Five #2
“Because the first thing I want is your heart.”
Jesus.
“I want you, period.”
“Listen, maybe you shouldn’t call—”
“Where are you having dinner?”
“It’s not—”
“Jory, come sit down,” Aaron said as he walked up beside me. “Your food’s getting cold.”
“Who’s that?” Sam asked me.
“I’ll talk to you later,” I said quickly.
“You don’t wanna hang up,” he warned me. “I can find your cell phone, J, no problem.”
“Oh yeah?” I baited him and clicked it off. “Good luck.”
When I turned to go back to the table, I stopped instantly, as Aaron was standing right there, barring my path and smiling at me.
“What?”
“Your temper, Jory.” He sighed, his fingers sliding over my jaw. “It’s really something.”
I moved past him to go back to the table at the same time that the waiter finally dropped off my Chivas and water. I thanked him, drained it before he could leave, and quickly ordered another one before I even sat down.
“Jory, don’t ruin the evening just because you’re pissed off at whoever was on the phone.”
“I’m not ruining anything,” I said, cutting into my steak again. “Just drop it.”
But Aaron never could. “Why don’t we go?”
“I’m eating,” I told him, “and all my friends are here, having a good time. You should too.”
“How can I, when I know if you keep drinking, you might go home with someone else instead of me?”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m not going home with anyone.”
“Please.” He shook his head. “You always go home with someone, Jory. You’re predictable that way. I used to watch you when you were out, and you never left alone. Every night a different guy. I’m sure nothing’s changed.”
I turned to look at him as the waiter dropped off my second drink. “What are you talking about now?”
He searched my eyes with his. “Before we started dating, I’d see you at the club, picking up a different man every night.
You’d leave with them, and then, the next night, if that same one came near you, you ignored them until they got the message.
Nobody ever gets a repeat performance from you. You’re a one-night stand kind of guy.”
I nodded, feeling my face get hot. People were listening and pretending they weren’t; some of their faces showed embarrassment and others were just disgusted. Kellen looked surprised. He was probably wondering why Sloane would have wanted him to date me, since I was so obviously a whore.
“C’mon, you know I’m right. You never sleep with the same guy twice. That’s not how you operate. You sleep with them and forget them.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes,” he insisted. “And I bet it’s been even worse since we broke up. You’re, like, the biggest slut in Chicago, and you know it.”
He was right to some degree. Before him, after Sam, there had been a lot of men.
And before Sam, there had been too many to count.
So I did sleep around a lot, but when I was with someone, I was monogamous.
My first instinct was to loyalty and wanting to belong to someone. If Sam wanted me, I would…
I jerked hard, startling Sloane, who was sitting on the other side of me.
“Jesus, Jory,” she said, chuckling nervously, sliding her chair away from me, closer to her boyfriend, Derek, who was sitting beside her. “Just because you’re drunk, don’t spill on me.”
But I wasn’t drunk. I hadn’t even finished my second drink yet. But everyone thought I was or would be. That was always the assumption.
“Did you hear me?” Aaron asked.
What was I doing, thinking about Sam?
“Are you all right?”
“Yeah, I’m…fine.”
“Look at me.”
I did as he asked.
“It used to piss me off, seeing you go home with all those guys after turning me down. It took me forever to get you to say yes.”
I heard his words, but I wasn’t actually thinking about what he was saying. I wasn’t emotionally connected at all.
“When we finally got together… God, Jory, it was like winning the lottery.”
I was a prize, then.
“Jory…”
I looked into his eyes, saw how hungry they were, how dark.
He leaned close to me so he wouldn’t be overheard. “You know people look at you and think you’re hot, but they have no idea how great your body is.”
Always, this had been Aaron’s need—for everyone to admire his things, to covet his possessions…and I had been one of them.
When we used to go out with his friends, he would buy me a shirt or a sweater—a gift, he’d say. And I would put it on, only to find that it was a size too small.
“Your body is gorgeous,” he’d tell me. “You should show it off more.”
If we were lounging by the pool, he’d run his hand over my stomach in front of his friends, tell them that you could scrub laundry on my abs, sometimes yanking down the side of my swim trunks to trace the V-line from my hip to my groin.
I would shove him off me, head for the house, and he would catch me and say he was sorry, that he never meant to embarrass me.
I was just so beautiful, what was he supposed to do?
