I've been doodling in my notebook, with some random bits of info written here and there. I read them over now.
Battering rams were BIG.
Pull back, and then slam into door.
Ram head replaced by that of a WOLF's-Tolkien lore?
What did I mean by all that? And why is my face getting warm, and my insides clenching? It's just that … for some reason, reading the words all I can see in my mind is Jarett in that back alley, that smirk on his handsome face and that bulge in his jeans, his hard-on so prominent. Obvious. Big. Like a battering ram.
God. I rub at my flushed cheeks. How can I still want him, after what he said, that sleazy proposal he made me? He knew I'd refuse. But that wasn't all. He did it on purpose. He made me feel humiliated, cheapened, when he could have just said no.
Though he did say no.
"I'm not capable of taking care of more people."
He never explained what he meant.
I look down and find that my doodles have looped around a word on the page. His name. I've written his name in the center of the page, inside a tangle of thorns and ravens and bloody roses.
Awesome.
I'm sick. I keep finding excuses for him. So he said no, and some cryptic comment. But instead of discussing it like a normal person, he propositioned me. Help Syd in exchange for sucking his dick. Who does that?
An answering throb starts between my legs.
I drop my head on the desk. Unbelievable. Just goes to show that lust has nothing to do with intelligence. I'm not stupid. But my body is.
They say love is blind. Well, if love is blind, then lust is stupid. A total slut.
Makes me crave a guy I shouldn't want.
And my memory keeps replaying the times he was nice to me, so that I can't stop myself from wanting to find out more about him, find out what happened in the time I lost track of him-and before that. Before I met him.
All those rumors that were circulating about him, were any of them true?
Funny how my throat closes at the thought. Those rumors were pretty hardcore. Over the top.
Nah, I bet his childhood was nothing like that. This isn't a movie.
Still, it makes me all the more curious to know. To understand him, understand what put that core of steel in him, that hardness in his eyes, in his words. What planted that metal seed that's been growing branches, covering him in impenetrable armor. A cruel seed that's been changing him from the inside out.
I shouldn't have left the bar to talk to him.
I shouldn't have asked for his help.
I shouldn't have considered his words for a second.
No matter how hot he is.
Oh God, the professor is still talking. Turning my notepad sideways, I doodle a cocktail glass and a bottle.
That's it. The bar. Merc said Jarett works at this bar nearby. I could drop by and ask a few questions.
What was the name of the place again? Something to do with ass. Ass end?
Tight End. That's the one. I've passed in front of it a few times, never paid it much attention. Sydney usually chooses the bars and clubs when we go out-and now I guess I know why, if she chooses them according to their drug selection and not how hot the guys hanging out there are. Like the frat party she wants us to attend tomorrow.
And although I want to refuse to go with her, I know I can't. Especially not now that I know why she's going.
God, Syd … She's in this mess, and Jarett is not who I thought he was, either. I never saw any of it coming.
Thing is, I never see anything coming. What happened in Destiny, then finding Jarett only to lose him. Lose him and find him again, on the night I saw Sydney in that alley with a drug dealer.
Just goes to show. I drop my pen on the desk and pull my hair out of my face, knotting it quickly on top of my head. I mean, what do I know, in the end?
Something? Nothing?
Much less than I thought I did, that's for sure.
The bar is quiet and dim as I step inside and let the door close at my back. I take a deep breath. Wipe my hands on my skirt.
I stood outside for ages, ridden by doubt, before I mustered my courage and entered. This isn't like me, to be so nervous, scared of something as trivial as checking out a bar and asking a few questions.
Then again, it was always different where Jarett was concerned. My bravado always deserted me when it came to him. Everything around him felt … important.
More important than anything else in my silly little life, and I won't start thinking about how empty it felt after we moved and I lost contact with him.
Because that'll only serve to scare me more.
