way home acting like a freaking iceberg. And you were especially out of line…” she narrowed her eyes as her chin jutted out “…for not letting me drive your car.”

“I—”

“No…” she shook her head “…I’m not done.”

Luke closed his mouth.

“But if you try to tell me you were out of line for what happened or almost happened in the shower, then I’ll count to five and you’d better get your ass going otherwise you won’t be leaving in one piece.”

His brows peaked while humor twisted his lips. “Are you done?”

She huffed, nodding to the black duffel bag. “What’s in the bag?”

“You’ll see, but only if you trust me.”

Jessica grabbed the sandwich from her bag and unwrapped it, attacking it like a shark. “I shouldn’t … but I do,” she mumbled over the massive bite. Wiping the corners of her mouth, she swallowed. “I just don’t trust myself.”

“That was the reason for my apology. I want you to trust yourself with me—not for me, for you.”

“That’s funny, coming from the guy who threatened me with a muzzle and straitjacket.”

Luke shrugged as he dropped the bag on the floor with a thump and a rattle. “I also said there was a less than zero percent chance of us having sex.”

Jessica stared at the bag. “We didn’t have sex.”

Luke moved closer with the calculated moves of a predator. “But we kissed,” his gaze locked on hers holding it hostage.