I told him I wanted to be treated with respect.
And he would promise to, even as his hand slid over my ass to the catcalls and whistles of his friends.
The end result was logical; the people who mattered to him thought our relationship was a joke.
They were sure that all I had to offer was what you could see.
We would go to expensive places, and Aaron was reminded by his friends to buy my drinks or my meal since I couldn’t possibly afford it.
My age was a constant source of amusement, my lack of a financial portfolio and property cause for concern.
It was understood that he was slumming with me because I had a hot body and I was good in bed.
And when we broke up, leaving that part behind had been a huge relief.
What was interesting was that Dane’s friends never made me feel bad about myself.
Even the guys just like those in Aaron’s posse, trust-fund babies, never treated me with anything but respect and inclusion.
The only difference was the linchpins themselves.
Aaron set the tone with his friends, as Dane did with his.
One said Jory was valuable, the other did not.
I really needed to rethink spending any time with Aaron Sutter. It wasn’t great for my self-esteem.
“What are you thinking about?”
I shook my head, gulping down my drink.
He leaned in close, and I felt his warm breath in my ear. “Jory, I know you’re back to the clubs, sleeping with any guy who asks…so I’m asking…come home with me. Choose me tonight. Please.”
But it was over, and going back was just plain stupid. Just being with him, seeing the sneering looks from his friends, hearing him criticize me was annoying.
He turned my face to him. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad.”
“Too late,” I said, lifting my chin out of his hand and pushing back from the table. “But it’s normal for you and the rest of your pals, so I’m not upset. I’m just done.”
“But I don’t care that you’re like that,” he went on, because he wasn’t really listening to me. “I just want you to—”
“I know what you want,” I muttered as I stood up and put on my jacket.
“What are you doing?” he asked suddenly.
It seemed obvious. “I’m leaving.”
“Why?” he asked, reaching out to grab hold of my wrist.
“I forgot how bad you and your friends make me feel about myself.” I yanked my arm free of his grasp. “I’ll see ya later. Thanks for dinner.”
“Jory—”
“Bye,” I yelled at the table, smiling before I turned and left the room, dodging the waiters coming in to serve more food and drinks.
I made it down the staircase to the restaurant and then snaked my way through the crowd to the door.
On the street I felt instantly better, less claustrophobic, like I could breathe.
“Jory!”
I turned and found Aaron.
“Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“Why? What did I say that’s not true?”
“Nothing,” I said, turning to leave.
“Jory!” he snapped, grabbing my arm tight, holding on. “I hate these damn dramatic exits. Just for once, stay and fight. You always run.”
I shrugged. “So find someone who’ll stay. It doesn’t seem that hard. You get tons of guys hitting on you all the time, just pick one already. That guy Kellen thinks you’re plenty hot.”
“Jory—”
“Lemme go, Aaron,” I said tiredly. “I’m not the guy for you, and you’re definitely not the one for me. Let’s just call it a day.”
“God!” he roared, the frustration just rolling off him. “Why do you have to fight me all the time? Why can’t you just listen to me, since all I want is the best for you? You could be so happy! I could show you so many things and places and—”
I peeled his hand off me and took a step back. “I don’t need that.”
“What do you need? Do you even know?”
I didn’t, but I knew for certain it wasn’t Aaron Sutter. I had to trust in order to love, and I didn’t trust Aaron. He wanted to change me, and I was afraid if I stayed with him, I would lose myself along the way.
“Jory? Tell me the kind of guy you need and I’ll be that guy.”
I shook my head. The only man I had ever loved so completely that every wall in me had come down was Sam Kage.
I was a mess, sometimes, and he had been my rock.
I needed that. I needed to be able to surrender and just be.
But it would sound desperate and codependent if I gave voice to it, so I just stood there silently.
“Jory, please. I thought about you every day I was gone.”
When he took a step forward, I took another back. I wasn’t going to let him touch me anymore…there was no point. I had my doubts that we could even be friends.
“Jory…honey.”
And Sam was an even worse prospect, because as much as I wanted him, he was no good for me. It was funny—the guy I didn’t want would stay forever, and the guy I did want would end up leaving me again, if I allowed him the chance. I needed a drink.
“That’s your answer for everything.”
I hadn’t realized I’d said it out loud.
“What you need is to come home with me and spend the weekend. We need to talk.”