by Stacy Wise
“Hey, Jess.” He releases Leo onto the floor and plucks an apple from the fruit bowl.
“Good morning.” I resume reading emails. Even though I’m reading them word for word, if he were to ask, I wouldn’t be able to tell him what they’re about. My mind is stuck on the image of him in his navy blue towel.
He sits on the floor next to Leo and offers him an apple slice. “Eat it slowly, buddy. There’s plenty.” Leo climbs into his lap, eager to get more fruit. Jack laughs. “You’re such a clown, but I love you,” he says as he gives him the last of the apple.
He stands and faces me. “So you took off pretty quickly last night. I looked up and you were gone.”
Because I didn’t want to witness any scary stuff going down. “Yeah. I wasn’t planning on hanging out.” I look at his towel and marvel that it’s not sliding from his hips.
As if reading my mind, he unwraps it and drapes it across the bench at the kitchen table. His swim trunks are bright orange with black sharks on them. “Yeah. I didn’t know you were staying at all.” He pauses, and I meet his eyes. “I hit up Zoe when you were serving the cake. I couldn’t figure out what happened to the other girls.” He pauses. “That was cool of you.”
“No problem,” I say. “It was your big night. I didn’t want to see it go up in flames, so to speak.”
“Thanks.” He sits on the bench across from me. “It turned out great.”
“Even the candy sticks?” Shit. I didn’t mean to ask him. But he’s sitting near me all slick and shirtless—it’s hard to focus. And anyway, as much as I don’t want to know, I need to. I’ve already decided that if he is a total druggie, I’ll quit.
He sets his glass on the table and runs a hand across his mouth. “You knew about that?”
“Yeah.” I twist my hair into a bun, only to take it down again.
He runs a hand across his chest before yanking a wrinkled black T-shirt over his head. “How’d you know?”
“Because Jordan invited me to smoke them with him.”
“Are you into that?”
“No!” I say a little too forcefully. Knowing I have to tread lightly, I add, “I don’t judge. I won’t say anything, if you’re worried about that.”
His eyes meet mine, bluer than ever. If I didn’t know better, I’d say they almost look glassy. But I’m sure it’s just from the chlorine. “When I found out Paul had it on him, I told him to take it elsewhere. That shit isn’t welcome in my house. Ever.” He moves abruptly from the table and pulls a pan from a kitchen cupboard, setting it on the counter with a clank.
“Oh. Okay. Good.” A nervous laugh trickles from my lips. “When Jordan mentioned it, I had no idea what he was talking about, and then, when he explained, I started to feel all nervous because it made me think I’d see stuff I really don’t want to see.” I pause, waiting for him to respond. When he doesn’t, I rush to say, “Sorry. That whole scene freaks me out. I don’t mean to sound like a prude.”
“You don’t.” He whips open the refrigerator. “I’m making eggs. Do you want some?”
“No, I’m good. Thanks.”
“Sit with me while I eat, then. I want to talk to you about a few things before I have to go to set. Make some coffee if you want. Use the Nespresso.”
“Okay. Thanks. You want one?”
“Sure. A single shot with milk would be great.”
I busy myself filling the container with milk. Some sloshes onto the counter, and I grab a sponge to clean it up. My fingers are butter today. Hopefully the caffeine from the latte will kick in before I spill anything else. I rinse the sponge and resume my barista efforts. Different scenarios pop through my mind as I attempt to figure out what Jack wants to discuss.
It has to be Tabitha. She knows I let Brittany in, and she probably tattled since I screwed up her cocktail.
Jack is already seated with a plate full of scrambled eggs when I bring his latte to him.
“Thanks for making this.”
“You’re welcome.” I pause. “I’m sorry I let Brittany in last night, but she had to use the bathroom. I didn’t mean to upset Tabitha.”
A confused look covers his face. “What are you talking about?”
“When I let Tabitha’s assistant in to use the restroom? I assumed that’s what you wanted to discuss. It didn’t seem like a big deal, but then Tabitha was kind of rude, and I thought maybe I broke a rule that I wasn’t aware of.”
