“Chester is pretty nice.” I pull my phone out of my purse, pretending to scroll through for Chester’s number. I might actually call him once I’m out, but for now, it’s more fun to wind Jack up. Serves him right for kissing me in one breath and telling me what a mistake it was in the next. “Maybe I should take him up on his invitation to let him show me around.”
“Chester? Chester smells like fish and accidentally kissed his cousin once.”
“Well, someone doesn’t want to sleep with me, so I need to take what I can get.”
He glowers. “I didn’t say Ididn’twant to sleep with you.”
“So youdowant to sleep with me.”
“Why the hell would I have kissed you if I didn’t?”
“I don’t know! You kissed me and then ran away!”
“I needed a moment.”
“A moment.” I laugh to cover up my embarrassment. “You don’t kiss someone and leave her standing there in the span of a fucking minute, Jack.”
He’s quiet. “I know.”
“Then tell me where the best bar is. It’s that or I’m heading to Salty Joe’s.”
“No.”
I grit my teeth. “You’re impossible.”
“You’re not going out.” He takes a step forward, and then another, crowding me against the wall. I hate how my breath quickens. “Not with Chester, not with any guy in this town. If this is what you need, then fuck it. I’ll do it myself.”
My body prickles, and not in a good way. Just when I thought my humiliation was complete, he had to take the last swing.If that’s what I need, as if I’m some attention-starved animal. Screw that, him, and the way I want to lean in to his touch.
“I don’t need you topity fuckme.”
He hauls me over his shoulder, narrowly missing the stooped ceiling.
“Put me down!” He carries me to the tiny bedroom. His hand is on my ass, and he doesn’t budge when I slap his firm back. “Jack! I’m a grown woman!”
He drops me on the bed, not at all gently. “Until yesterday you couldn’t boil an egg.”
“Asshole.”
“Sorry.” He grimaces. “That wasn’t fair of me.”
“Thank you. For your information, I learned how to boil an egg last week.”
His words genuinely sting, but I can’t help but crack the joke. He laughs, and the tension eases—at least until he joins me on the bed,tipping me backward so we’re face-to-face and surrounded by pillows. I freeze. He plays with the ends of my hair like that’s a totally normal, not at all weird thing to do.
“Have you lost your mind?”
“I just kissed you.”
“Unfortunately.”
“You’re lying.”
His breath ghosts over my face as he chuckles. I squirm. “You’re flinging so many accusations, I don’t know what to focus on.”
“You don’t want to go fishing for company with the guys in this town. None of them would be able to handle you.”
I don’t know whether to be flattered or offended. Probably the latter, knowing him, but he has a point. I doubt I’d be able to find someone to scratch the itch he created. Ever so rudely, I might add.
