The Consequence of Loving Colton (Consequence 1)
His beady eye narrowed. “Funny.”
“Okay,” I sighed. “Listen—don’t watch.”
“Listening. Only because I’m drugged and Jenna’s fallen asleep across my body and moving means I’m a complete idiot.”
I nodded in understanding. “Because she’s hot.”
“No, you ass, because she’d fall.”
“Lies.”
“Just play your damn song!”
“So now you want me to play it,” I muttered, falling onto the bench and swaying backward a bit.
“Baby when the lights go out . . .” I pounded the keys and looked up, and crooned slower, “Every single word cannot express . . .”
“Please stop making eye contact,” Jason seethed, his eyes narrowing as he put a pillow in front of him like I had been singing to his parts.
I stopped playing. “Scared you’ll dig it too much? I feel you. So much man is . . . a rarity.”
“Do you ever stop talking?” Jason asked. “Or is this normal for you?”
“I’m sorry, you’re going to need to repeat the question. I don’t understand.” I totally understood, I just really found joy in pissing Jason off, there was also the whole “My best friend is currently getting screwed by Colt” and I really, really didn’t want to have to kill him and bury the body if he didn’t get things right.
Jason closed his eye and winced. “Why is this weekend not ending?”
“Because the universe hates you, and you agreed to marry a bloodsucking wannabe Real Housewife of New York, who would have used her nails as a way to kill you so we’d all end up on Dateline—crying.”
Jason flinched. “That entire speech made no sense at all and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t grammatically correct.”
“You’re not grammatically correct,” I fired back, pounding on the piano keys. “And I don’t care, that shit with Jayne was crazy. I basically saved your life.”
Jason threw his hands in the air. “How do you figure? Did you marry me instead? Did you get rid of Jayne?”
Just then Jayne walked round the corner, a bottle of champagne in her hand. “Max, I’m ready for our playtime.”
My balls actually quivered with fear.
No, really.
It’s medically possible.
It’s been proven that balls can actually shake from fear and trepidation—and I’d just experienced it.
Plus, she had claws.
Like superhuman claws that—once she dug into my tender flesh—would most likely end up rendering me paralyzed from the waist down.
I turned to Jason. “You were saying?”
He immediately closed his eyes and acted like he was sleeping.
“Someone’s not getting a Christmas present this year,” I muttered, then stood. “Ah, Jayne, you look . . .” I shook my head. I had nothing. Nothing. She looked like hell. Her lipstick was smeared halfway across her face, her mascara was meeting said lipstick down her cheek, making little cross signs on her almost-concave face.
I shuddered and spit out, “Lovely, just, lovely.”
“Aw, Max!” She reached for me. I flinched again.
Reid chose that moment to stumble into the living room, a look of pure horror on his face.
“Dude.” He pushed Jayne out of the way. “We have to go.”
“But I was having so much fun,” I said dryly, thanking my freaking lucky stars that my brother wasn’t stuck in a bedroom with Grandma, or worse, dead because he couldn’t live with the memories of what it was like to be smothered by her.
“She’s insatiable,” he whimpered. “And a man can only do so much, you know? And I mean, she’s—look, we just have to go.”
“Fine.” I pretended to be heartbroken when I took Jayne’s hand in mine and forced my eyes to fill with tears. “Parting is such sweet, sweet sorrow, my Jayne, I mean Juliet—damn, the names are just so easily interchangeable.”
“Oh, Max!” Her lower lip quivered.
Ha, funny, her mouth and my balls had something in common.
Fear.
“Can I have your number?” I said smoothly, effortlessly. Damn, I should have seriously been an actor. I could say shit like that all day and pretend like I didn’t want to stab her with the nearest utensil no matter how rusty it might be.
“Of course!” She fumbled a bit while pulling her phone out of her purse. I had half a mind to feel sorry for her. Then I saw her teeth and razor-sharp nails again and did a little jump backward. I even lifted the pants a bit—just to make sure the boys were still secure and hadn’t totally abandoned me by going back inside my body—rendering me sexless.
“What’s your number?” she asked, her fingers hovering in anticipation.
Well, damn, she just made it way too easy. With a happy sigh I fired off a cell number—my ex-girlfriend’s.
And honestly? Jayne had nothing on that bitch. The ex would chew her up, spit her out, and ask for more in the morning. Pity.
“Let’s go.” Reid tugged my arm.
“’Bye, guys.” Jayne pouted.
“’Bye.” I patted her head and shouted our departure to Jason. “Dude, slow down.”
Reid was full-on sprinting toward my Jeep. “She can smell fear!”
“Who?”
“Grandma. I swear that nose of hers is like a tracking device, she can smell me. Find me anywhere!”