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“Me either,” he said, kissing my neck.
I felt the safest I’d ever felt, lying in his arms, naked with only a thin layer of sweat separating us. I had never felt as sexy as I did when I was around him. Not always with words, it was amazing how much can be read through a look, or an action.
“So what happens now?” I regretted the question as soon as it left my mouth. It sounded stupid and naïve. But the reality was my experience in relationships was limited, and his was damaged.
“Honestly Rose? I've no idea what I'm doing here.” My defenses pricked up. Was that confusion in his voice? Or maybe regret? No idea, what did that mean? I sat up, my arms across my chest.
Jack frowned, visibly annoyed at how that had sounded. “I didn't mean it like that.”
“Are you sure? Was this you trying to move our relationship forward, or just you giving in to . . . well, whatever the hell this is between us?” I glared at him.
I was so pissed, and I didn't even know why—no, that's not true. I did know why. I was annoyed at myself for jumping into bed with him so damn easily. It didn't take a genius to see that Jack was not ready for a relationship and yet there I was, getting my hopes up that maybe we could be something.
“Do you have the schedules?” I asked, quickly dressing myself.
“Schedules?” he asked, confused.
“Yes. The whole reason I'm here. The schedules for work.” I said tersely. I stood up and adjusted my bra, then pulled my shirt on over the top, tucking it into my skirt.
“Rose—”
“Don't, Jack. Just let me go. I'm pretty sure I don't want to hear what you have to say,” I blurted out.
Fuck, I'll be crying next. I could feel the tears welling in my eyes. I had to get out of there—there was no way I was going to let him see me cry.
Jack stood there for what felt like ages, just staring at me. Finally he walked over to the corner table and grabbed some papers.
“Here,” he said, holding them out to me.
I took them, and then practically ran out of his apartment. As soon as I hit the stairs, the tears began to roll down my cheeks. I didn't stop until I was outside and safely in my car.
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“What's wrong?” Darcy took the roster from me and balled it up before shoving it in her pocket. Her face filled with concern. I sighed, and sank down on the beanbag next to the TV.
Darcy came over and crouched down next to me. “Did something happen?” she asked.
“I slept with Jack,” I mumbled, kicking my shoes off.
“What!?!” she screeched. “Oh honey, that is so not a bad thing! You were in serious need of—”
“Shh,” I hissed. “And please keep this to yourself.”
She looked at me innocently before racing off into the kitchen. She returned a few minutes later with two cans of Coke and a bowl of nuts.
“What, no olives?” I sniggered. She shot me a death stare and then collapsed onto the sofa.
“Okay,” she said, rubbing her hands together, her face breaking into a smile.
“What?” I asked, confused.
She glared at me in disbelief. “Okay, you can't say that and then not give me the details,” she whined, her pretty face scrunching up into a frown.
Details? Seriously?
Seeing Darcy look so upset only reminded me how long it had been since I had a real friend—someone I could talk to about anything. I must admit, it felt good.
