“I think you underestimate my ability to accept you, Jay, even your bad bits.”
“You can’t say that, Matilda. You can’t say that until you know everything.”
“Will you ever tell me?”
“Yes, I plan on telling you it all. You just need to wait. Please wait.”
We stare at each other for what feels like forever. He needs me to wait, and there’s a desperation in his plea that makes me want to do that for him. My feelings for him are so strong that I want to put my trust in him and let him tell me when he decides the time is right. So, with a small nod, I show him that I’m prepared to do things his way. His breath leaves him in a relieved rush. I won’t question him until it’s time for him to give me the answers.
I believe myself to be patient. I also believe that some things are worth waiting for, and Jay is certainly one of them.
When I finally break our locked gaze, weariness hits me like a sledgehammer. Dealing with all of this emotional turmoil is so draining. We go inside, each to our separate rooms. When I finally get to bed, I find myself staring at the ceiling and wondering. What has he done that’s so bad he thinks I wouldn’t want him anymore?
Twenty-Four
The next morning Michelle shows up to have breakfast with me before work. I’d completely forgotten that we’d organised to do this last week. Jay isn’t up yet when I answer the door to her.
We sit and chat for a while. Dad comes in and grabs something quick before leaving for an early morning meeting he has scheduled. Then Jay saunters in, looking sleep-ruffled and delectable. His hair is messy, his T-shirt crumpled. And really, there should be a rule against him wearing boxer shorts around the house. His thighs are just so flipping…glorious. All muscle and sinew and sexy, sturdy strength. Those thighs were meant for plundering, and let me tell you, they plunder.
Michelle waggles her eyebrows at me when he walks in, and I give her a look to keep quiet. We still haven’t had the chance to properly discuss what’s been going on with me and Jay, and I can tell it’s killing her.
Her waggling eyebrows turn into narrowed brows when her gaze focuses on my neck.
“What’s that?” she asks, leaning in curiously and tugging down the collar of my blouse. “Is that a bruise?” she continues.
I put my hand to my throat self-consciously. I didn’t see any bruises when I was getting ready this morning, but then again, I was rushing a little, so I didn’t really have the chance to study my appearance. Jay, having just poured himself a cup of coffee, turns around, taking a sip from his mug.
“I think it is a bruise,” says Michelle, confirming it. I get up from the table and go to look in the mirror. And, just like she said, there’s a small grey bruise on my neck. In fact, there are three small bruises all in a cluster. A vision of Jay gripping my neck in the back of his car last night flashes in my head. Oh, God, he really had been rough with me.
“Yeah, looks like you’re right,” I say quietly, tugging my collar back up. “I’m always getting those mystery bruises, never know where they come from.”
“Oh, yeah?” says Michelle. There’s a twinkle in her eye that makes me wonder if she suspects I know exactly where it came from. I glance at Jay, and there’s unmistakable heat in his expression. He’s remembering, too.
I blush.
He must notice, because he comes to my rescue by focusing his attention on Michelle. “So, I hear you and Jessie have been bangin’ pocketbooks again. What’s up with that?”
I swear I almost spit out the mouthful of orange juice I just drank.
“Hahaha!” Michelle says loudly. “That’s a good one. I’m going to use that. And yeah, we have been. We’re having a little sex affair. It’s all quite exciting.”
Jay strides across the room and comes to sit down at the table with us. He takes a bite out of my half-finished bagel like it’s the most natural thing in the world. I give him a look of mock outrage, to which he gives me a cheeky wink. “A sex affair?” he asks nonchalantly. “Are you sure that’s all it is?”
Michelle’s lips tighten infinitesimally. “Yes. Why do you ask?”
He shrugs. “I just get the feeling you like her more than you care to admit.”
Michelle gives me an exasperated look. “God, Matilda, tell him. I don’t get attached. And if I were to get attached, it would be with a man. No offence to Jessie or anything.”
“Oh, so you’re just using my friend? That’s lovely. You should be very proud of yourself.”
Jay’s tone is on the verge of being pissed, but there’s something off about it. Like he’s feigning anger to get a desired result. Michelle’s posture deflates, and her eyes grow guilty.