Jacey sat in her car and stared up at Jonas’ window. The light was on. His car was in the drive but his motorcycle was gone. She had no idea if that meant he was gone or if he’d loaned it to her brother or another friend, or if it was in the garage. A shadow moved at the window and the curtain shifted aside. Definitely Jonas. He was home.
Her phone rang, making her jump. She looked down at it and wasn’t surprised to see Jonas’ name on the ID. She was busted. She slid her finger across the screen to answer and put it to her ear.
“You planning to sit out there all night, Jacey?” His voice was that deep timbre that she’d always associated with safety and comfort. She’d missed hearing that voice. “Jesus, I’m feeling stalked here.”
That made her laugh. “I wasn’t sure if I was welcome.”
A sigh. That was what came over the line. “What do you want, Jacey?”
“To talk.”
“I’m tired, Jacey. Go home.” And the son of a bitch hung up on her.
“You did not just fucking hang up on me,” she yelled at her phone. She was good and pissed now. He was tired? Well, fuck that. She wanted to talk and by god he was going to fucking listen to her.
She slammed her car door and when the curtain moved again she couldn’t control the impulse to flip him off as she moved toward his house and the outside stairs that led up to his porch. He should have taken the key away if he didn’t want to talk to her. He was tired! Well, bully for him. He could wake the fuck up.
The door opened as soon as she reached it and Jonas filled the space. His brown waves were mussed as if he’d been running his fingers through them as he often did when he was agitated. His brown eyes were a deep chocolate shade behind his glasses, and if she wasn’t mistaken, he’d been drinking. He still had on the slacks she was sure he’d worn to the office that morning but his shirt was unbuttoned and hanging untucked and wide open, revealing a chest that no computer geek should have.
God, how had she been so blind? How had she not realized that Jonas meant more to her than a mere friend? And when had that changed? When had her feelings for him changed? Because, honestly, she didn’t know. She just knew that when he said she should find someone else to discuss her love life with, it had hurt. Then when she’d seen him with that redhead, well, she’d seen red. And she hadn’t been looking at the bimbo’s hair.
“I told you to go home.” Jonas’ voice washed over her and she shivered, her nipples getting tight and hard. She wasn’t missing the way he made her feel now.
“Well, good for you,” she said and shoved past him into his house. “But I want to talk.”
She turned around when she was safely inside only to see him still holding the door open. “Shut the door, Jonas, before you let the flies in. Besides, I’m not sure you want the neighbors to hear what I’ve got to say.”
He slammed the door and flipped the lock before moving away from her. She followed him to the kitchen and took in the dishes in the sink, the clutter on the counters and the open bottle of whiskey and glass on the table. Jonas was neat. Jonas was tidy. Jonas didn’t drink all that often.
“What’s going on Jonas? Everything okay?” she asked, really concerned.
“Everything’s perfect,” he said, plopping down into his chair and lifting the whiskey glass to his lips for a sip. “Abso-fucking-lutely perfect.”
“Jonas, you can tell me,” Jacey said. “We’re friends.”
“Friends,” he muttered and she watched the glass lift for another longer sip. “You wanted to talk, so talk. Who’s the guy this time, Jacey? What’s wrong with him? Did he suck in bed? Was his dick too small? Didn’t he satisfy you?”
Jacey blanched at his candor. Oh god. Had she destroyed any chance of going further with him by talking to him about her sex life? Did she really talk like that with him? Usually she said those things to Dee and Mischa but she did feel safe and comfortable with Jonas, she just hadn’t realized why until he’d pulled away.
“There isn’t a guy, Jonas,” she said.
“Wow, the amazing sex machine called Jacey is taking a little fuck break,” Jonas muttered then chuckled. “What will the male population do?”
“You might as well have just called me a whore,” she said quietly.
“Well, if the shoe fits,” he muttered again and she rose to her feet.
“Fuck, Jacey, I’m sorry,” Jonas said, coming to his feet beside her and grabbing her arm to keep her from leaving. “I told you I was tired and apparently I’m a fucking douche bag as well.”