Silence.
“He’s just in some trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“Jenna.”
I look up and find his eyes zeroed in on me like a hawk facing off a predator. “What?”
“Why are you prying?” he asks.
I lift a brow. “Why are you being so secretive?”
“Because my family shit doesn’t concern you.” He doesn’t say it in a mean way, but his words still sting.
“But it concerns you,” I say, then quietly add, “And you concern me.”
He scans my face. “Do I?”
A thick warmth has suddenly entered the room and I shift in my chair to accommodate it as it licks around my body.
“Yes,” I say with a single nod. “I care about you. A lot.”
Too much.
His eyes are still studying me so I look away with a short exhale.
“Whatever’s going on with your brother is obviously weighing on you and stressing you out.” I shrug. “Maybe if you told me what it was you wouldn’t feel so… heavy.”
He shakes his head. “Trust me, you don’t want any part of what I’m dealing with.”
I harden my features. “And if I did want some kind of part in… whatever it is you’re dealing with?”
His eyes darken. “I would do everything in my power to keep you out of it.”
We stare at one another for several seconds, confusion and frustration pouring from my side of the table. What in the hell has him so angry and fierce?
“I need a smoke,” he says, abruptly standing from the table.
He slips out the door without looking back and I stare at my to-go cup of iced tea, the knots in my stomach returning with more fervor than before.
Jack only smokes when he feels out of control. He only smokes when he’s unsure, or doesn’t trust himself.
He only smokes when he feels like he’s failing.
And here I am, feeling like I’ve disappointed him so greatly that I’ve now forfeited my rights to care about him, and I can’t help but feel like a failure as well.
10
Jack
Three cigarettes later, I return to our room and quietly step inside. Every light is off except the small lamp on the table and Jenna’s shadow seems to be sleeping in the next bed over.
“How was your smoke?” Jenna says into the darkness, clearly not asleep.
I sigh, emptying my pockets on the lit table. “Don’t start.”
Jenna’s never been a fan of smoking, or smokers, and has made that clear to me on several occasions. And while I’ve pretty much quit, with a few rare exceptions, she still sneers when I light up.
I hear her sheets rustle and chance a glance in her direction. The glow from the lamp is enough to cast the lines of her pretty face in a soft yellow light.
“I don’t give a damn if you smoke,” she says, running her cat eyes over my face.
I unzip my bag and pull out a clean shirt before meeting her eyes. “Then why are you looking at me like that?”
She tilts her head. “Because I’m worried.”
I scoff and head for the bathroom. “I would have guessed worrying about others went against your plan.”
I don’t know why I’m poking at her. Jenna’s not the one I’m mad at right now. I’m angry with myself. With the situation back home that I can’t control. With all the wrong decisions I’ve made in my life. Not the pretty girl in the motel bed who refuses to love me out loud.
Turning on the sink, I pull off my smoky shirt and toss it on the counter before bending down to rinse my face. The cold water feels good against my skin. Clean. Fresh. When I straighten back up, Jenna’s standing right beside me with a hand on her hip and a mean scowl on her face.
“You don’t have to be an asshole,” she says.
“About your plan?” I blink. “Yes, I do.” My pulse rises like I’m preparing for a fight.
“Why?” She huffs.
“Because that fucking plan of yours is the reason you won’t admit that what happened between us wasn’t just sex.”
She steps back and lifts her hands. “I can’t do this with you right now.”
“Fine by me,” I say, going back to the sink. “You never can, anyway.”
God, I really am an asshole. But even so, the fact that she can’t engage in an honest conversation about us offends me.
I hear her scoff before she climbs back into her bed and pretends to fall asleep.
Jenna’s ridiculous, yet predictable reaction to being asked about us plays on repeat in my mind and I inwardly sigh. I thought if I played it cool for a few months and didn’t push the subject, Jenna would come back around, and we could eventually have a grown-up conversation about things. I knew it wouldn’t be fast or easy—nothing with Jenna is—but I didn’t foresee how painful it would be to sit idly by in the meantime, watching her hook up with other guys and stick to her “plan.”