Jesse

by Jo Raven

  Hell, what did I do to piss her off in the first place, anyway? How is her bad mood my fault? Screw the bitch.

  I can’t help looking at her, though, through the smoke I blow through barely parted lips. She hasn’t moved, despite her obvious annoyance at me, and her fall of long dark hair gleams like silk. The harsh light picks out her upturned nose and smooth cheek, the long dark lashes framing pale eyes.

  Her short dress sparkles, silver threads that are woven in the dark blue textile catching the neon glow. Her ass is a perfect heart, her tits heavy, and her legs are long and shapely. For a second I wonder what she’d look like, naked underneath me, those long legs wrapped around my waist.

  Shit. I suck in smoke and almost choke on it as the mental image slams into my brain. “Fuck.” I bend over, coughing.

  She huffs. I thought she’d find my choking to death amusing, but not even in my dying throes can I get this girl to crack a smile.

  “So,” I finally manage to draw breath, “I heard you’re moving in here, with Kayla. This makes this practically your party.”

  “This isn’t my party. It’s Ev’s and Kayla’s.”

  Huh. Fair enough. “Have you known them long?”

  She tenses, and I have no clue why. “Only just met Kayla today. I’ve known Ev for a while, though.”

  “But you’re from around here, right?”

  “What’s with the third degree?” Her glare is back full force, and I blink.

  What’s up with you? I wanna ask, but refrain.

  “I was just making conversation,” I mutter, stubbing out my cigarette on the window sill. “Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

  She glances my way and opens her mouth, then snaps it shut when the door behind us whines as it opens.

  Heels clack on the floor.

  “Jesse, babe, been looking everywhere for ya,” a female voice slurs, and arms wrap around me from behind. “Come back inside.”

  Not again.

  “You go.” I try to disentangle myself, but the chick behind me clings to me like a leech. She reeks of alcohol. “Hell.”

  “I think you should,” Amber says, her voice flat. “I promise I won’t cry.”

  “I don’t know about that. What if you do?” I push the other girl back with one hand and keep her at arm’s length. Unbelievably, she keeps trying to come back. “I bet you’ll miss my good looks and my clever comments.”

  “You’re clearly delusional.”

  A grin pulls at my lips. “Sex is great at curing delusions, or so I hear.”

  She gives an incredulous snort. “Dream on.”

  “I swear.”

  “If sex could cure you, you’d be cured already.”

  Ow.

  Score: Amber.

  “Never hurts to give it another try,” I say, grinning at her. “Never give up, that’s my motto.”

  “You know, I couldn’t care less about your motto.”

  I wince. God, what’s this power this chick has to stab me so deep? And why should I care if she thinks badly of me?

  “Just… go back to your girl and let her help you out.” She scowls and waves at the blonde, who’s giving us confused looks.

  “She’s not my girl.” I shrug with one shoulder. “But if you’re interested, maybe I can convince her to try a threesome.”

  Amber’s cheeks color and her eyes flash. Man, she’s gorgeous. “I’m not interested.”

  “In threesomes, or in men?” I quip, my mouth on autopilot, like it often gets when I’m agitated. “’Cuz I could watch you get off with blondie here, I wouldn’t mind. Or wait, we could also invite Kayla, your new roommate. She looked interested.”

  “Screw you, asshole.” Amber pushes off the wall strides to the open door. “Not interested in you. Stay away from me.”

  I laugh, but something painful twists inside my chest. I have no idea what it means, and what to do about it, so I just watch her enter the apartment and vanish in the party crowd.

  Fuck. Me.

  “Jesse,” the blonde whines, red lipstick smeared all over her face as she pouts at me. “I don’t feel so good. I think I’m gonna puke.”

  I let her go as if burned, then grab her again when she sways on her high heels.

  Goddammit. My chest still feels too tight, but I ignore it with the ease of long practice and haul the blonde back inside and straight to the bathroom. Nothing out of the ordinary, a typical party night—and yet something has changed.

  I have this feeling I haven’t had in a while—the feeling I don’t know where I’m going and what I’m doing.

  I know the cure for it, though. As soon as I make sure the blonde is not in need of a trip to the ER, I’ll grab a bottle of tequila and settle down with a mission to erase all emotion and wipe out all memories.

