Bad Influence (Bad Love 3)

I nod, confused by his sudden mood change, then hop out of the truck. Jess stuffs his hands into his front pockets, keeping a healthy distance between us as we head for the entrance. Once we’re inside, Jess stops short, eyes fixed on a man at the bar. I pause, looking between the two of them.

“Go eat, Allie,” he says to me without taking his eyes off the man at the bar with the backwards Raiders hat.

“Aren’t you coming?”

“I just lost my appetite,” he says, finally meeting my eyes. “I’ll be here after your shift to give you a ride.”

“Oh.” I fight to keep the disappointment from being written all over my face. “Okay.” A million questions racing through my mind, I reluctantly walk away, not wanting to raise suspicion.

I take a seat in one of the back booths, too far away to hear, but close enough to see Jesse.

“Henry,” Jake says, standing over me with his order pad. I didn’t even notice him approach.

“Huh?”

“That’s Henry.” He nods toward Jess and the man—Henry, apparently—who pats the stool next to him in invitation. Jesse runs his hand through his hair, hesitating. I can feel the uncertainty radiating off him from here. “He’s the closest thing to a dad they’ve got,” Jake explains.

I nod, having gathered that. Not wanting to seem too interested, I pick up a menu. “I’ll have…” I say, pretending to scan my options that I know by heart, “a personal pepperoni pizza, a side salad with ranch, and a Coke.”

“Sounds good,” he says, not bothering to take down my order before walking away.

From the corner of my eye, I notice Henry walk outside, Jesse right behind him. I watch them through the window, Jesse’s gaze pointed at his feet as Henry speaks. Jesse shrugs in response to whatever he’s saying, kicking around a piece of gravel. They don’t appear to be fighting, but I can tell he feels uncomfortable. Right now, I see that vulnerable little boy from the picture. I don’t know what’s being said, but I know that I have the urge to hug him and make it better. To put that obnoxious, cocky grin back on his face. And the fact that I want to do that fills me with unease. He’s not my boyfriend—he’s not my anything—and I need to remember that. I can’t let the lines blur because we’re having fun.

Henry reaches a hand out to squeeze Jesse’s shoulder, causing him to flinch. The movement is almost imperceptible, but I catch it, and Henry does, too, if his dejected expression is anything to go by. Then they’re parting ways, Jesse going right, Henry going left.

By the time ten o’clock rolls around, I’m running on fumes. I’ve alternated between trying to answer all the question marks where Jesse is concerned and replaying the events of last night—and this morning—in my head like a movie all day. Every time the door chimed, I expected to see Jess, then chastised myself for it.

I’m absentmindedly wiping down my last table when I hear his voice behind me. “Hey, little girl, want some candy?”

I turn around, eyebrow lifted, to see Jesse holding a bouquet of Dum-Dums, all strawberry and butterscotch, by the looks of it. I flatten my lips to hide the smile that tries to break free.

“Sorry for bailing on breakfast. Lunch. Whatever that was.” His hair falls into his eyes, his expression mischievous. I roll my eyes, snatching the bundle of suckers. “Does that mean you forgive me?” he asks, amused.

“Nothing to forgive,” I say, feigning indifference, turning back around to finish wiping down the table.

He leans down, his front covering my back as he brings his lips close to my ear. “That’s a shame. I was hoping to make it up to you tonight.” His fingers rake up the back of my thigh, digging into my tights, and I jump away once they get to the hem of my shorts.

My eyes dart around the crowded room to make sure no one’s watching, putting a healthy distance between us. My skin is already on fire from his touch and the promise of what’s to come, but I glare a

t him. “What are you doing?”

“Relax. Everyone’s too drunk to notice.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then get in the fucking car so I can touch you at my leisure because it’s been eight hours since I’ve had you underneath me.” His words both thrill me and embarrass me, and I think that’s his intent. He wants to throw me off my game and watch me squirm.

I walk toward the back room to gather my stuff, intentionally taking my time. I’m just as anxious to be alone with Jess, but I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing it. When I’ve got everything, I find him waiting by the door, eyeing me with amusement—as if he knows I’m being purposely slow—with his arms folded across his chest. He pushes against the door with his back to open it, gesturing for me to go first with a flick of his chin.

“How chivalrous.”

“Chivalry’s my middle name.”

“I thought it was Cocky,” I say, rounding the corner toward the back parking lot.

“I’ll show you cocky,” he promises. Walked right into that one.

The moment we’re inside his truck with the doors closed, we both look at each other, the tension mounting between us. I wet my dry lips and his eyes follow the movement.