Watch Me Fall(14)

“You think I don’t know that? That’s why I don’t go out there.” Janelle grinned. “As long as I have a full pack of batteries, I’m good to go.”

“You know, I had almost that exact same thought last night. Like, what’s the point of all this? Why do I bother?”

Jan nodded knowingly. “B.O.B. doesn’t argue, B.O.B. doesn’t turn into a drunken asshole, B.O.B. asks no questions, B.O.B. doesn’t come first.”

Chuckling, Starla tried not to think about the workout she’d given her own personal B.O.B. last night after she’d gotten home from Jared’s. The problem was blatantly apparent. B.O.B lacked a hot, hard, sweaty male body, B.O.B. didn’t have callused fingers to touch and tease her with, B.O.B. didn’t whisper dirty things in her ear. A vibrator didn’t make her feel safe, and it certainly didn’t tenderly doctor her bloody finger.

She’d lain in bed after reaching a silent and wrenching climax, panting softly, trembling, staring at the ceiling as her fantasy Jared disappeared from above her. God, that would’ve been ten times more powerful with him. With those blue eyes looking down on her as she came. With the rhythm and technique that he alone would possess. With no one in the next room who might hear, because she didn’t want to bite her lip and lock down tight on all that energy zinging through her. She wanted to let it out. Let it rip. Dammit, she had a lot to release.

“You’re turning red,” Janelle said merrily, turning to carry her coffee up front. “Compose yourself, woman.”

“When the fuck have I ever been composed?”

Starla ran errands during a lapse between appointments that afternoon, taking time to replace her ruined phone—she should make Max fucking pay for it, but that wasn’t a fight she was willing to have now or ever—and doing some shopping for the house. Cooking last night had put her in the mood. She was tired of living on sushi and pizza and burgers, and her scales and clothes hadn’t been very forgiving of late.

Jared’s kitchen had been a dream to cook in. Her cramped little kitchen left her barely enough room to turn around, with scant counter space, no pantry, and only a few cabinets, not to mention a temperamental oven that seemed to have two settings: cold and burnt. It had done fairly well on the cookies yesterday, though.

No more cookies. She had to do better, maybe start putting that gym membership to use. Also, it would have been nice to be able to kick Max’s ass if he’d tried to hassle her anymore, so maybe a self-defense class wouldn’t be unheard of. Macy was slender as a reed but, to hear Ghost tell it, as strong as an ox, and obviously Jared was attracted to that sort—

Okay. She damn sure didn’t need to go down that road. But a girl like Macy could’ve definitely kicked Max’s ass. Starla couldn’t imagine Macy letting anyone speak to her that way.

No, the difference was that Macy wouldn’t associate with the sort who would dare try to speak to her or treat her that way. While Starla kept taking it and running back for more.

First step was identifying the problem. Okay. She’d done that. Now to do something about it.

Overall, Starla was feeling positive about her life decisions until precisely nine thirty that night while she was cleaning up after a walk-in. Her new phone lit with an incoming text message. There was no sense in getting all excited thinking it might be Jared—despite spending Sunday evening with him, she’d still never given him her cell number, and even if she’d swiped his from Janelle’s incoming call list as soon as she’d had a chance, it wasn’t likely that he’d been able to track hers down. Unless he’d called Janelle himself to get it and she just hadn’t mentioned it. Yeah, right.

Still, it would be nice to think he would put forth that kind of effort for her.

No such luck. In fact, worst luck ever. The message was from Max.

Where u been, pretty?

Like nothing had ever happened. He’d probably gotten so drunk, he didn’t remember the night at all. Mouth set in a tight line, she hit reply to let him fucking have it. But no…she should ignore him. Block him. Erase him from her life completely. Tossing the new phone in her purse, she began furiously wiping down her counter.

“Whoa, there.” Ghost laughed from across the room. “You’re gonna rub a hole in it.”

“I’ll rub a hole in your face,” she grumbled, scrubbing harder, though it was Max’s face she imagined.