Jack shakes his head as he chews. “I had no idea, but I’m not surprised. Tab’s a piece of work.” He pauses. “I wanted to talk to you about Jordan.”
Hearing Jack say his name makes my cheeks flush red. He’s the last person I want to talk about. “What do you want to know?”
“Well, you obviously have some sort of history with him, and I’m not asking about that, but Renee wants him involved in her project, and I got a bad feeling. What are your thoughts on the guy?” He polishes off the last of his eggs and looks at me, his eyes curious.
My mouth goes dry. Swallowing would help, but I suddenly can’t seem to get a handle on how to do it. I take a too big gulp of coffee and burn my tongue. “Ouch. That’s hot.” I pause, covering my mouth with my hand, and clear my throat. “You got a bad feeling?”
“Yeah. Am I right?”
I sigh, and the whoosh of air cools my tingling tongue. “I’ll just say he can’t be trusted.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Care to elaborate?”
“Remember the day planner with the list of girls’ names I looked at? It was Jordan’s.”
Jack leans back and nods, a pensive look crossing his face. He starts to say something, but stops, swiping a hand across his mouth. It makes me uncomfortable, and I rush to explain.
“I hated reading it, but I couldn’t stop myself. It was awful. It made me realize he was only using me to get to Aunt Marnie. I’m just glad I never slept with him.” Oh my God. I slap my hand over my mouth and squeeze my eyes shut. “Pretend you didn’t hear any of that. Please. I’m sure you wanted to know if he’s a hard worker and shows up on time.”
“I didn’t hear that,” he says. “It’s fine. We all have our stories.” He takes his plate into the kitchen and sets it in the sink before returning to the table. “So, in your opinion, would Jordan work hard and show up on time?” he asks with a slight grin.
“Honestly, I don’t have any idea. Maybe he’s different on set than in his social life.”
Jack pauses, thinking. “Could be. But I’ve found if someone acts like an ass in his personal life, he’s usually an ass all around. And I get that you don’t want to talk about it, but just know I can relate.”
The sincerity on his face makes me hesitate, lost for words. My mouth takes over for my brain and I mutter, “You can?”
“Yeah. The industry is full of assholes. They don’t give a shit if they hurt someone.”
“He didn’t hurt me.” My voice comes out in a snap.
Jack shakes his head and smiles. “You suck at lying.”
I press my forehead to the table and take a breath before looking up at him again. “Touché. I wish I had been smarter about it. I swear, he said all the right things and made me feel like I was special.” I twirl my mug in front of me, making slow circles with it on the table. “But he didn’t mean any of it.”
Jack meets my eyes. “The guy sounds like an idiot on a number of levels.”
“Yeah. I guess the one good thing is that I learned my lesson: trust no one.”
He raises a brow at me. “I thought that was my vibe.”
“Your vibe is more of a ‘push people away before you have the chance to trust them’ thing.”
“Maybe you’re right. Safer that way.” He stands. “I need to get to set. I’ll text you later if I need you to bring anything to me. And Jess?”
“Yeah?”
“I know about the cake, too. It was the best part of the meal.”
A smile I can’t contain spreads across my mouth. “Thanks. It means a lot.”
>
He grabs his towel from the bench and leaves the kitchen. I call Leo over and kneel to pet him. “Why is it every time I think I have an idea of who Jack is, he acts sweet and confuses me? It’s so much easier to think he’s an asshole,” I whisper to Leo. “You’ve got it easy,” I say, patting his back. I turn when I hear Jack. Geez. I wonder how long he was standing here.
He clears his throat and says, “I left my phone out here somewhere.”
I see it on the table and stand to pass it to him. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” He moves over to where Leo is and kneels down to rub his back. “I wish you could talk, buddy,” he whispers. I know he didn’t intend for me to hear, but I did. I wish I could drop everything and bake a fudge torte right now.
Chapter Fourteen
The only good thing that resulted from my run-in with the guys at the coffeehouse was getting back in touch with my sorority sisters. I’d been stalling about letting them know I didn’t go to France because I didn’t want to relive the disappointment by telling the story over and over.
But it is what it is, and I’m still in town, so I might as well enjoy a social life. I’ve decided to go to the Halloween party at the Sig house tonight.
