15. Jacinthe #2
A crystal sun catcher in the window reflects a few glimmers of moonlight, spilling them across the round wooden dining table. Tess has only got the light by the door on, so most of the room is still dim, adding to the cozy effect.
“ Bien fait ,” I congratulate her, clapping my hands a few times. “It looks great in here.”
She gives me a small smile that almost looks shy.
“Thanks,” she says. “I’m not much of a decorator, but I wanted it to feel homey for Shel.”
“Are you kidding?” I demand. “You did awesome. If I didn’t know better, I’d think some Pinterest queen farm wife set this place up. It’s so cute!”
I take a step forward and then hesitate before Tess sweeps her arm out in a go-ahead gesture.
I kick my shoes off and then do a lap around the space, taking in all the details.
There’s a floral rug laid out under the red couch that’s just saggy enough to be the perfect place to flop down for a nap or a movie night.
“So Shel has the loft?” I ask, pausing at the bottom of the staircase.
Tess nods. “As if I had a choice. Living in a loft is like eighty percent of her personality at the moment.”
I laugh and keep moving around the room. The bedroom door is resting half-open, the space beyond it too dark to see into.
“And so this is yours?”
Obviously it’s her room. There’s only one bedroom.
“Uh, yeah,” she says.
She’s still standing all the way over by the door.
“Honestly, it’s a total disaster zone,” she tells me. “It’s where I’ve been shoving everything I don’t have a place for yet. I barely have room to get into bed.”
Bed.
There’s a bed in there, and she lays in it.
At night.
It’s ridiculous, but all of a sudden, it’s like I can see the moonlight slanting over her face while she dreams: her lips parted, her hair adorably mussed, her bare shoulders peeking out over the top of the sheets.
I jump away from the door like it’s swung out and smacked me in the face.
I’m really standing here picturing some creepy fantasy of Tess sleeping naked when the real Tess is right here in the room with me.
The least I could do is picture her in some freaking pajamas.
“Did you just trip?”
Tess looks like she can’t decide if she should be concerned or laugh.
“Uh, yeah,” I say. “These maudit old floors. They’re so uneven.”
I walk over to the nearest frame on the wall, which is holding another piece of bargain bin art. I pretend to be transfixed by the mediocre pastel drawing of some foxes while I wait for my heartbeat to slow down.
“You have a strange energy tonight,” Tess says.
I turn and make a face at her. “ Excusez-moi ?”
She must have come around the dining table without me noticing. She’s leaning against the back of the chair closest to me. We’re only a few feet apart.
“I am not strange .” I cross my arms over my chest. “It is almost one in the morning. I am tired. You’re the one who invited me in here in the middle of the night.”
She crosses her arms too, and I’m reminded that we’re wearing the same outfit. We’d look like mirror images if she weren’t almost a head taller than me.
She raises an eyebrow. “I thought I was being friendly.”
She looks way too sexy in that blazer. She looks way too sexy in everything she wears.
If she comes any closer, I’m going to make an idiot of myself. I’m not sure how exactly, but the back of my neck is prickling in a way that tells me I’m right on the edge of doing something truly stupid.
“It would be friendly to offer me a glass of water or something.”
I sidestep towards the kitchen, away from Tess.
It’s easier to breathe when there’s more space between us.
“You’re right. I’m a terrible host.” She skirts around the table and pulls two glasses off the pine shelves on the wall to fill them up at the sink. “Here.”
I reach for the one she offers and retreat back to my huddle beside the fridge. I try to drink like a normal person, but I end up sucking back half the glass in one go.
Tess watches me with that stupidly sexy grin plastered on her face. She looks smug, like she’s winning a game I didn’t even know we were playing.
It makes my skin crawl, but in the good kind of way, like the shiver that runs up your spine before a storm hits, when the air smells like magnets and lucky pennies.
She eyes my water glass when I finally pry it away from my mouth.
“Guess you needed it after all those beers.”
I narrow my eyes. “Three beers is not a lot, you know.”
Her grin gets even wider. “I’m teasing you.”
I tip my chin up, fighting to look tough.
“You tease me a lot, huh?”
Her grin falters, her eyes flashing with a hint of concern. “Too much?”
“No. I like it.”
The words slip out before I can stop them. My pulse kicks up, thumping so loud it’s like a tiny bass drum in each of my ears.
Tess sets her glass down and comes to stand in front of me, squinting into my face.
“Do you need to sit down?”
“ No .”
My voice echoes through the quiet room, sharp enough to make Tess take a step back.
“I…shouldn’t,” I add, forcing myself to speak softer.
What I really want to do is yell at her to stay back, to stay all the way on the other side of the room.
Hell, I want to order her to lock herself in her bedroom with me stuck on the other side.
Where I belong.
Where we both need me to stay.
Instead, she comes closer, staring into my face again like she’s about to whip out a flashlight and check if my pupils are dilated.