  Sometimes it even works.

  ***

  “Hey, Jesse, whatcha doing?” Rafe lifts his fist, and I bump it with mine—or try to. I manage to miss it. I see double by this point, so it’s no wonder.

  “Heya. Wassup?” Damn, my mouth isn’t cooperating. My hands either, I realize, when Rafe easily pulls a glass—empty, I notice—from my lax fingers and sets it on a low table. Has to be low, ’cuz I’m sitting on the floor, my back to the wall, and it’s at eye-level.

  Unless I’ve grown bigger. Kinda like the Alice eating that cake in Wonderland. It was in a book I found in one of the foster homes I’d passed through, but then I lost it.

  Like I lose everything important in my life.

  Did I eat cake? Can’t remember eating anything. I often forget about food. There was a time I tried hard to forget about food, because I didn’t have any, and now I can have it, I keep forgetting about it.

  Figures.

  “Man, you’re so fucking out of it.” Rafe grumbles as he thrusts a plastic cup into my hand, liquid sloshing inside. “Drink.”

  I take a sip and grimace. “What’s this?”

  “Water with sugar and salt. Chug it down already. No alcohol poisoning on my shift.” Rafe scowls at me through the blond hair falling in his face.

  Second person I managed to piss off tonight, blondes excepted.

  “Yessir,” I mumble and down the water in two gulps. I somehow end up with some of it on my T-shirt, and it makes me snort.

  “Yo, Jesse.” Another tall form appears behind Rafe, and the Mohawk tells me I’ve drawn Zane’s eye.

  Oh shit.

  “Damn. Is he as piss-ass drunk as he looks?” Zane rubs a hand over his face, and the look of disappointment on it cuts deep. He’s my mentor, my teacher, the one who took me in.

  Then again, feels like tonight everything cuts too deep, like I’m a reopened wound, letting the blades of words sink all the way to the bone.

  “I’m okay,” I mutter and push to my feet, holding on to the sofa as the floor tilts. “See?”

  “The hell you are.” Zane huffs. “What’s the matter with you, kid?”

  It’s always funny how we calls me that, not being any older, but tonight I don’t find it funny.

  “Everything’s fine.” Has to be fine, and I was wrong: alcohol isn’t helping me forget and get numb tonight. It rubs into my scabs, reviving every single fucking memory. “Perfect.”

  “I’m driving you home,” Rafe says, grabbing my shoulder as I stumble on empty beer bottles. “Come on.”

  And I go along. I paste a wide smile on my face and stagger out of the apartment, keeping my gaze straight ahead and my heart lodged somewhere in my throat, telling myself I don’t care what happens, what others think of me and where I will end up tomorrow.

  If life has taught me one thing is that it makes no difference if I care, if I try—and fuck the world, anyway.

  Chapter Three

  Amber

  Pre-party, the apartment looked small but cozy and clean. Post-party, it looks like a bomb went off—a bomb filled with beer bottles, plastic cups and, for some reason, multicolored confetti. Probably napkins, though why someone would shred them i
nto tiny pieces is beyond me.

  Much in life is beyond me. I’ve long given up trying to understand people. Seriously. Trying is a waste of time. Instead, I let life flow around me, over me, let people brush me by, and do my best to keep my head down and be invisible.

  In my experience, attention is a bad, bad thing. It leads to interest, and interest can turn bad more times than not. Avoid interest, avoid attention, and you avoid problems.

  Which is why Jesse has unsettled me so much, I muse as I gather plastic dishes and cups, throwing them into a huge trash bag. There was interest and curiosity in his gaze. I had somehow, mysteriously, drawn the attention of the hottest guy in the room, and it only served to frighten me.

  I need nothing from him. No attention, no interest, thank you very much. I hope he got the message. I’m perfectly fine without any more men in my life. I mean, I have my dad back in Chicago, and I can’t avoid Micah and Ev’s friends completely.

  That’s more than enough. Way more. Maybe more than I can handle.

  My hands are shaking, and I sink down on the sofa. Something crinkles under my ass, and I cringe, pulling out a plastic spoon.

