Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
The return trip to Tahoe is therapeutic. I cry until I’m dehydrated. I haven’t decided if I’m weeping over how humiliating last night was, or the end of a relationship. A bit of both, I think.
With a stop at a small sandwich shop in Placerville, I splash water on my face. My turkey club is soggy and tastes like cardboard, my drink like sugar water, but I chew and swallow and get back into the car. Before turning on the ignition, I call Gen.
“There you are,” she says. “How did it go?”
“He dumped me.” My voice comes out strong, but there’s a slight quiver.
Eric and I needed to break up, but I still care about him. Now that it’s over, I know I’ll miss him. Not in an I’m in love kind of way, but in a this is the guy I spent the last two years with way.
A moment of silence passes. “Cali—I—wow. I’m sorry. I know that’s what people say to make other people feel better—I’ve heard it enough times these past few months—but in this case it’s the truth. He didn’t deserve you.”
“I know. Now.”
She lets out a soft sigh. “Where are you? I could find someone to take me—”
“I’m fine. Just leaving Placerville.”
“Okay.” Her voice sounds hesitant, and then, “Oh, no.”
“What?”
“We told Jaeger and Mason we’d go to the party tonight. But don’t worry. I’ll text Mason and tell him we can’t make it.”
The part of me that hurts from rejection—which makes no sense, I wanted things over in the end as much as Eric did, but there it is—wants to crawl into bed and wallow.
The other part, the part of me that has encouraged Gen to get back out there after her breakup, insists we go to this party. “No, we’ll go.”
“Really? Are you sure?”
“It’ll be good for us.”
“Don’t do this for me. I’m fine.”
“I want to. I need to get out.” Out of my head—away from the self-pity.
The steps up to Mason’s townhouse are located just down from the Heavenly Ski Resort. Dark, abandoned lift chairs glint in the moonlight, voices and music from the party carrying in the evening air.
Gen knocks on the front door and steps back, waiting. She’s wearing jeans and platform sandals. I’m in non-ass-cheek-baring dressy shorts, flats, and a light, fitted sweater.
A minute passes and no one answers, but we hear people inside. I shrug. “Try opening it.”
She twists the knob and the door swings wide on oiled hinges. The sound of music and talking elevates to ear-blasting proportions. Bodies are everywhere.
I scan until I see Jaeger’s head above all the rest. He’s in the middle of the room, talking animatedly.
That’s weird. He’s usually pretty subdued.
Warmth spreads along my limbs at the sight of him, and this time, I don’t need to feel guilty about it. Arms linked, heads slightly bowed, Gen and I merge with the crowd, charging through like a pair of mini-linebackers.
Jaeger glances up. A broad smile sweeps his face, sending my heart into hyperdrive. Within seconds, he’s by my side, dragging me to his solid chest and draping an arm over Gen’s shoulders. “Ladies! You made it.”
This is where I want to be. Attraction aside, there’s something about Jaeger that’s so comforting and natural, it’s like I should have been here all along.
Jaeger settles us under each of his muscled arms and guides us toward the kitchen, illuminated like a beacon within the mood-darkened apartment.
He heads to the keg and pours out two beers, then nods to a corner in the dining area where his friends are located.
The crowd parts for him as he walks over, Gen and I tucked close behind.
Mason’s hair and clothes are rumpled, as if it’s been a rough night. Adam stands beside Breanna, but she doesn’t look happy. It could have something to do with the fact that Adam is chatting up the girl next to him.
God, I’m sick of crappy boyfriends.
Mason spots Gen and his slightly glassy eyes light up. “You made it!” He grabs her waist and gives her a tight hug, taking a deliberate step back to run his gaze down her body. “And you look really pretty.”
A flush spreads over Gen’s cheeks.
Nothing like Gen flustered over male attention to put a smile on my face.
Mason steps closer and drapes an arm over her shoulders. Oh, yeah, he wants her. Not that I doubted it, but with Mason in what I presume to be a drunken state, it’s obvious.
Gen subtly leans away, which is baffling. Mason’s a little tipsy, but he’s hot and sweet. She should be all over that.
I nudge her closer, just to be annoying.
She reaches back and pinches the thin skin on my forearm. It hurts like a bitch. I should never underestimate Gen in a test of physical prowess. The girl may be all that is elegance and poise, but she has her scrappy moments.
Point taken. Cali’s matchmaking operation is shut down. I’ve proven I’m a poor judge of mates.
I glance at Jaeger, who is still inexplicably animated this evening.
He’s actually doing the talking in a conversation with Adam.
No matter what mistakes I made in choosing Eric, there’s no question that Jaeger is a good guy.
And to confuse the situation even more, I don’t think Eric is a bad guy either.
He just wasn’t a good guy with me. Which means good guys can be bad guys with the wrong girl…
My brain hurts. I’ll take a partial differential equation any day over this shit.
Maybe I should give up the whole dating thing for a while. Take a vacation from it. Focus on the future. Law school…
Okay, maybe just the immediate future, not the post-immediate future I’m not ready for.
A sharp heel punctures my musings—and my ballet flats—breaking the skin on the top of my foot. My gag reflexes activate. Mothereffer!
Before I can even hop on one leg and attempt recovery, I’m knocked to the side by a bony hip as the wielder of the heel, wearing a cellophaned-on dress, latches on to Jaeger.
“We’re taking shots. Join us,” she says and yanks Jaeger away.
Jaeger hesitantly follows, glancing back without making eye contact.
I sip my beer, fighting the urge to throw my cup at the girl’s head. She’s all over him, and I hate it.
