Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
jade
Sunday night after work, a group of about ten of us head out to a bar a few blocks from the restaurant to celebrate Lori’s birthday.
I’m exhausted from a double shift at work and staying up late last night to research Spain programs, but I can’t say no to a couple of drinks for a coworker’s birthday or I’ll be shunned.
I don’t realize until I have my first drink in hand that Reeve is with us.
He didn’t even work tonight. Of course he and his phony-ass charm have ingratiated themselves to the entire restaurant staff in a matter of weeks.
I would’ve thought he had too much jersey-chaser sex to catch up on, but there he is, already giving himself the starring role inside the circle of Somerset employees around him and commanding attention every time he walks through the bar.
With my hair and clothes, I’m used to turning heads, but Reeve’s ability to captivate a room with only his imposing form is enviable.
I find a high-top with Lori and some of the other girls, and we start bitching about Cecily.
By our second round, we’ve moved on to talking about the guys from work, with special attention paid to Reeve, of course.
I have to bite my tongue hard when Phoebe exclaims how gorgeous he is and there’s a chorus of agreement, with extra compliments thrown in like “charming” and “hilarious.” I excuse myself to the ladies’ room when the subject of his eyes comes up.
His eyes? Who the fuck cares? My abnormal psych professor has electric-blue eyes, too, but you don’t see the entire class swooning every time he blinks.
When I exit the ladies’ room, though, Reeve’s eyes are exactly what I’m thinking about; to be precise, Lori’s eager observation that even across the room in the darkened bar, their blue sparkles unnaturally bright.
Without wanting to, I glance toward the bar where the guys are gathered—and find Lori’s assertion instantly confirmed, because Reeve is watching me, and yes, his eyes are so blue they stun me.
Immediately I feel like I’ve given him something I shouldn’t have by looking at him.
His body is facing the two women in front of him, but his head is turned over one broad shoulder to look at me.
The slight smile on his lips seems leftover, like it was meant for the girls he’s talking to and just happens to be lingering, because it doesn’t at all match the look in his gaze.
He follows my movement for a few steps that feel much longer while my heart beats faster than it should.
Then one of the girls he’s entertaining strokes her fingers along his jaw and tilts his head down to look at her, and he does as told.
Somewhere inside me, a tiny, hot fire burns at the sight of her fingers on him.
What would his skin feel like? I push the revolting thought away.
At the table, the girls have moved on to speculating about whether Cecily is single, and a few of the guys have joined us and brought a fresh round of drinks. I position myself with my back to Reeve and force my way into the conversation.
I’ve finally reached the point of actually enjoying myself when I glance over and see Sam sitting three tables down. Frenchy is with him, of course.
It’s not the first time I’ve seen them out together, but it’s the first time since I learned that the whole time I was working to get back in his good graces, he was a lying scumbag.
Anger bubbles up inside me. In seconds I’m out of my chair and pushing past the crowd of people separating me and him.
Frenchy sees me approach, and the smile on her face evaporates. I give her a nod to let her know she’s not needed here, but while she looks uncertain, she remains on her barstool.
“Jade,” Sam says when I appear at his side. “Uh, hey.” We have an unspoken agreement that I don’t approach him when he’s with her, and I’ve just broken it.
“Hey.” I have a brief fantasy of the verbal trap I could craft if only I was sober, something to lure him into a false sense of security before snapping my razor-sharp teeth down on his unsuspecting neck.
But I’m a little drunk and a lot angry and I don’t have time for extras.
“I’ve been hearing a lot about you lately, Sam. ”
“Hearing what?”
“I’m just curious. What were you up to last spring when we were supposed to be giving things another shot?”
He shoots a wary look at Frenchy. “What are you getting at?”
I turn so that his girlfriend is at my back. “You were seeing her that whole time. You never stopped.”
A rare look of shame crosses his face. Sam is a man of very few regrets. “Okay, we can talk about this, but not now. Let’s find a more appropriate place and time.”