  Rolling my eyes, feeling a bit better, I chuck it into the trash bag and sigh. Why can’t I chuck my fears in there as well? How can the past keep me prisoner after so many years? How can I break the chains? How can I fight something that is supposed to be over?

  “God, I’m beat.” Kayla drops on the couch next to me and leans back, closing her eyes.

  Her blond-streaked hair is caught in a messy bun on top of her head, strands escaping and falling in her face. I barely recognize her dressed in sports shorts and an oversized T-shirt, a far cry from the slinky dress she had on last night.

  “So, what did you think of the boys?” She nudges me with her elbow, and I flinch. She doesn’t seem to notice. “That’s some seriously hot eye-candy, girl. I’d love me one.”

  “Any?” I lift a brow at her, trying to figure her out.

  “Gawd, that Jesse’s sexy. Love his eyes. And his body. And his lips.” She giggles. “I don’t think there’s anything about him I don’t like, actually. And I’m not the only one.”

  “Oh?” A fiery blush is climbing my neck. Crap, am I so obvious?

  “Cassie, the girl working with Ev,” Kayla says. “She has a crush the size of Texas on Jesse.”

  Oh. Okay, awesome. I nod, trying to process this. “So… they’re together?”

  “Who, Cassie and Jesse?” Kayla laughs and wiggles her bare toes in the air. Her nails are painted a bright pink. “You don’t know Jesse. I mean, you just arrived, so it makes sense.”

  “Yeah?” My curiosity gets the better of me, and I turn to face Kayla fully. “What about him?”

  She shrugs. “It’s not a secret. He’ll fuck anything with tits and a vagina. And Cassie, well…she’ll sleep with anything that has a dick. Sorry to be crude, but it’s the truth.”

  I fall back on the sofa cushions, letting the trash bag drop to the floor.

  Of course I knew that about Jesse. I mean, hello. Talk about an introduction. He’d practically fallen out of the bathroom after doing whatever it was he’d been doing with that blonde. A blonde whose name he didn’t even remember thirty seconds later.

  And then he’d been with another. Jesus. “And you still want him?”

  “Uh-huh.” Kayla sighs dreamily.

  “You just said he’s a manwhore.”

  “Pfff.” She waves a hand. “Nothing wrong with ogling him, is there?”

  “Ogling.” I shake my head, fighting a smile. “I see.”

  “And the occasional touch. Doesn’t hurt, does it? I just want…” She wiggles her fingers and makes grabby hands. “Want to feel his abs, you know? They look, like, rock-hard. And his pecs. Wouldn’t mind feeling his biceps, either. I’d totally grab his ass, too.”

  “You’re crazy.” I laugh. “I mean it.”

  “Crazy in lust.” She bobs her head to imaginary music. “Oh yeah, baby.” Then she stops and squints at me. “Wait, you mean you’re not dying to touch him? Now be honest. We’re roommates and all. First rule of roommateship: always be honest about boys.”

  “Kayla, I…” Don’t do boys. Don’t want to think about boys. “Fine.”

  She leans forward until she looks into my eyes and says in a mock-deep voice: “Don’t you wanna feel up Jesse’s abs? Speak the truth.”

  “No.”

  “No, what?”

  “No, I don’t want to feel Jesse’s abs, pecs, ass or any other part of his anatomy.”

  “Funny.” She leans back, yawns. “I could’ve sworn you do.”

  “Why?”

  “Don’t know. Could be the way you turn red and shivery whenever I mention him. He’s a handful, isn’t he?” She winks, just like he did, and on cue familiar heat sweeps over my face. “Gotcha. You lied. You’d so feel Jesse’s pecs and ass, you naughty girl. And you broke rule number one, about not lying when it comes to boys, which means you get to clean the toilets.”

  I huff, my mouth falling open. “Seriously?”

  “Ev should’ve explained the rules. I’m so gonna kick that girl’s ass,” my new roommate says and leaves me on the couch gaping after her. “We’ll discuss rule number two later.”

  Like hell.

  ***

  “Isn’t Kayla awesome?” Ev gushes, her arm around my shoulders as we walk down the street in the late afternoon. Summer is approaching and the breeze is balmy, brushing over my face with invisible fingers.

