24. Chapter 24
Jase was sober for the first time in months. Not a sip of alcohol since last night. Must’ve been some kind of record.
Though, he felt the itch to toss one back when Helen sat down between Graham’s knees and tipped her head up with a look of unconditional adoration, and was rewarded with a kiss.
Jase never cared about casual intimacy until he looked down between his own knees and Lindsey wasn’t there staring hopefully up at him.
He’d never be able to plant a quick kiss on her lips for the hell of it, and she’d sure as hell never look at him lovingly.
He didn’t know Lindsey had come home until he muttered something about the house rules and Helen said Lindsey showed up an hour ago. She’d been there an hour, and he’d been too absorbed in the one thing that had connected him to his brother as kids to notice.
And she clearly wanted it that way. What was she going to do, spend two weeks hiding out alone? It made him twitchy, knowing she was inside that house and totally fucking unreachable.
They’d warped to level eight in the game when Helen whispered something into Graham’s ear and Jase’s pussy-whipped brother followed his fiancée up the stairs.
Great. He’d get to listen to sex he wasn’t having tonight. Jase turned off the console and paused by the liquor cabinet for something to help him sleep.
No. No, it actually felt good being clean inside and out, even if only for one night.
In the upstairs hall, music and muffled laughter came from behind Graham’s closed door. Jase headed to the quiet room past his own.
In Texas he’d been about to knock when Lindsey stepped out of her hotel room and into his arms.
Only this wasn’t Austin. And the zero-fucks he’d been operating with yesterday that sent him into her room naked and ready for whatever she threw at him had ended with a nasty hangover and very little memory of how it happened.
Maybe he’d hang onto a few fucks for the sake of self-preservation.
Lindsey, apparently, wasn’t the only person who had trouble taking care of herself.
How many times had he called her out for being reckless on the road?
She was being awfully damn careful now—careful not to see or speak to him.
His skin hummed as if she was standing just on the other side of the door waiting for him to knock.
But do to what? Yell at him again? At least they’d be talking.
Throw him out? He’d be no worse for the wear.
Sleep with him, then hate him in the morning?
Sleep with him, then look at him the way she had in Santa Cruz when she asked for more time and he couldn’t promise how much?
Jase clenched his fist but spread his fingers before he did something stupid, like start pounding and demand to be let in. Why was it so hard to walk away from her? Why was it equally hard to burst into that room and beg her to end his misery? What was it about her he couldn’t fucking shake?
Sex or guilt or—
Love?
Love. The word set the machine beeping in his ears again.
He’d never been in love and didn’t want to be. Love didn’t end well. It made men crazy with want, like his brother, or live a lifetime of grief, like his dad.
In his thirties Jase didn’t even know what love looked like for himself.
He cursed and pushed off the door frame, skulking back to his room, where only a few inches of drywall separated the head of his bed from hers. Where Jase wouldn’t be able to sleep at all knowing Lindsey was on the other side of that wall sleeping alone.