“No,” I say quickly. “We’re only going to talk about it once, and it’s going to be now. If she can’t handle it, she can leave.” I glance over my shoulder, but Frenchy has already gone.
Sam sighs with frustration. “Fine; it’s always your way, isn’t it? Listen to me, I shouldn’t have done that. It was immature and it reflected a selfish point in my life.”
I wait in silence.
“I didn’t intend to hurt you. But the truth is, you and I were dead in the water by then. I only agreed to try again because you wanted it so bad. I felt sorry for you. Besides, I never explicitly said I stopped seeing her; you assumed because you wanted to.”
I’m stunned silent for a moment. Even when we were breaking up, Sam was never so callous. “You’re being a dick,” I manage to spit at him.
“And you’re being a child. Approaching me when I’m out with my girlfriend like this? You haven’t changed. You don’t want to hear what I have to say; you want to make a scene, like always.”
His words sting, but I brush them away. “Sometimes change isn’t a good thing. Just look at who you’ve become.”
There’s nothing but coldness in his eyes when he looks at me. “I’ve moved on, Jade. I suggest you try it already.”
And in the face of that truth, I suddenly feel like a complete fool.
A muscled arm settles on my shoulder, and I turn to find Reeve sneering at Sam. “Don’t worry, dude,” he tells my ex-boyfriend as he pulls me tight against his chest. “She already has.”
I try to savor the look of shock on Sam’s face as Reeve escorts me away, his warm hand heavy on my shoulder.
But a thousand feelings are firing inside me at once, fighting to break free, and all I can feel is numb.
I can’t seem to formulate any kind of plan, so I let Reeve guide me through the crowd and out the back door to an empty brick patio that’s clearly closed to the public.
The quiet coolness of the night air shocks me back to life. Before I can turn to Reeve, I’m crying.
I shouldn’t be. I don’t even want Sam back. The Sam I knew would never speak to me so coldly, even in his angriest moments. He would never have seen another girl behind my back and then twisted his words to make it seem okay. Maybe that’s why I’m crying: Too much has changed.
“Jade.” Reeve turns me to face him. “Come on, girl. Don’t cry.”
But his voice is so soft, it only makes me cry harder. I’m so embarrassed. I hate crying in front of my own mother, but I’d sooner break down in front of Sam and his girlfriend than in front of Reeve Dalton.
He bends so he’s eye level with me. “Him? All these tears for him?”
I still can’t speak. I wish he’d just go away.
“I knew you broke up with a guy, but him? I was imagining some big swinging dick with full-body tattoos and a Harley, not someone who tucks himself into bed in a beaker every night in the chem lab.”
I laugh, though the sound comes out as a distinctly unsexy snort-sob.
He smiles, but it’s kind, and he hands me a bar napkin from his pocket.
I do my best to dry my face and wipe the makeup from under my eyes, but I’m sure I’m a puffy, blotchy mess.
Reeve stands there patiently, watching the traffic on the street behind the patio, until I finally stop sniffling and shove the balled-up napkin into my bag.
I take a deep breath. “Sorry.”
He ignores my apology. “Why would you be with that dude?”
“He never used to be such an asshole.”
“No, I mean, he looks like a total dork.”
“I get it, we’re a mismatch.” Sam once told me how intimidated he’d been at first by the alt-girl image I give off when I’m really on my game with my style.
“Damn, how attention hungry are you? You really need me to say it?”
“What are you talking about? Say what?”
He hesitates, his gaze on the street, before he turns and settles those bright eyes on me. “That you’re beautiful. That you’re really damn sexy.” I wait for him to follow up with an insult, but none comes. “What I mean is you could have any guy you want.”
Somehow his saying it makes it seem possible, despite all evidence to the contrary. I shake my head, caught off guard by his compliment. For the first time, it occurs to me that maybe he doesn’t look at all girls the way he looks at me.
“I’m just saying, you shouldn’t be so hung up on some dork like that.”
I roll my eyes as Reeve’s charm disappears into thin air. “I’m not hung up on him. But it’s hard seeing how much he’s changed from the guy I dated.”
