A muscle jumps on his cheek as he asks, “What’s my way?”
I look into his eyes and state, “Using other guys to… dull the pain. For wanting an asshole like you. So maybe, itisfor your benefit after all.”
I want to say I’m proud of myself. For sticking to the plan. Forsticking upfor myself. For not melting at the last second and remembering to put him in his place. But I don’t. As in, feel proud of myself.
All I feel is this sting in my belly when his eyes flash and his chest swells up with a long but sharp breath. Then, leaning closer, he growls so low it’s almost a grunt, “Make an excuse and ditch him.”
“But I?—”
“And then usethisto pay for that fucking drink you just had,” he keeps going, sliding something toward me on the table.
I look down and it’s his credit card. “What?”
His jaw is ticking. “He isn’t going to pay for your drink, I am.”
“What? That’s just?—”
“Because this isn’t afuckingdate,” he declares crazily.
“Itisa date. It’s?—”
“Because if it’s a date, instead of going home, he’s going to the emergency room. And you don’t want that for poor Joe, do you?” All I can do is blink at him as he continues, “When all of this is done, you meet me at my truck across the street.”
My eyes are wide. “Meet you?”
“You’ve got ten minutes.”
My heart is pounding andpounding. “Shepard, I…”
His angry eyes flick back and forth between my scared ones as he says, in a voice even lower and rougher than before, “You like saying my name, don’t you? You liked whispering it in myear the other night just before you ran away. So trust me when I say you really don’t wanna make me wait, and you sure as fuck don’t wanna run. Because when I catch you, I’ll let Joe and every motherfucker in this town watch as I throw you over my shoulder anddragyou out to my truck, just so you have a reason toscreammy name out loud. And I’ll make you scream it so goddamn loud that it'll feel a lot like that revenge you were so afraid I was here to exact.”
Chapter Six
THE WRECKING THORN
Of course she ran.
And of course I followed her. Only she had no clue. She still doesn’t. She doesn’t know I’m outside her apartment, right across the street, sitting in my truck.
Watching her bedroom window.
It’s not the sanest thing to do, watching a girl’s window in the middle of the night. But I’m not exactly sane right now.Orvery calm. I could blame it on the conversation I had with Con in his office today. And yes, it’s one of the reasons why I’m feeling the way I am. But it’s not just that. It’sher.She’sthe reason I’m feeling angry and aggressive. Restless.
She’salwaysbeen the reason.
Jupiter Jones. My little sister’s best friend and the girl, for some strange,strangereason, I don’t ever stop thinking about. I haven’t stopped thinking about her ever since I saw her over a year ago at Callie’s house.
I hate to admit it, but I remember theexactmoment I saw her.
It was one of my sister’s get-togethers and I’d just arrived at the backyard where everyone was gathered. She was standing off to the side, facing away from me, and all I saw was her hair. Miles and miles of it. Thick and wavy, going down to the small of her back. I remember thinking I’d never seen hair that long or that thick. Or even that shade. Which should’ve been bullshit because I have seen redheads before. I’ve fucked them too. But in all my years of misadventures, I’d never seen a shade like hers, more violet than orange, fucking sparkling under the sun and against the green t-shirt she had on.
I also remember thinking that what I was doing, staring at her without her knowledge, was uncharacteristic of me. I couldn’t remember the last time I did that. Probably never. I never had to. Girls always knew who I was, and by the time I looked they’d usually already be looking at me, trying to catch my attention. Even Isadora had been the one to approach me first.
This strawberry-haired girl had no clue that I saw her first before she ever saw me.
Not until someone—Ledger—clapped my shoulder, and broke the moment. In more ways than one. As in, she realized I was there and spun around, her eyes widening. And like a fucking dumbstruck moron, I thought that just like her hair, I’d never seen eyes that color before, pure emerald green.
In any case, that was that. I put her out of my head. Or rather tried to. But every time our paths crossed after that, she made me halt in my tracks and look. I realized she had a shy smile but a loud laugh. She always stood on the periphery, at the edge of everything, like she wanted to be a part of things but didn’t think she could be. She was friendly to everyone but only close to a couple of the girls in Callie’s group. She wasn’t exactly quiet per se, but she wasn’t crazy talkative, and she could be sassy when she wanted to be.