I'm only here to satisfy my curiosity, I tell myself, find out anything I can about Jarett, because … because …
I just want to know. Could be because he was such an ass to me last time, I decide as I advance toward the back where the bar is, a dark, polished affair with dim Christmas strings of lights hanging behind, over the shelves with the drinks. He changed.
Right? He totally did. He was a quiet loner when I met him, not an arrogant jerk. I mean, I would have noticed. I would have known. I wouldn't have handed my heart-
"What will you have?" The man has dark hair and wide shoulders, and for a moment my heart actually frigging stops.
Oh God.
But then I realize it's not Jarett. Finding him here was a very real possibility, which I somehow failed to consider. Of all the brilliant, thought-out plans …
"A beer?"
"Are you asking me?" He gives me an easy grin.
I lick my dry lips. "A Bud."
"You got it."
He's handsome, I notice as I settle on a stool, stashing my backpack at my feet and placing my purse on the bar. Attractive in an older, darker sort of way.
Older and darker than Jarett, and I really have to stop doing this. Comparing every guy I see to Jarett.
It's not healthy.
Especially since there's never been anything between us. I thought we were friends once, but even that turned out to be a lie.
The bartender slides the Bud in front of me, and I wipe the mouth before I take a sip. "Is it always so empty in here?"
He chuckles. "Nah. Soon it will fill up. You came just in time to get a good spot at the bar."
Ah. I take another sip of beer. "This place hasn't been around long. I know all the bars around the campus."
"Opened a few months ago." He wipes the bar down, and leans over it. "I'm David, by the way."
"Gigi."
His brows arch. "Interesting name. Short for what?"
I open my mouth to tell him, but find myself oddly reluctant. "Just Gigi," I mutter.
"Fair enough." He shrugs and turns away to cut some limes and cucumber slices on a board. "So how did you end up here?"
"Well, I heard an old friend of mine works here, so … I came to see if the rumors are true."
All the rumors, new and old. But can this guy help me?
"What's his name?"
"Jarett."
"You're friends with J? That's a first."
"What do you mean?"
He finishes cutting up the limes and throws them into a bowl, then does the same with the cucumber slices. "I just never met any friends of his."
My heart sinks. "You don't know him well."
"Nobody knows J well, sugar. He keeps mostly to himself." He turns around, gives me an assessing look. "I take it he's not expecting you to show up here."
I shrug. "It's complicated."
"Isn't it always?" He sighs. "So why are you here, then, if not to meet him?"
"Just grabbing a beer." I take a swig, to demonstrate. "And to see where he works."
"Ah-huh." He folds his arms on the bar. "Ask away."
"Ask what?"
"The questions you came here to ask. I can't give you his number, just FYI. I should always start with that."
I realize I'm gaping. "You make it sound like girls come here all the time to ask for Jarett's number."
He tsks. "Only every other day."
Oh crap. My plan officially sucks. I so didn't need to know that. "So … "
"No, he doesn't have a girlfriend. No, he's not gay. Yes, he has an address. No, I can't give it to you. Yes, he works here." He stops. I wonder what my face looks like. "Did I cover your questions, or was there something else?"
Wait … Is that pity in his eyes? Jesus. I feel sick.
"Look." I prepare to jump off the stool and make my escape. "That's not why I'm here, okay? I knew Jarett years ago, and lost track of him. I just wanted to reconnect."
"Sure." David straightens, his gaze raking over me. "Lucky son of a bitch. All the pretty girls are after him."
Suddenly, I don't like this David all that much anymore. "Listen, asshole. Forget it, okay? I'll be on my way." I fish out my wallet and push some bills on the bar. "Have yourself a good night."
"Hey."
I'm already off the stool and heading toward the exit, furious with David, and furious with Jarett. All the girls asking about him, huh? Wanting his number. Wanting to know if he has a girlfriend.
Bitches. How could they … ? And even worse, how does he … ?
Know what? Never mind. Asking questions. What was I thinking? This is stupid. What would they know about him here, anyway?