  “She’s cool.” I chew on my lip, thinking about what she said.

  Eye-candy. Cassie wanting him. Hell, every girl dying to touch him.

  “Something the matter?”

  I shrug against her arm. I don’t let many people get as close to me as Ev, but I’ve known her for most of my life. We went to the same elementary school, then high school. Her family lived a street away from mine. I trust her like few people in the world.

  “She can be a bit too much sometimes,” Ev concedes to my unspoken doubt. “Did she give you the rules of roommateship?”

  I grin despite my misgivings. “Yep. Be honest about boys, never wash dishes in the morning…”

  “…Your stuff is my stuff, and my stuff is my stuff, too…”

  “…Wednesday is romantic comedy and ice cream night.” I giggle. “Is she serious?”

  “Deadly. Plus she changes the rules as she goes, on a whim.”

  I fall silent, wondering if this cohabitation thing will work out. Doubtful.

  “On some days you may want to assassinate her,” Ev says, steering me toward the entrance of a café. Crescendo, reads the sign over the door. “But on the whole she’s good fun, you’ll see.”

  I nod vaguely as we move between small, crowded tables, the air thick with voices and laughter. Freshly-ground coffee and a whiff of vanilla scent the air, underlain with a layer of sweat and human breath.

  My hand strays up to my throat, to my choker. I made this one two months ago, when I took my decision to return to Madison. My fingers stroke the smooth planes of the copper plate. I breathe out.

  “Here they are,” Ev exclaims, and I recoil. Shit, I thought we’d have a quiet coffee, just the two of us. “Come on.”

  “Ev, who’re “they”?”

  “Micah, Ocean and Cassie. Micah texted me they’d be here.” She sends me a bright smile. “Don’t be grumpy. They’re nice guys.”

  “I bet they are.” Sometimes I wonder if there’s any place in the world for the antisocial like myself.

  I let her drag me to their table, and I nod at them, hoping my smile doesn’t look fake. Normally Ocean’s pretty face and crazy hair would be the first thing I’d notice, but since Kayla’s comment I find my gaze drawn to Cassie.

  She’s so perfect, blonde and blue-eyed, skin smooth and pale, and a petite body that seems to have all the right curves. If she likes Jesse, then I guess it’s a given fact they’ll end up together. Beautiful people tend to gravitate
toward each other.

  Besides, they apparently even think alike. A match made in heaven.

  No reason why the thought of him with another girl should sting like broken glass. None at all.

  I find myself seated between Ev and Ocean. He leans in and smiles warmly.

  “Didn’t get a chance to talk to you at the party.” His voice is light, his eyes and hair the color of summer sky. “I’m Ocean Storm.”

  “Ocean Storm? Really?”

  He winces and shifts away. “Yeah, really.”

  “I’m sorry.” Shitshitshit. “Hey, I—”

  “It’s okay. I know it’s funny. Go ahead and laugh.”

  “It’s not funny.” My voice turns sharp and my insides churn, and I hate that I know exactly what he means and how he feels. I wonder how badly he was bullied because of his name. “I like it.”

  He says nothing, but I could swear his eyes brighten a bit more. He sips his black coffee, half-hiding behind his mug, while Cassie leans over the table.

  “Amber, right?” Her voice is a velvet purr. “We met at the party. I’m Cassie, I used to work with Ev. She says you’ve been friends forever.”

  “That’s right.” I detect no jealousy in her big eyes. I like that.

  “But you lived in Chicago for a few years?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Must be nice. I’d love to go to Chicago someday.” She turns her coffee cup in its saucer. “Someday, yeah…”

  She seems nice, and her smile is dreamy and genuine. It’s hard not to like her, although she’s so pretty and likes Jesse.

  Jeez, Amber. And why should that be a problem? Christ.

  I need something to do with my hands, so I brighten when Ev waves to draw a waiter’s attention. A cappuccino would be nice, plus I can spin the cup, much like Cassie is doing, stare into it, sip at it, bang it around in its saucer… so many options, all preferable to interacting with people. With humans.

  I think I know how cats must feel most of the time.

  “Hey, guys,” a bright feminine voice says, “what can I get you?”