Tack Junior was quickly rising to the occasion and it seemed a shame to deflate him with a blast of icy. So I twisted the taps until the water shut off, giving myself a perfunctory swipe with a towel to stop the drips. The bath sheet somehow smelled of her perfume, even though it was fresh from the cupboard. I knotted it around my waist and opened the bathroom door quietly—my plan was to wake her by sneaking back under the covers. I didn’t want the sound of the door coming unstuck from its humidity-swollen frame taking that opportunity away from me.
I shouldn’t have bothered with all the silent. The bed was empty.
Thinking maybe she was in the tiny powder room near the kitchen, I started heading in that direction. We’d only indulged in that room once, and the small counter was the perfect height to poise her ass while I rail into her this fine morning.
Jensen met me halfway there, fully dressed in sweats and a tee shirt. She had a slice of cold pizza balanced on one hand.
And a large suitcase in the other, still dusty from the garage.
All thoughts of lovemaking shriveled as a burn started low in my gut.
“Morning, Handsome,” she said around a mouthful of meat and cheese.
“Forget something in your luggage?” I asked carefully.
She rolled her eyes. “Gotta pack, ya doofus. This one’s for the dirty stuff. I’ll do laundry at my mom’s.”
And there it was. That semi-truck we’d danced around now had two fucking trailers attached, solid and weighty and sitting squarely on my chest, making it impossible to breathe.
I glanced down at the Samsonite in her hand, and the dingy gray had morphed into a deep crimson before my very eyes. I’d never suspected seeing red was more than just an expression, but everything had turned scarlet, and, strangely, a little shaky, like I was having my own private earthquake.
Or maybe that was from the shards of my heart bouncing off the carpet like bowling balls.
I reached out, ripping the heavy case from her fingers and flinging it away. It bounced off the living room wall before landing on the sofa. Its impact only left an unsatisfying dent in the sheetrock, so I went over and finished the job.
There. Now the dent was a fucking hole, roughly the size of my fist.
I stood there, taking in the damage that I had caused, trying to get my breathing under control. Well, that was pretty stupid, I realized, shaking the plaster out of my knuckles. It's not like I could change Jen's mind by doing a Hulk-smash through the walls of my own damned house.
But I was angry enough to do exactly that.
Jensen, damn her stubborn heart all to hell, didn’t so much as flinch. Her chin lifted another inch into the air and she reared back her arm.
Was she going to punch me?
I got a faceful of greasy pepperoni and ham.
Stunned, I spat out, “You hit me with your pizza?”
“It was all I had handy,” she said through clenched teeth. “I didn’t think my fist would make enough of an impact to snap you out of it.”
“Snap me out of what?” I said, picking a chunk of sausage out of my ear. “Me being angry that you’re still leaving is not something I’ll just snap out of.”
“Well, you’d better find a way,” she said over her shoulder as she stalked to the couch for the suitcase. “Did I ever say I was staying? Did I even give the impression that anything whatsoever had changed?”
“We had sex!” I was bellowing now, and screw it if the neighbors heard. Hell, they could probably hear me in Reno.
She started to push past me, holding the suitcase like a battering ram. “And? If every woman you had sex with moved into your house afterward, there’d be no room to breathe in here.”
I started to reply that she was being ridiculous, since I’d never brought a woman home before her, but in all reality, none of this was making any sense, anyway. “You really don’t get it,” I said, my voice low and even.
Jen stopped a few steps down the hall, spinning to face me. “No, Tack, I don’t. You say you love me, and I’m trying like hell to believe you.” She fisted her free hand onto her hip. “I do care about you. Maybe we can try the long-distance thing, since it’s only a few-hour drive. Or maybe not, if you’re going to act all caveman like this.”
“Caveman?” I latched onto the thing she’d said that hurt the least. “What the hell is wrong with wanting to be near the woman I’m in love with?”
She sighed at that and unclenched her hand. “Not a damn thing. It’s just that this time, you can’t have what you want just because you want it.” She set down the suitcase and took a step closer. “Tack, think about it. We both know your life was uncomplicated before I got here. You could screw any woman you pleased, and as often as you liked. You can have that back now, with no strings.” She shook her head, muttering, “Jesus, it’s like I took your virginity or something.”