by Jill Sanders
She shifted and looked out the window at the water across the street. She refused to think about why she did what she did. Not here. Not now. She wasn’t going to share what had happened with anyone. She couldn’t afford to.
Shrugging, she decided to do what she always did and blow it off. “I’m not that bad.”
“Really?” He leaned forward and took her hand. “Do you even remember what happened when we got back to my place?”
She met his eyes. “We fucked.” She shrugged again. The words stung on her lips. The pain in her heart almost caused her chest to burst.
“No.” He shook his head. “We didn’t.”
She leaned forward and looked him in the eyes, a smile pasted on her lips. “Call it whatever you want,” she whispered. “I don’t care.”
“That’s your problem.” He sighed. “I’m trying, really I am. I’ve been your friend, your protector, and your guardian.”
Something further down in her gut twisted at the thought of losing him because of stupidity. She knew sleeping with Blaine was off-limits. This was why. She didn’t think she could stand it if she lost him now.
“What are you saying?” she whispered.
He was silent for a while as his eyes ran over her face. Just then, the waitress stopped at their table to take their order.
Chapter Two
Why did he continue to torture himself? Imagining he could be with Jamie was pure hell. Since the first moment he’d seen her in class over two years ago, he’d been infatuated with her.
She was not only the sexiest but the smartest woman he’d ever met, and he’d fallen hard and fast for her.
When she wasn’t in self-destruct mode, she was funny and kind, and they had so much in common. He’d stopped trying to justify the attraction to himself long ago.
But, lately, she’d turned her self-destruct knob up a few notches. He’d been there, of course, under the guise of friendship.
How he’d gotten stuck in that role had confused him at first, but after a while, he’d been thankful that the first time he’d hung out with her, she’d been too drunk for anything more than some heavy kissing. Had they gone further, he could have just been another one-night stand to her. The pattern of friendship had continued with her until finally, they settled in what they were today. Pure torture.
He could see in her brown eyes that she wasn’t fully recovered from last night. He hadn’t seen what pill she’d swallowed or who had given it to her, but he had known what it was from its effects. Which had meant hours of keeping a close watch on her.
Looking at her now, he could see the coffee was helping. He figured once the food arrived, he would see those cloudy eyes clear completely.
He didn’t know what had caused the self-destruction in her. When they had first met, things hadn’t been this bad. Sure, they’d had some fun times, but nothing like it was now.
Almost every weekend she was hitting the clubs. He had made arrangements with Emily to keep an eye on her when she ended up at Sunset Strip. Even if he had an evening off, like he had last night, he found himself watching out for her.
Since Rafe was a TA in her current classes, Blaine had asked him about her grades. Rafe had assured him that she was still top of the class, which had settled his mind only slightly.
Her question was hanging at the forefront of his mind.
What was he saying? He knew that sometimes you had to get tough when fighting addiction. Was she an addict? He was pretty positive that she partook almost every weekend, but she was always in class bright and early and looking fresh every weekday. He knew that addiction could hide in plain sight and that a lot of addicts could be functional.
His father was proof of that.
Rodney Fisher was one mean son of a bitch no matter how much he drank.
Blaine had been the one to pay after his mother had been murdered when Blaine was thirteen. It seemed that his father had thrown all his pent-up frustration about being alone on his only son.
But his father held a steady high-profile job, worked out at the local gym five times a week, was a perfect neighbor and a practicing Christian, and even helped his church remodel homes for the elderly once a month. Yet behind locked doors, the man drank and beat his son every chance he got.
Which was the reason Blaine now sat three thousand miles away from his old man and had no plans to return to Seattle.
“Something has to change,” he finally said after the waitress took their orders.
Jamie was silent. Their eyes were locked, and he could see the pain behind hers, like always.
“I wish you’d let me in,” he said softly.
She shook her head, and he noticed that the pain disappeared quickly, as if she’d let her guard down by mistake and had replaced it. “I… don’t know what you mean.” She glanced away.
Reaching across the booth, he took her hand and felt her stiffen for just a moment.
“Jamie.” Her eyes turned back to his. “Forget last night. Like I said, nothing happened.” He leaned closer. “I’m your friend, no matter what.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Then why are you lying?”
He leaned back, dropping her hand. “About?”
“I saw the condom wrapper,” she whispered.
His eyebrows shot up and a slow smile formed on his lips.
“And?” He almost laughed it.
“I wouldn’t have…” She shook her head. “I always use protection.”
He laughed out loud this time, causing her temper to flare up. He could see it in her eyes.
“You’re the smartest person I know.” He crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned back in the chair. “But, at this moment, you’re telling me that the only reason there would be an empty condom package is that we had sex?”
“We were naked,” she hissed out.
“So?” He tilted his head and looked at her. “I always sleep naked. Don’t you?”
The look on her face caused him to laugh again.
“You’re telling me nothing happened?” she asked, uncertainty flooding her eyes.
