She told me about her week and I could see why she was as hungry as I was. We were both running on fumes with work and classes. At least there was an end in sight. Spring break was next week and things would slow down for ten glorious days. Tabby and Noah were going to Mexico, so I wouldn't have to talk to anyone or even leave the house if I didn't want to. I wondered about my neighbor.
"Are you going anywhere for spring break?" I asked her, finding myself hopeful that she'd be around.
"Just the shelter," she said. "Well, if my boss will let me. She's trying to get me some time off since it's been so crazy the past few months."
"Have you been there for a while?" I couldn't help the cop in me coming out.
"A few years, since Gloria took it over," she said in between bites.
That's right, I read about the new owner. I hated ruining the taste of my meal with all this work stuff, but I wanted to know.
"The place on Cleveland, right?"
She nodded.
"It's pretty run down," I blurt like an idiot.
"Well, you don't mince words, do you?" She took a huge bite of her bread. "Actually, I have a friend with a foundation who's going to help out with that."
Fuck, I hated the way she said friend.
"You're used to getting what you want, aren't you?" Again, I had no filter. But she didn't seem to be bothered, so I continued. I needed to know more about what made her tick.
"How so?" She sat up straight, setting her fork down.
"On campus, your minions follow you around, hanging on every word you say. And the guys follow, dropping at your feet. You have a dog in a pet-free complex, and your apartment is much nicer than mine with a bunch of new shit that doesn't resemble any of the units I looked at in this building. And now, you say you have a friend who's going to take care of the animal shelter where you work."
Her eyes grew wide.
Shit, someone needed a brush up on his interrogation skills because he was fucking this right up. And thinking in the third person wasn't helping matters.
Grilling Jenna this way, wasn't going to give me the answers I was looking for.
"Been watching me, have you?" she asked, now painting a bored look on her face.
"Maybe a little."
"Well, don't believe everything you see." She pushed away her plate, and my chest hurt, knowing I'd made her lose her appetite. Why couldn't I just leave things alone?
Because you want her, that's why.
It was true, and maybe I was looking for some justification for the feelings that were igniting under the surface.
"So tell me how it is, then," I challenged.
"Okay," she continued, looking more engaged now. "I hang out with the minions on campus because I don't have real friends, okay? And I don't want to be alone. It's easy with them. Like attracts like, and you know what they say, once a mean girl..."
She turned away, and Oscar came to sit by her side. Without looking, she reached down to pet him.
"And the guys?" I pushed.
"I had a few missteps after my brother died, maybe you heard about that from Tabby or Noah?"
I nodded. They had filled me in on more than I needed to know, and suddenly it felt like such an invasion of privacy. Tabby was only trying to protect me from Jenna, or maybe, protect herself, but it still didn't feel right.
"The accident was my fault," Jenna said, and I understood that guilt more than she knew.
"Accidents aren't anyone's fault," I said. "That's why they're called accidents."
She shook her head, not wanting to hear that. "I know what you're trying to do, I've been to enough shrinks. And I've come to terms with a lot of it, but the simple fact is that I should've stayed sober and drove us home instead of letting my little brother do it. I've learned since then that my mistake doesn't mean I'm a worthless human being, but I do need to take responsibility for my role in his death."
"That sounds surprisingly healthy."
"Don't get me wrong, I have bad days." She laughed, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Once I came back to school, I didn't really care about anything other than finding ways to escape, even for a little while. So I had a few one-night-stands, and that's all it took to get a reputation. At the time, it didn't matter to me because I was so numb. But sometimes-actually most of the time-I didn't even sleep with the guy, but he still needed his story."
The blood started boiling under my skin. And the more Jenna talked, the more similar her story sounded to Tabby's. How was I the only person who saw it?
My voice softened then, feeling that same overprotective streak slicing through me. Though that's where the Tabby/Jenna similarities ended. At least where my feelings were concerned.
Jenna made my blood boil, and had every hair on my body standing on edge. She was this heat. This awareness. And I hated, hated, that she'd been used.
"And now?" I couldn't stop the fucking interrogation because I needed to know how badly she was still hurt. I needed to know if there was a chance for more. There was something between us that I couldn't shake, and hell if the past week had helped matters. No, it only intensified the feelings. The thoughts. Shit, the way she invaded my brain whenever I was trying to alleviate the pressure behind my fly.
"Now, I try to keep things simple and fun," she said. "No strings, I am not into relationships."
I couldn't tell if that was a warning or an invitation. She'd been ready to say yes when I asked her to show me around the neighborhood that first day, I know she had. And hey, I was the king of simple and fun, no strings.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked, practically stumbling over her words. And Jenna didn't stumble.
I was happy to know that I had an effect on her as well.
"I think you know," I told her, not changing the expression on my face.
I knew damn well what she was seeing. Pure want. Pure need. Good. She should finally know what she was doing to me.
"I thought you didn't like coy, Michael?"
Okay, so the snark was back-the Jenna I'd come to know. This was all her, the real her, without all the pretense, the clothes and hair, and presentation. And I'd take the understated Jenna any day of the week. The natural face with that porcelain skin that made her look younger, more innocent, that she was. The pert nose and those calculating eyes, but now they weren't so much calculating as they were careful-considering our situation. And yes, it sure as shit was a situation.
One we'd take care of one way or another.
Chapter Nine
Jenna
I think you know.
That's what he said to me when I asked why he was staring. I think you know. His eyes were black, his expression edging on threatening, and I'd practically gone into heat.
Oscar looked over at me and shook his head.
The air was crackling with tension, the rush of energy bouncing off the walls with nowhere to go. My heartrate kicked up to my aerobic training zone-the sweet spot in running, where my breathing was comfortably hard, but I could hold the pace for a long time. I would not crumble just because I had a hot guy in my apartment who may or may not have been interested in making a move on me.
I pushed the last of my lasagna around my plate, unable to eat another bite. When I glanced up from the noodle carcass, Michael's eyes had lightened a little and I wondered if the moment had passed. I certainly wasn't going to poke that hornet's nest-someone could get hurt. By someone I meant me, so I put my mask back on.
"You eat like a linebacker," I said, moving on to a safer topic.
"I was so hungry, you don't even know." He moved the napkin off his lap and placed it on the table before he began shredding it.
Lucky napkin.
I searched my repertoire of witty innuendo, flipping through all of those comebacks I was known for, and got nothing. Nothing. I was so incredibly out of practice at this, and I rarely spent time with someone who mattered. As much as I hated to admit it, I cared about what this guy thought, and that was a dangerous position to be in. With Michael, I didn't think I could ever be on my A game. With him, I had a feeling that there'd be no games at all.
He'd notice. He noticed everything. The two sides of me. The girl who had to be perfect and untouchable. And the me who was trying so hard to start over, but was always prepared to run away if I had to.
But I didn't want to run away anymore. I wanted to run toward something for a change.
Michael had become important to me. I don't know why or how, but he did. Being around him made me feel like I was getting away with something-something extra that I wasn't supposed to have.
Whenever I passed him a dish, the back of my fingers brushed the front of his. That ghost of a touch was more than I'd felt from another human being in so long, and my reaction was visceral. The connection ignited a fire inside, burning low in my belly.
From the destruction of his napkin to the wickedness of his eyes, he wasn't in any better shape than I was. We both tried-unsuccessfully-to ignore it.
Silence swelled in the room as Michael watched me and I watched him. The evening was ending. We both knew our time was almost up. This was a stolen moment and one we probably shouldn't repeat. It seemed like he was reluctant to go, but I couldn't tell if that was just my wishful thinking. I was definitely reluctant to let him leave.