Page 21 of Pulse (Pulse 1)


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"Until he saw me with another guy last week." I shake my head and roll my eyes.

"What guy? You're dating someone?"

"No. It's Bryce. That guy that moved in with Rebecca and me." I know she's met him. I heard from Bryce over dinner last night what a MILF Cassandra is.

"He's gorgeous." She laughs. "Young, but gorgeous."

I smile. "Anyways, the random sees Bryce and decides that he should kiss me to mark his territory."

"Wait." She bolts upright on the stool she's teetering on. "The random just kisses you in front of Bryce as if to say, hands off she's mine?"

"Pretty much."

"That's kind of hot, don't you think?" She takes a long sip from the mug. "This is great coffee, Jess."

I blush at the unexpected compliment. "I was really pissed at him."

"Why?" she shoots back. "He was jealous, no?"

"I don't know." I sigh. "I can't read him at all."

"Did you ask him about it?"

"He said he didn't want me fucking Bryce, yet he fucks whoever he wants." I laugh when I realize how ludicrous it sounds.

"He's falling for you." She points her finger at me. "The random is falling for you."

I want to believe that. She can't be right though. He told me he was fickle. He warned me that he likes variety.

"You know, he's never asked for my number." It's the first time I've shared that with anyone. I've been too embarrassed to tell Rebecca that detail.

"That's a complication to him," she states. "He doesn't want to have the responsibility of having to call the day after."

"Exactly. So why can't I just forget about him and move on?"

"You're falling for him too." She pats my hand. "If you don't want to get hurt, now is the time to bail out of this, Jess. Men like that never change."

I knew she was right. My mind knew it. My body just wasn't ready to accept it yet.

Chapter 17

"I was shocked you wanted to come here," Rebecca adjusts the neckline of the top she's wearing. "I thought you wanted to avoid Fingers like the plague."

I grin at the nickname. She refuses to call him Nathan and since I have every intention of steering clear of him in the future, I couldn't care less what she calls him. Taking Bryce to the club as a way to celebrate his arrival in Manhattan had been my idea. I wanted a bird's eye view of Nathan picking up another woman and sweeping her away to the eighteenth floor. I knew that if I saw it with my own two eyes, forgetting about him would be that much easier.

"I'll get us some drinks." Bryce calls to us as we exit the ladies' room. Although I'm still not used to the idea of a male roommate, having Bryce around had been fun. He was too much of a gentleman to try anything on either of us. Once we found out he was saving up to get his girlfriend back home an engagement ring, we knew he was the perfect choice to live with us. He had unexpectedly become something of a big brother figure to both Rebecca and I.

"Fingers at a distance." Rebecca taps me on the shoulder and I see Nathan out of the corner of my eye. He's chatting up a beautiful brunette, her hand resting softly on his forearm.

"That didn't take long." I try not to sound defeated. What was I really expecting? It was the exact way he picked me up. He trolls the club until he sees someone he wants to take up to his room, and he makes it happen. The mere fact that he has a fuck pad above a club says more than anything that could have come out of his mouth.

"Don't beat yourself up over it, Jess." My best friend hugs me from behind. "He's a man whore."

I laugh at the description. Maybe he was. Maybe he'd always be. Cassandra's words about men never changing ring loudly through my ears as the pulsing music shifts to a higher tempo. I want to dance. I search the floor for Bryce but he's still in the line for the bar. My eyes scan the room before they settle on a handsome man staring directly at me.

He nods in my direction and I smile back. Maybe the best way for me to get over Nathan is to just fuck someone else. Maybe I needed to rid my mind and my body of the memory of his touch. I had to stop thinking about him. I had to stop wanting him so much.

"Dance?" The man with the brown eyes from across the club is beside me now, his hand resting squarely on the skin of my back. The sheer black dress I'm wearing is backless and the chill that races through me at his touch is unexpected, and welcome.

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