“I didn’t say that.” He remembered everything they had done last night. Everything.
His only wish was that she’d been sober, and they had finished what they had started.
Her eyes searched his face. “Did we…”
He shook his head no and watched her visibly relax.
“Would it be so bad?” He tried not to feel hurt.
“No,” she answered too quickly while avoiding his eyes.
“Then why the concern?”
“Sex changes… things.”
At least she was being honest, he thought.
“Why?” he asked, needing to know her reasons.
“It just does.” She glanced around the room, still avoiding his eyes.
“It doesn’t have to.” He leaned closer. “You’ve heard the term friends with benefits?”
Her head snapped towards him, and her eyes narrowed. “I don’t think we could handle it.”
“Why? Aren’t you mature enough?” He knew he was pushing her, but he had to get to the root of why she was so adamant against being with him. Was she afraid she’d fall for him like he had for her? The possibility of it caused him to push her even more. “Don’t you trust me?”
“It’s not…” She shook her head. Just then, their food arrived.
He watched her and waited until they were once more alone. He knew she still wasn’t feeling one hundred percent, but he had to get answers before she recovered completely.
“Don’t you trust me?” he asked again after she took a forkful of her sugary waffle.
“Of course,” she said between bites. “You’re probably the only reason, along with Rafe and Emily, that I’m still here… in school, I mean.” Her eyes moved to avoid his once more, a telltale sign she was hiding something.
“Where would you be if not here?” he asked, trying to keep the worry from his voice.
She shrugged and took anothe
r bite. “DC maybe.”
He relaxed slightly.
“Back with your folks?” He knew her father was an elite doctor in DC, with clients that included a past president. Her mother had at one point been a top White House correspondent, but she’d left her job almost twenty years ago. When it came to blue blood in DC, Jamie’s family was near the top of the top.
“I always thought I’d follow in my mom’s footsteps. My father always hoped I’d go into medicine.” She took another bite. “He used to tell me that, ever since I was three, I’ve wanted to fix people’s aches.”
“Why didn’t you go into medicine?” he asked.
She chuckled. “I don’t have the stomach for it.”
“Bad time?” he asked.
“You could say that.” She rolled her eyes. “I usually pass out when I see blood.”
He nodded. “Vasovagal syncope is common.”
She sighed. “That and throwing up. My parents were disappointed, but…”
Hearing her talk about her parents made him jealous of her past life.
“You love them.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Don’t you love yours?” she asked.
For the first time in two and a half years, he realized they had never talked about their parents.
“My mom was murdered when I was thirteen,” he supplied.
“I’m sorry.” She set her fork down. He was pleased to note that she’d eaten half of the massive waffle. He’d been right—her eyes were no longer dull. He could even see the color of her skin grow warmer. She was always darker than him, but now, he could see pink in her cheeks.
“Why did I not know that?” She frowned.
He shrugged. “We haven’t really… talked.”
Her eyes ran over him. “What happened?”
“A man that worked for my father killed her.” He felt his chest tightening like it did every time he thought about how little he knew and remembered about that time of his life.
“Where you there?”
He shook his head. “No, I was at school. Dad was at work.” He felt his stomach roll and pushed his empty plate aside.
“What about your dad?” she asked.
Here is where things got…sticky.
“He’s…”
Jamie leaned closer, searching his eyes. “You don’t like him?”
“He’s a good man.” He decided not everything from his past needed to be out in the open.
Jamie tilted her head and looked at him. “We’ve known each other for a while now. I think I can tell when your bullshitting me.”
“You have your secrets… I have mine.”
She leaned back and sighed deeply. “Fair enough.” She rolled her shoulders. “The sugar has kicked in.” She glanced over at the beach. “Want to go for a walk?”
He glanced down at her skimpy dress and remembered there was nothing under the tight second skin. “If you’re up for it.” His mouth watered as he remembered what they had done last night.
Even if it wasn’t sex, they’d had fun. Just having her tight body against his had been enough to get him wishing and wanting more.
He threw a couple of twenties on the table and watched her get out of the booth, then followed her across the street.
When they reached the sand, she held onto his arm and pulled off the sexy stilettos she’d been wearing. As they made their way across the sand, several people turned and watched them.
He didn’t mind, since she was easily the sexiest woman on the beach. Jamie didn’t seem to mind the looks and pushed her shoes at his chest. She tied her long hair up in her standard two messy buns. Even now, she could easily have donned the cover of any magazine.
“What are you going to do after you get your MD?” she asked, taking her shoes from him as they started walking.
“If I’m lucky, I’ll head a little north. It really depends on where I get a job.” He thought about all the places he was considering, most of them on the East Coast. “What about you? You only have another year before you’re done with school.”
She shrugged. “I was thinking of changing my major.”
“Again?” He glanced towards her.
“Why not? I love learning. It seems to be the only thing I’m good at.”
