I don’t know what to say. I’m completely dumbstruck into silence. I want to rewind to seconds ago when
his mouth was on me and his fingers sliding inside of me when I didn’t want him to stop. I’m reeling with
confusion, stung by his instant rage and close to tears. My heartache returning with a passion as he
walks off from the car into darkness for a few minutes. I can barely make out his powerful figure as he
paces back and forth. He seems to be really pissed off, trying to regain some control, arguing with
himself. If it weren’t so traumatic it would be kind of funny to watch.
I try to pull in my thoughts, hauling my skirt around me a little, trying to conceal as much nakedness as
I can before he returns. He spins toward the car, and stalks back with a glare of sheer fury as he slams
into his seat with a closed off expression on his face. He doesn’t look at me, just throws us into reverse
at speed, causing me to shoot forward. His hand darts out, grabs me and stops my collision with the
dash.
“Put your fucking belt on!” he barks, angrily. Almost like he’s slapped me in the face, and I remove his
hand from my waist and scramble to pull my belt over, harnessing myself in obediently. I can’t speak …
On the verge of breaking down because I have no idea what I’ve done wrong and I become a jumble of
shaking nerves.
What the hell happened?
He flicks on the stereo with a push of a button and music blares around us. Nickelback’s ‘Rockstar’ is
mid-chorus, loud and invading, drowning out the ability to talk. He’s making it very clear he has no
intention of talking anymore. His focus is on the road as he reverses out into a clearing, a little more
gently this time, but his face is a picture of rage. He gets us back on route, jaw tight and frowning. I can
see the darkness in his eyes, even from this angle, and know he’s in another shitty mood, clearly in
psycho mode.
He’s driving a little more aggressively, just like he did on the way back to the boat when we went away
on holiday. Even that nightmare ended with me not seeing him for over a week. I don’t feel quite so
relaxed anymore as he makes full use of the car’s responsive acceleration. I know a severely pissed
Carrero when I see it, but I don’t understand why. I slide down in my seat, trying to look out the window
away from him. My heart pounding through my chest manically, so afraid to even look his way. I have
so much I want to say to him, but this reaction, and the way he’s acting has killed the words on my lips.
I want to cry and get as far away from him as possible, so I can sob this night away.
I maneuver my skirt around my waist, so the split is up the outer side on my thigh, at least I’ll be able to
hold it together when I make my exit and only expose my leg instead of ass. I catch him glancing at me,
his expression harsh. He clenches his teeth, making his jaw move in agitation and looks away again
quickly almost spearing my heart with the ferocity of his glare.
The rest of the journey is tense and conversation free as loud music blares around us, adding to the
heightened fragile atmosphere.
* * *
When we finally pull up to my building, he gets out, and comes around to let me out of the car. Yanking
the door upwards, he stands back, keeping his distance as I clamber out, ungracefully holding my skirt
with one hand and gripping the doorframe with the other. We avoid looking at one another, the icy air
between us sending out chills. I long for him to say something … anything. But he doesn’t. He just
closes the door behind me and walks off, getting back into his beast, pulling away, and leaving me
standing on the curb. The sound of his tires immediately screeching on the road adds another slice to
my already slashed heart. One more Jake scar for the collection.
Sarah looks me up and down in confusion and worried alarm, questions held on her lips, yet she says
nothing. She’s waiting for me to explain, watching my expression earnestly. I’m holding my skirt
together with one hand at my thigh but it’s not doing much to conceal my naked leg, she can probably
see my lack of panties too. I shake my head, sighing, my face pleading with her, as though begging,
‘Please don’t say a word’ and I walk past her. She moves aside, her mouth agog but thankfully, she
leaves me alone to let me walk to my room to shut her out.
I strip, quickly pulling on sweats and a loose T-shirt before sinking down onto my bed, letting loose the
scrambled thoughts in my brain. I groan inwardly. Dampening the agony. My aching heart is solidly
back in place and I run a hand over my eyes and rub harshly, smudging my make-up.
What the hell did we do? Again?
I’m more confused now than ever before. I thought Jake sending me away had been so final. It told me
he wanted me out of his life, that he wasn’t into me at all. Yet look what just happened. I didn’t initiate
any of it this time, he did. But he also ended it just as abruptly. He even said doing those things to me
were why he sent me away in the first place.
Jake will never want what I want. He’s not looking for a girlfriend, especially not one like me. Yet,
somehow, I seem to have had as much of an effect on him as he did on me. I want to cry but there’s a
tiny glint of hope inside of me, not just from the last few minutes together but about the entire day. The
events leading up to his kiss, his touch.
He was going to have Dan Gabrielle fired. He’d already warned Ray off, then he forbade me to leave
New York; almost pleading with me not to go. If I think logically, he’s acting like a man with some deep
feelings for me. But, if I listen to my heart, it’s telling me I know Jake’s way better than that. He’s always
been protective of me. He cares because I’m his friend, he’s a good man who defends any woman’s
right to be respected, more than any man I’ve ever known. It only makes him even more appealing.
But kissing me? Almost having me on his car?
And then, there’s Marissa. Something neither of us broached. Marissa and his unborn child. There’s no
way I could ever forget her presence in his life.
A gentle knock on my door interrupts my train of thought and Sarah comes inside, shyly bearing two
mugs of cocoa. She slides them down on the bedside table and climbs on the bed beside me, lying
down, mirroring my pose across the quilt.
“What happened to your skirt?” she asks, reaching down to the floor to try to grab it. She untangles it
and holds it high, smirking in admiration.
“Jake happened.” I shrug. We’ve come so far in our relationship lately; we no longer have secrets. I’ve
learned how to communicate with her a little better and enjoy having someone to confide in nowadays,
about Jake anyway.
“Wow! … As in … You had sex?” She turns to gaze at me.
“Ripped skirt says sex to you?” I blink back flatly.
“The lack of panties under ripped skirt says sex to me.” She grins but her smile falters when she
catches my dark expression and shaking head.
“Well, if you call getting me to the point of almost screwing me on his car bonnet, then walking away,
and dumping me out front without a goodbye, sex then …” the tears bite at my eyes but I don’t allow
myself to cave. I’m so tired of crying these past weeks.
No wonder I’m confused.
“…Wait … He did what?” She turns to stare at me, her eyes boring into my profile with as much
confusion as I have.
“I don’t even know. It’s been a long day, so much has happened, and it sort of led to being dragged out
of his car for a heated make out session that he ended … And now he’s pissed at me for something he
started.” I raise my hands in agitation, voice pitched. “He drives me crazy.”
“Holy hell … I thought you didn’t even see him anymore … You left for work in a funk and come home
half dressed … How the hell did you get from there to … Well, here? In a day!” She grins at me, but I
shake my head again, more confused than even her.
“I don’t even know, Sarah … I don’t know what to think anymore … I ran into him in the elevator, then
things just seemed to escalate from there. I saw him twice after that and he brought me home … The
kiss happened on the way here.” My eyes drop to the satin bed spread and I fumble with the surface
threads, my mind a chaotic mess.
“Did he say anything?” She narrows her eyes, studying my face. She’s been trying to analyze
everything “Jake” since he sent me away a month ago. “You know about making out with you, then
stopping it?”
I shake my head and take deep heavy breaths, trying to stop the thundering of my heart. Calm the
trembling of my body as the shock finally dies away and the pain starts.
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