I hate it that I hate it.
Breanna and I talk for at least an hour, and I’m so proud of myself.
I don’t look for Jaeger once. This is a massive accomplishment, because I’m obsessively glancing every few minutes at my phone to keep my subconscious occupied.
However, in my colossal effort to keep from looking for Jaeger, I’ve lost Gen.
I remove my visual blinders to make sure my best friend hasn’t been roofied.
I spot her a few feet away in a corner, loomed over by a medium-sized guy with a black jacket and too much hair product.
Gen in platforms is over six feet tall, so she must seriously be leaning away from this guy to be hidden.
The place is crowded and I’m trying to determine the most efficient way to reach her when I spot Mason. He’s facing me, and I wave for his attention. Amazingly, in all this chaos, he sees me and smiles. I gesture to Gen with a distressed look on my face.
Mason glances over and frowns. He immediately navigates his way through the crowd, slapping a large palm on the guy’s back. He pulls Gen out of the corner to his side. Casual words are exchanged between Mason and the unnamed male, then Gen and Mason walk off.
I catch Mason’s eye and give him a thumbs-up. He nods in recognition, but instead of bringing her over, he walks Gen across the room and up a flight of stairs. Gen doesn’t seem distressed. She’s grinning, and not a fake grin. This one’s genuine, so I assume she’s okay and return to my conversation.
Several more minutes pass as I listen to Breanna complain about Adam’s flirting with other women before I decide it’s time to check on Gen. “Breanna, watch my cup?” I hand her the beer I’ve barely touched. “I want to find out where Gen went.”
“Yeah, no problem.” She looks around, confused. “I didn’t see her leave.”
“I think she’s with Mason, but I want to make sure.”
Breanna’s mouth twists. “And interrupt? If she’s with Mason, they might be…”
Gen is the last person to have casual sex at a party. I’m certain I won’t interrupt anything like that, but there’s a wide range in between. I hate to ruin Mason’s moves, but I’m not in the mood to trust anyone right now.
“I’ll cover my eyes before I walk through any doors.”
Breanna laughs. As we part, she turns to say something to Adam a couple of feet away, but he’s talking to a different girl this time. Breanna spins in the opposite direction and slams back her drink.
I do not see that relationship lasting. And I wouldn’t blame Breanna if she were the one to end it.
After making my way to the second floor, I round a corner and a hand reaches out, pulling me inside one of the bedrooms. “Gahhh!”
“It’s me.” Jaeger chuckles near my ear.
Nice. He thinks this is funny? He almost stopped my heart with that maneuver.
“What are you doing?” I punch him in the stomach, which only bruises my knuckles.
He looks down and shrugs it off, then guides me through the dark room by the shoulders. It’s small—a second bedroom that seems to serve as an office, with a couch against the wall.
Before I know what’s happening, Jaeger plasters me to his chest and falls backward onto the couch.
I’m sprawled on top of him, legs sliding off his waist in an inelegant partial straddle. He lies there with a goofy grin on his face, his arms loosely draped over my back.
I could get up if I wanted, but I don’t. “Well, this is”—I glance pointedly at my position atop him—“interesting.”
He squeezes me lightly.
Jaeger is enormous compared to most guys, but I’ve never felt afraid with him. In fact, lying on top of his warm, utterly masculine body is amazing, and oddly comforting.
I study the unguarded look in his eyes. He’s not as rumpled as Mason, but, by my estimate, he’s three sheets to the wind. “How many beers does it take to topple a giant?”
Jaeger squints and raises one hand. His fingers flick as if he’s counting. After an absurdly long time, in which I yawn and examine my nails while lying on my hot man-chaise, he finally says, “Twelve? No, fourteen—we downed two this morning.”
“Fourteen! How are you even conscious?” I press my fingers to his neck, pretending to check for a pulse.
His baseball-glove-sized paw captures my hand and flattens it against his chest, his eyes closing contentedly.
After a second of hesitation, I lay my head below his chin and consider how strange this moment is.
I’m on Jaeger, in a loverlike pose, only he’s my friend.
And yet this is the only place I want to be.
I won’t analyze that thought too closely.
After a minute, Jaeger’s breathing changes.
What the… He did not just fall asleep. We may be friends, but I’m still a woman, and, I like to think, fairly attractive.
I squirm a little to test my theory.
He doesn’t move. A light purr emanates from his throat, growing deep and steady.
Goddammit, he fell asleep!
Great. Just great. What does it say when a guy passes out with a girl plastered on top of him? The hits to my ego just keep on coming.
I press one ear to his wide chest, listening to him breathe. After a while, it grows creepy—on my part, not his—so I roll off my man-chaise and stand, collecting the remains of my dignity. I wouldn’t mind cuddling longer, but in Jaeger’s unconscious state, that would make it weird.
After exiting the room quietly on a frustrated sigh, I close the door behind me. This party was just getting fun, hanging out alone with Jaeger—until he passed out.
Down the hall another door opens. Gen walks out, followed by Mason. She sees me and relief washes over her face.
I spear Mason with a glare. What did he do?
He barely glances at me, then continues down the hall and around the corner.
“Are you okay?” I ask Gen.
“Yeah.” Her face is calm, so I relax a little. “I’ll explain in the car.”
And she does. It turns out the party was a bust all around.
Mason tried to kiss Gen in his bedroom and she dodged it. I tried to cuddle with Jaeger and he passed out. No one got lucky tonight. Not my goal, but still.
My brilliant plan to help Gen is in a shambles and my own relationship drama battles hers for the biggest disaster.