I’m dressing up as Lara Croft, which isn’t so bad. I don’t exactly love costumes, but as things go, I’d rather be a badass than a sexy nurse, or a butterfly with cleavage. The best part is that it’s comfortable—shorts, a tank, gloves, leg straps, and chunky high-top combat boots.
When I reach the sorority house, my two best friends from school, Leah and Kolbi, usher me in like I’m a movie star. I get caught up in the excitement and allow the girls to fuss over my costume. They insist Leah should do my makeup.
She dabs at my face with a powder brush, making my nose tickle. “Keep still,” she says. “I don’t want to mess up.”
Kolbi laughs as she lines her lips. “What do you think, Jess? Is there a guy from last year you’re excited to see tonight?”
“Not Tyler, that’s for sure. Other than that, I don’t know. I’m open.”
“You should’ve seen him in action the first week of school. He was creeping on all the freshman girls.”
Leah steps back from me, inspecting my eyes. She dabs a makeup sponge at my lash line. “Looking good, Jess. Speaking of guys, have you met any movie stars working for your aunt?”
My face burns.
“Oh my God! You’re totally blushing. You have a story. Spill it, sister.”
My mind scrambles to find an appropriate response. “Uh, not blushing, just annoyed. I saw Jordan Kennedy at an event I had to work.”
“Ugh. That guy,” Kolbi utters. “Well, maybe you’ll get to meet someone cool. I saw Jack McAlister interviewed a few weeks ago on some entertainment show. Talk about hot.”
I check Kolbi in the mirror, trying to weigh if she knows something. But her mouth hangs open in the classic mascara application pose, nonchalant. “Yeah, he’s hot,” I say, keeping my voice emotionless. “So is Trevor Westin. Did you guys see him in Catch Fall?”
They grab the bait and dive into a debate about which scene was better, the shirtless rock-climbing scene or the jewelry heist. Jack would probably cringe at the way they deconstruct Trevor Westin. Leah does a final sweep of my cheeks with a blush brush and swivels me to the mirror. “Voilà! You’re set.”
I’m shocked. My eyes have never looked this color. They’re usually plain old light hazel. But now they’re a pale gold, and they look so… It’s hard to say this about myself, but they look sexy. She somehow managed to give me a smoky, come-hither look.
“Very hot, Jess! The boys are going to be all over you tonight,” Kolbi says. “The tall boots with the short shorts are really working for me. The bandages are a great touch. Very realistic.”
If only she knew. My cuts are healing, but even after almost two weeks, the road rash looks gross and scabby enough to warrant keeping it covered. “Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself.”
She grins. It’s an understatement, and she knows it. She could be Beyoncé’s sister, with her golden skin and beautiful doe eyes. Her ridiculously long legs peek out of the up-to-here slit in her Greek goddess gown.
We head to the fraternity house, a pack of witches, goddesses, vampires, and the token badass. Leah, dressed as a cute witch with her curly red hair piled high on her head, links an arm through mine. “It’s been a while since your last party. You remember the rules, right?”
“Yep. Don’t accept drinks from anyone except a sister and use the buddy system.”
“Good.”
“Are the Sigs pretty cool this year? I’ve always thought of them as the nicer guys, compared to the Delts.”
“Yeah, they are,” Kolbi says. “But you never know, especially with costume parties. People seem more daring when they’re dressed up. We’ll have a blast. We just need to keep an eye out for each other.”
“Cool.” We stroll along, arms linked, on the way to my first party of the school year. Being back in my old life energizes me, and I feel a new burst of confidence. Maybe it has to do with reconciling the disappointment of having to cancel my trip, or maybe it’s knowing I can handle so much more than I ever imagined after my days with Jack. Then again, maybe part of it is my tough-girl boots. Whatever the case, it’s going to be a great night.
Spooky music blasts from the fraternity house. The guys have gone all out in decorating the yard with cobwebs, tombstones, and scary jack-o-lanterns. A few scattered mummies hang upside-down in the old tree that stands in front of the house. We walk through the door, and a guy dressed as Dracula hands us cups of something he calls poison punch. So much for us not accepting drinks from anyone but a sister.