He reached out and took her arm, stopping her from walking. Tugging lightly, he turned her towards him.
“Don’t do that.” He waited until her eyes moved up to his. “You’re the smartest person currently enrolled at UM, everyone knows it. You could do anything you want. You just have to decide what that is.”
“I used to know.” She sighed and he dropped his hands. Instead of walking, she sat down in the soft sand and pulled her legs up to her chest, dumping her shoes beside her.
He sat next to her and waited.
“I started almost four years ago, thinking I’d just wing it. Take a few classes, work on my diploma as I figured life out.” She glanced at him.
“What happened?” he asked.
Her eyes moved to the water, and he could tell she was thinking of something sad.
“Things change,” she said softly.
“What changed?”
Her eyes moved to his. “Everything. Needless to say, I no longer know what I want. Part of me no longer cares about the things I used to.” She glanced down at her shoes. “Like this…” She sighed as she picked them up. “There was a time when I didn’t blink an eye at spending a weekend shopping at expensive stores, using my parents’ money up without batting an eye.”
“Now?” he asked.
“It no longer holds the thrill it used to.” She set the shoes down again, discarded.
“Is that why you’ve turned to Molly?”
Her eyes moved to his and narrowed for a split second. “Something has to make me feel… alive.”
“Call it the almost five years of medical school talking, but Molly is what’s going to make you feel dead. Sooner or later.” He watched her reaction.
She shrugged and looked out over the water again. “It’s a Band-Aid.” It was as if she knew how dangerous it could be but didn’t care. He knew instantly there was something deeper motivating her.
“What’s the wound? Maybe it needs more than just a quick fix?” he suggested, wishing that she would open up to him.
She glanced at him again. “I’ll tell you my secret when you tell me yours.”
She meant it as a tease, but he didn’t mind. If this was his opening, he was going to take it. But an increasingly crowded beach wasn’t the place for a private discussion.
“What are your plans for Tuesday?” he asked, seeing that he’d thrown her off.
“Tuesday?”
“Sure. I work for the next few nights and since I don’t have classes on Tuesday and start late on Wednesday evening... I thought I’d take you someplace we can… expose our secrets in private.”
He watched her think about it. “Are you asking me out on a date?”
He chuckled. “You can call it whatever you want.” He stood up, dusted his shorts off, then reached down and helped her up from the soft sand. “Call it a therapy session for all I care. There will be food, friendship, and the opportunity to open up and spill whatever has you on the fast track to the dead lane.”
She chuckled and bent down to pick up her shoes. “Tuesday,” she agreed.
“I’ll pick you up early, say eight?” he said as they started walking back to his car. “Wear some shorts and no heels.” Her eyebrows shot up in question. “You might want to bring a light jacket too.”
“Where, exactly, is it that you’re taking me?”
“Yet one more surprise you’ll have to wait until Tuesday to find the answer to.” He opened the car door for her.
After driving in silence across town to her place, he watched her climb the stairs to her and Emily’s apartment. She stopped and waved back at him from their doorway and then disappeared inside.
Glancing at his watch, he estimated he had a few hours be
fore he had to head into work that night.
His first year of school, he’d struggled with making his bills, outside of what his father had paid for his first year of school. Shortly after friending Rafe, he had hatched a plan for an almost debt-free medical degree.
Getting jobs at Sunset Strip had been one of the best decisions they’d made. Most medical students either had wealthy parents who fronted the bills or they went completely into debt. His situation was much different.
So far, he and Rafe had made enough working four nights a week to not only stay on top of their school bills but also to afford the luxury condo and life they lived. The place didn’t belong to them, technically, but he’d worked out a deal with Karla, the owner, who didn’t mind keeping the pair of them in the luxurious place. Just as long as she got what she wanted from him.
But even that was changing. He’d hired Emily’s father to look into the details and draw up the papers to buy the place.
Karla had tried to fight him on it, since she had obviously found out about his recent financial changes. But, in the end, he’d stuck to his guns and with her financial problems coming to a boiling point, he was set to close on the condo in a few days.
He parked in his designated spot and climbed the stairs back up to his place. When he walked in, Rafe was freshly showered and working on his laptop, hanging out on the balcony.
“So?” His friend glanced over his laptop at him. “Wanna talk about the fact that Jamie came out of your room?” Rafe’s dark eyebrows wiggled up and down.
“Shut up.” He kept walking to his room.
The two roommates were polar opposites. Blaine had longer hair, a full beard, tan skin, and pale blue eyes. Rafe, on the other hand, always looked like he’d stepped out of a tanning bed and was clean-shaven. Almost militant. He was every part the surgeon he was trying to become, while Blaine enjoyed the fast pace of the ER and working with patients that were awake instead of lying on a table cut open.
Shutting the bedroom door behind him, he was instantly hit with the sexy scent of Jamie’s perfume.
How it lingered in his room was beyond him. Closing his eyes, he enjoyed the soft scent for as long as he could.