I lean across the table and pat Benji’s hand. “Don’t worry. You guys will get the money. I’m gonna make Jackson Tremaine pay.”
Decode the Man in Your Life
Chapter [10]: Men Aren’t Emotional
Correction: Men Are Emotional Kindergarteners
FOURTEEN
I pull up in front of Ronnie’s place. I’ve called a half dozen times today, and that many each of the last three days.
Fine. She won’t take my calls? Maybe she’s too polite to slam the door in my face. I press the doorbell. The damned bird’s squawking drowns out the chime.
Shayna opens the door. “Well, lookie here. The great Jackasshole Tremaine is gracing us with his presence.”
Great. “Hey, Shayna. How’s it going?”
“I don’t know, Tremaine. Why don’t you tell me?” She ushers me through the door with a sweep of her arm.
Her fiery red hair is wild and windblown. If she had her claws out, she’d look like a beautiful, if angry, witch.
Give that girl some space.
“So, is Ronnie here?”
The bird squawks and whistles. “Asshole. Jackass. Jackhole.”
I chuckle. “I see he’s learned some new words for me. Nice.”
Shayna glares as she backs into the kitchen. “Ronnie will be out in a minute.”
“Okay. Thanks. I appreciate it.”
She turns, mumbling under her breath. “Cum bucket.”
I sit on the couch. The bird does acrobatics in his cage while I wait.
And wait.
And wait.
A half-hour rolls by.
I wait some more.
Finally, Ronnie saunters into the living room. Her eyes widen and then narrow.
After a blink, her expression clears and she smiles. The sun comes out again, warming my life. “Jack, what a surprise to see you. How’ve you been?”
“I’m all right. Better now that I see you. Hey, you got the stitches out.”
She heads into the kitchen. “Took them out myself. Thanks, by the way. Doc did a great job. It barely made a tiny scar.”
I stand. “Shayna didn’t tell you I was here?”
She looks over her shoulder. “Nope. Sorry. Guess she got sidetracked.”
Sidetracked, my ass. “Well, I was just checking in. I haven’t seen or heard from you in a few days.”
She pulls her phone out of her back pocket. The pocket plastered to that amazing ass that I’ve missed having my hands on. My cock stirs.
Her eyebrows knit as she slides her finger across the screen. “Oh, look. You did call. Wow. Not sure how I didn’t see that.”
What the hell? “I was trying to call to ask if you want to go out.”
“Go out? As in tonight?”
I shrug. “Sure. I’ve got about three hours before I have to be on set.”
Ronnie twists a curl around her pinky, looking up at the ceiling. “Hmm. No. No can do. Tonight, I’m going out with Dave.”
“Dave? Dave the dud?”
“Actually—surprise of surprises—after I saw you last, he called. We went out. And what do you know? We found the thing we both really enjoy doing together.”
Really? “What’s that?”
“Sex.”
Sex? “Did you say sex?”
She grins, her eyes lighting up. “Yes. It surprised me too. But it’s amazing what happens when you give a man what he needs.”
“What he needs?” My words come back to kick me in the nads.
The world spins out of control.
“Yeah.” She tilts her head, her face going serious. “Thanks so much. That turned out to be some great advice. It made all the difference. I might actually have a chance in hell of winning this bet after all.”
“Wait. Hold up. So, Dave…the Dave and you had sex? Like intercourse?”
A sly smile steals over her features. “Well, at this point I just sucked him off. But he enjoyed it. And you know how I feel about that.”
My fists tighten. My chest boils. My jaw clenches.
I turn and walk away. I just—can’t—even.
That fucker. Using a beautiful young woman to get his rocks off, and he’s not even straight? Is he bi? Damn. I didn’t see that coming.
I walk outside.
As I open the door to my car, Ronnie sticks her head out of the front door. “Thanks for stopping by. Rain check on the date?”
I can’t even speak, so I lift my fingers in a half wave.
I pour myself another glass of whiskey, chugging it and taking in the burn. “I mean, I watched every single minute of video we have from their dates. Nothing. I saw nothing that looks like an overture from Dave.”
Bax shrugs. “She turn off the camera?”
“Fuck if I know.” I slam my tumbler down on the glass table.
Bax’s half-open lids widen, but only for a moment.