“What was so great about him?”
“Everything.”
“I said him, not me.”
I ignore him and dab at the makeup that’s surely smeared under my eyes by now.
“Well? Can’t think of anything?” I appreciate that he’s not treating me like I could dissolve into tears at any second.
“Fine. He’s intelligent. Thoughtful. Romantic. He was always thinking of ways to make me feel special. And he worshipped me.”
Reeve waves that off. “That never lasts. The longer you know someone, the less there is to worship.”
I nod. Finally something we can agree on.
Reeve leans back against the wall and looks up at the sky. I follow his gaze. There’s nothing to see, only a few dim stars peeking out from behind the patchy clouds.
“Was he good in bed?” He turns to me but I don’t take my eyes off the sky.
“Yes.” His gaze is heavy on me. I tell my body not to care, but it doesn’t obey, my skin flushing warm.
“How good?”
There’s an answer to this, but I can’t remember it because Sam is suddenly far from my mind. So I say whatever I think will provoke Reeve the most.
“The best.” I cock my head to look at him sideways.
He angles his body toward me. His face is half in dark, half in light, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and cheekbones, accentuating the shadow of his full lips. “How so?” he asks softly.
My blood is hot, my heart pumping fast and steady.
“He was powerful. He could be as rough or as delicate as he wanted to be.” I know full well I’m not talking about Sam anymore.
I barely remember who Sam is. Reeve swallows and I watch the small movement of muscles in his throat.
I feel weak. “And he knew what I wanted.”
Reeve’s eyes fall to my lips. I didn’t see him move, but somehow there are just inches between us now. “Is that right?” His voice is gritty and barely above a whisper.
It takes only an instant for the distance between us to close and our lips to come together.
Everything that came before disappears. The brush of his lips contains enough electricity to fill my whole body.
Our tongues collide, and the taste of him ignites a fire that rips straight through me to my core.
His kiss is slow, sensual, and I follow his rhythm, but inside I feel frenzied with need.
There’s a hunger in me I don’t recognize that only builds as my senses go into overdrive.
I don’t realize until it’s all around me how well I know the scent of him, that cool, masculine smell.
He makes a sound in his throat. Maybe he’s holding back as much as I am.
He cups a hand under my jaw, angling my mouth to kiss me deeper.
The heat of his fingers sends still more sparks flying into the farthest recesses of my body.
My back presses against the wall. I urge him closer, pleasure sinking into me at every point where our bodies touch.
His free hand moves to the back of my neck.
His fingers twist carelessly in my hair, gripping me firmly so I’m at his mercy.
He’s not gentle and he’s not rough. He gives me exactly what I want.
Some small part of me knows how deeply I’ll regret this as soon as the kiss ends. But that moment seems like a future lifetime, so far off it’s irrelevant. Or maybe the inevitable regret is the part that turns me on.
I’m vaguely aware of noises nearby, muffled voices closer than the pulsing music from inside the building, then the sound of someone banging against the door.
My eyes snap open, finding the door, but it remains closed.
Reeve, meanwhile, still has both hands on my head, not giving a damn who discovers us.
There’s a chorus of laughter, another bang, and then Phoebe and Lori are spilling out onto the patio as I slap Reeve’s hands away and take a giant step from his body.
“Oh my god, Phoebe, it says pull, not push!” Lori giggles drunkenly, then turns, noticing us. “Oh. Hey, guys. Does anyone have a cigarette? I swear nobody smokes anymore.”
“Nope,” I say, thanking heaven that my coworkers seem oblivious to the implications of me and Reeve alone out here. I brush past them and reach for the door. “I was just going in, actually. See you in there.”
Despite every brain cell screaming at me not to, I can’t help glancing at Reeve.
He’s staring at me like I’m the only thing that exists.
Like his life depends on it. The expression on his face is only a shadow of a smile, but I can read it like a book: He knows that kiss just knocked me off my feet, and he’s not going to let me forget it.