The Crush

Now what?

Jace was inside, probably fucking some girl, and I was stuck at the house unless I wanted to walk somewhere. I supposed I could go back over to Nora’s…

Just as I’d had that thought, Jace came out of the house. His hair was mussed, and he looked so gosh darn sexy in his fitted, white T-shirt, and ripped jeans. I wanted to scream. I was mortified to have caused him to come out here.

He ran his hand through his dark mane. “That thing crapped the bed again, huh? Didn’t you just get it back from Rusty?”

I exited the car and slammed the door. “Yeah. I, uh, need to get going, but it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen.”

“Don’t take it back to that pervert anymore. I’ll take a look at it tonight.”

“Yeah. Well, I don’t want to bother you. You’re clearly busy today. I know you have a friend over. Saw her shoes.” I huffed. “Big feet.” Jesus, Farrah. Can you be more obviously upset?

He didn’t acknowledge my comment. “Like I said, I’ll take a look at it tonight.”

The sun shone on his beautiful eyes, causing them to glow.

I stared down at my shoes. “Thanks.”

“Where do you need to be right now?”

“I, uh, was gonna meet a friend at the plaza down the street for coffee,” I lied.

“You need a ride?”

I looked up. “How are you gonna give me a ride when you have someone in your room?”

“I’ll tell her I’ll be right back.”

I concluded that interrupting Jace’s late-afternoon fuck wasn’t the worst thing in the world. I shrugged. “Sure. A ride would be great.”

“Okay.” He walked back toward the door. “Hang on.”

As I waited on the sidewalk, I realized this was a stupid idea. But that’s what I got for pretending I had somewhere important to be. I didn’t dare follow him back into the house. Seeing her would make me more upset.

Jace reappeared and clicked to disarm his truck. I hopped in.

“So, who are you meeting?” he asked as he put his seatbelt on.

I locked myself in too. “Some guy.” Where did that come from?

His brow furrowed. “Who?”

“Just someone I met online.”

His eyes narrowed. “He doesn’t have a name?”

“It’s…Sheridan.” Sheridan? You couldn’t have come up with a more common name?

“Whatever you do, do not get into his car. You don’t know this guy.”

“I’m a big girl. Don’t worry.”

“I won’t be worried as long as you stay at the coffee shop. Don’t be getting in any cars with strangers. You hear me?”

I felt guilty that his genuine concern was in vain. But I had no choice now except to continue this charade.

“Jace, don’t worry. If I get a weird vibe, I won’t.”

He slammed on the brakes and stopped in the middle of the road. “Okay, I’m not sure how to make myself clearer. I don’t care what kind of vibe he gives you. Do not get in his fucking car.” His face turned red as he took off slowly again.

I hated that I loved angry Jace. I hated that he was angry for no reason—because there was no guy. But most of all, I hated that he was going to take his anger out on that girl back in his bedroom, and not on me. I could only imagine how amazing it would feel to be angry fucked by this man.

I couldn’t help myself. “Who’s the girl back at the house?”

After a few seconds of nothing, he decided to grace me with an answer.

“Her name is Alyssa.”

“Ah. A newbie?” I stared out the window, wanting to scratch my eyes out.

“I guess.”

“So, you got tired of Linnea and moved on to…Alyssa?”

His eyes darted over. “Sounds like you’re being a little judgy.”

“No. I almost feel bad for them, though. You know… I can easily put myself in their shoes. Linnea really liked you. I could tell. And I’m sure this girl does too. Yet you left her in your bedroom to give me a ride. She must be pissed. She’ll be even more pissed when you stop calling her eventually because you met someone else.”

“Wow. Okay. So it’s like that.” He shook his head. “Why don’t you just say what you mean and call me an asshole?”

“Sorry. I’m…cranky…because of my car.”

“Tell me, Farrah, what am I supposed to be doing at this point in my life? Not dating anyone? How do you even know if you click with someone unless you try? I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing at my age. I don’t make promises to anyone, and I don’t need you to be judging me for shit that’s none of your damn business.”

Ugh. I went too far. “I didn’t mean to sound like I think you’re an asshole. I just think…”

“That I’m an asshole.” He chuckled.

I sighed. I’d let my jealousy get out of hand. The worst part? My emotions were rising to the surface. I was on the verge of admitting something I’d regret.