“You shouldn’t…sit down?” she asks.
She’s talking like I’m drunk, and I guess I deserve it. I can’t get a grip on myself, not with her so close.
She smells like campfire too. She smells like crisp leaves and balsam fir.
She smells like home.
I squeeze my eyes shut.
“I shouldn’t be here at all.”
She sucks in a breath, and it takes everything in me not to open my eyes.
“Why?” she asks.
She sounds different now. All the teasing has faded away. The moment is stripped raw, bare, like a tree without its bark. All that’s left is soft, pale wood that’s easy to scar.
“You know why.”
Her breath catches again. I hear the soft, wet sound of her swallowing.
My thighs twitch.
“Jacinthe.”
My eyes snap open like she’s commanding my body. She’s even closer now, dark bangs spilling into her face, green eyes glinting in the dim light.
“Tess.”
Her bottom lip drops open. My heart is slamming into my ribcage, cracking my bones as it fights to throw itself at her.
She stares at my mouth.
My head spins. Everything spins except her. I don’t know if I’m breathing. All I can think about is her skin and what it would feel like to have her body pressed against mine.
Nothing between us.
Raw.
Bare.
Stripped.
She tugs her lip between her teeth. I press up harder against the fridge behind me.
It’s pathetic, really. She’s got me cowering like a cornered animal, and I couldn’t move if I tried.
She steps closer. We’re almost chest to chest. Her fingertips brush the outside of my thigh, up the seam of my jeans.
I shudder.
She drags her hand higher, all the way up to my hip, and then slips her fingers under my blazer to hook around one of my belt loops.
My back arches, pressing my chest to hers.
She gasps.
I moan.
She’s tall enough she has to bend down a little to whisper in my ear. “We shouldn’t do this, should we?”
Her voice is hoarse. I can feel her hand trembling where she’s still clutching my jeans.
I shake my head even as I press my chest harder against hers.
“No,” I rasp.
She tugs on my belt loop. My hips buck against her pelvis.
“Do you want me to stop?”
Her breath is hot on my neck.
“No,” I answer.
That’s all it takes.
We crash together like the moment a storm strikes, like the second when the sky splits apart.
We kiss like we’re angry, all teeth and tongues and furious, bruising lips. She grips my hips in both her hands, her fingertips digging in hard enough to make me gasp into her mouth.
I thread my hands into her hair, tugging her down to me while I slide my tongue past her lips to taste her.
She’s sweet and spicy all at once, like mulled wine on the stove.
She groans before yanking me off the fridge. She stumbles backwards, and I use the moment to my advantage, flipping us around so I’m backing her into the wall now.
I trap her by the shoulders, my palms pressing flat against the lapels of her blazer, and then I slide my knee between her thighs.
She jerks like I’ve shocked her and then mutters a curse against my mouth. I grin, relaxing my hold on her a little.
Her hands fly up to clamp around my wrists, and before I know it, we’re flipped around again. My back slams against the wall.
Tess purrs—fucking purrs, like a satisfied cat—and I’ve never felt the searing cocktail of rage and desire burning its way through my veins now.
I want her to drag me to the floor.
I want to pin her to the ground.
I want to be her bitch, and I want to make her beg.
I want it all, and I want it right fucking now.
She takes my caged wrists and jerks them up above my head to capture me. My fists bang into the wall, and a sharp crack cuts through the air as the picture frame beside us drops to the floor.
The wood splinters, and I hear the shrill tinkle of glass breaking.
Tess shrieks, her arms dropping to her sides.
“Shit!” I yelp, my arms tumbling down too.
It’s only a small frame, but the sound is still ringing in my ears like thunder.
Tess bends to pick the picture up.
“Ah, tabarnak ,” I mutter. “I’m so sorry. How bad is it broken?”
She shakes her head. “It’s just a cheap frame. It’s fine.”
She tries to straighten the wood out, but the pieces won’t fit back together anymore.
“It’s my fault.” I push off the wall and come closer to see if there’s anything I can do. “I…”
My throat dries up when I see the photo in the frame.
Shel.
It’s a close-up of her face from what has to be a few years back. She’s got some slightly wonky bangs, and one of her front teeth is missing where she grins at the camera.
The glass is cracked straight down the center of her face.
My stomach lurches.
“I should go.”
I whirl around and lunge for the door. I’ve already started tugging my boots on by the time Tess sets the photo on the table and stalks over to me.
“Jacinthe. Wait.”
“No,” I blurt. “I…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. I have to go.”
I finish stuffing my feet into my shoes and don’t bother with the laces before yanking the door open. My fingertips linger on the handle, and no matter how much I urge my legs to run, my feet stay planted on the threshold.
I glance back over my shoulder at Tess.
Her face is pale now, ghostly white and cast in shadow, like the half-empty moon in the sky.
My body snaps back into my control. I inch the door wider and step out into the night.
She doesn’t try to stop me.