Ghost and Janelle laughed, but Starla could feel the weight of Jan’s eyes on her even after the conversation turned to other things. After a few minutes, Jan wandered over and whispered, “Do not answer him.”

Starla knew without clarifying that her friend meant Max. The ever-observant Janelle knew her so well.

“I wasn’t going to.”

“You can’t resist a fight.”

Frustration crested in Starla’s chest. Sometimes being an open book sucked. “I know.”

“I mean it. No matter what he says—”

Starla straightened and held the Lysol wipe threateningly in Janelle’s face. “It’s a good thing you’re my person. Or I might try to rub a hole in your face.”

Janelle laughed and shook her head, taking the joke for what it was: I’m not mad yet, but keep at it and I’ll get there. “All right.” She ambled back over to her station.

“I love you, Jan,” Starla assured her.

“Oh, bite me.”

Still, even as the next round of appointments and walk-ins came through, that message was slowly burning a hole in Starla’s sanity—whatever remaining shreds were left of it. What an asshole. Calling her “pretty.” Wondering where she’d been. Away from your psycho ass, she wanted to say. She gritted her teeth through a touch-up, listening to her client chatter away and offering input when it seemed warranted, though she was functioning on social autopilot. Luckily, she did some of her best work when she was brooding.

That dick. Shoving her out of the car. Cracking her phone. Talking crazy how-close-we-are-to-death shit. Ugh. And though she’d had the thought when his first message came through, she hadn’t taken the time to block his number or silence it, so they kept coming. She could hear her phone chirping away inside her purse, her teeth gritting tighter with every ding. They would be dust before the night was over. If Brian were here, he’d bark at her to turn the phone off. He wasn’t crazy about them being excessively distracted, at least not when someone was in their chair. Once her client had left and Starla had cleaned her station, she snatched open her purse and yanked the gadget out. You’re history, buddy.

But the content of the messages caught her eye.

WTF, u ignoring me?

I no ur at work.

I got something for ya no u want it

Annnnd there was a picture of his dick. Lovely. Too bad the crazy fucker knew how to use it so well.

Been to long bb, cum get it

I lick tht pussy all nite, no how u luv it

“Fucking hell!”

Ghost laughed at her, but Jan looked troubled. Starla shot her a glare. “Oh, you need not be concerned.”

“What am I missing?” Ghost asked. “Come on. Let me in on it.”

“Shit, no.”

His dark brows pulled together. “Oh yeah, you had your date with Stanton last night, didn’t you?”

“It wasn’t a date.”

“Leave her alone, Ghost,” Janelle said.

“Can I just say? You can do what you want, Star, but it’s gonna create an extremely awkward atmosphere if you start seeing that guy.”

“You didn’t tell Macy, did you?” Starla asked, a little more shrilly than she’d meant to.

“No. I don’t even like to bring him up. Just keep him away from here, that’s all I ask.”

“Why should I have to? Macy’s here all the time.”

“That’s why you should have to.”

“So if Jared and I do start dating, your girlfriend can visit you at work, but my boyfriend can’t? Just because of your girlfriend? Fuck that. You know that’s bullshit.”

“That pretty much is bullshit,” Janelle pointed out.

“Mostly it’s because I, personally, can’t stand your boyfriend,” Ghost said.

“What if I couldn’t stand your girlfriend?”

“Can you not?”

“I happen to like her. My point is, you wouldn’t give a shit if I liked her or not. You’d still bring her here. Am I wrong?”

“You’re not wrong,” Janelle said brightly.

“All right, point fucking taken,” Ghost practically growled. “But I would hope I could appeal to what better judgment you might have left, if any. I would hope, for the sake of our friendship and all the years we’ve worked together, that you wouldn’t bring that guy around me, and you definitely wouldn’t create a situation where he and Macy might come face-to-face. We have to see him sometimes at her rodeo shit, but we shouldn’t have to deal with him at my fucking job.”

“Because you’re jealous,” Starla said. “You’re fucking jealous because he had her first. You delicate flower. I never thought I’d see it.”

“I am pretty delicate. What about you? No hint of jealousy toward Macy because you’re thinking of banging her ex, if you haven’t already?”