“Welcome, ladies.” He sounds more like a surfer than Dracula.
Another guy, dressed as Sully from Monsters University, pops out from behind a chair. “Rrroar!” I jump, sloshing poison punch out of my red cup. “Hope I didn’t scare you!”
“Ugh. What a goof,” Kolbi says. “Let’s check things out.” We set our bags on a bench near the kitchen. I kind of hate leaving my purse out for anyone to steal, but then, it’s not like I have anything all that valuable in it. I grab my phone and send a quick text to Meg, letting her know I’ll be home late, and slide it into my pocket. We reach the back of the house where a dance floor is set up and squeeze our way to the center. The pulsing beat of the music makes it so we have to shout to hear one another. A guy dressed as Captain Jack Sparrow bumps into me as he takes Kolbi’s arm, causing me to dump more poison punch. It trickles down my leg, leaving a red trail. I brush it off and wipe my hands down my shorts. Everyone is bouncing with the beat, throwing their arms in the air and laughing. I suddenly feel self-conscious and dorky, trying to dance in my clunky boots while holding an empty plastic cup. I spilled more than I drank—most of it on myself—and now I smell like a bar.
I grab Leah’s arm and shout into her ear. “I’m hitting the bathroom.”
Getting through the mass of moving bodies proves to be a challenge. With my arms close to my chest, I plunge past zombies, football players, and sexy cats, in search of the bathroom. I pull open the first door I see at the end of a hallway, but it’s a bedroom. It looks like someone spilled half a box of Cheerios down the center of the room and decided it’d be easier to crunch them into the carpet rather than vacuum. A heap of dirty clothing is lumped near the window. The two twin beds are unmade, and a stiff bath towel sits unnaturally on one of them. As I close the door, I imagine Jack’s reaction to this room. He probably wouldn’t allow Leo to live in this squalor.
“You want a private tour?” a voice slurs behind me.
I turn to see a stocky guy dressed as Batman. “No, I’m good, thanks. Just looking for a bathroom.” His eyes and nose are covered by a black mask, and I doubt I’d be able to recognize him if I saw him walking down the street.
He stumbles toward me and emits a noise that sounds dangerously like a burp. Disgusting. As I turn to leave, he li
nks a finger through my belt loop, yanking me back. “You don’t want to see the Batcave? You don’t know what you’re missing.”
Chill bumps spring on my arms. His sour breath fills my nostrils, and I know I need to get away. “Well, Batman,” I say coolly, “as tempting as your offer is, I’m going to pass.” I twist away from the hold he has on my shorts and flee down the hall.
His cape swishes behind me, and his beefy hand grabs my wrist. “I thought Lara Croft was taller,” he whispers into my ear. “Are you her sexy little sister?”
I whip around, causing him to lose hold of me, and bang my hurt elbow on the wall in the process. Oh, hell. Fiery needles of pain shoot through my arm. I look at the bandage and see it’s turning red with a small circle of blood. Great. I’m sure I whacked the scab right off.
“Whoa! You’re bleeding. Do you want me to find a doctor?” he slurs.
“Seriously? It’s just a little cut.” As much as I hate to see my own blood, it really is a tiny spot—nothing like it once was.
“You’re not gonna cry?”
“No, I’m not going to cry,” I snap.
“Wow. Are you a lesbian?”
“Yes. Yes, I am. Did the boots give me away?” What an idiot. I consider stomping on his foot, but the ringing of my phone stops me. I grab it from my pocket and turn from Batman.
Even with my back turned, he won’t take the hint. “Is your girlfriend calling you?”
I glare at him and glance at my phone. I don’t recognize the number, but I answer it anyway, just to have an excuse to ignore the creep. “Hello?”
“Jessica?”
I’m surprised to hear a guy’s voice. “Yeah.” Batman puts his hands on my hips and starts swaying with me. I jerk away from him and mouth, Stop it!
“It’s Jack. Did you take my phone with you? I can’t find it.”
Batman grabs for my phone like a bratty child. I raise my arm to keep it from him, and drop it in the process. Shit.