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“Hey, Jethro. Where are you?” a voice calls from somewhere in the shop.
It’s Candy’s voice, and I sigh, scrubbing a hand over my face. “Here.”
The display is done, books propped facing outward all pretty and nice, and fuck if they don’t like it. The customers, that is. I hope Candy likes it. I hope this stint will work out—that I can keep this job, and keep from jumping her again the moment she comes close.
But when she appears in front of me, eyes warm and lips parted, the taste of them still lingering in my mouth, I don’t know if I can do this.
I wanna say, fuck Joel. Fuck everyone. I want her. I want to kiss her again, touch her, explore her body. Sink inside her.
But Joel’s all the family I have. I’d do anything not to piss him off. Even hide who I really am, and how much I want him.
So yeah. Add to that the tiny detail of my missing diploma, and I don’t think this is gonna work out. A shame.
I really shouldn’t start punching walls while at work—while on my first day at work, no less. With Candy staring at me like I’m an unexploded grenade.
“What?” I grind out. “What is it?”
“Are you okay?”
And that’s when I realize my hands are curled into white-knuckled fists, and my jaw is clenched tight. Well, excuse me, world, it’s been a damn hard couple of weeks.
“Yeah, peachy.”
“Jethro…” She reaches for me and I jerk back, even as my body is straining toward her. “Crap, I’m sorry.”
“Not your damn fault. I’m fine.”
“You don’t understand, I—”
“Nothing to be sorry for. I’m good.” I swallow hard, my mouth dry. “It’s on me. I assumed stuff I had no business assuming. I didn’t know you’re the girl Joel has a crush on.” I draw a deeper breath. “Is he gone?”
“He has a crush on me?”
This time I turn and drive my fist into the closest shelf, sending two books crashing to the floor.
She gasps. Reaches for me again.
Breathing hard, I step out of her reach and start toward the exit, pushing aside a cart full of books and bumping my hip into a heavy chair.
“Where are you going?” She’s hurrying after me, dammit.
“Out.”
“Wait.”
I shove the door and step outside, the noise of traffic slamming into me. I start down the avenue, wishing I had my smokes with me.
“Jethro.”
Fuck, she’s followed me out. I ignore her as best I can, opening my stride, no clue where I’m going.
It’s gonna be fine, I tell myself. I will control the urge to press my body to hers, my mouth to her lips. I’ll keep my head down and work. I’ll help Joel regain his sex drive and get the girl, and once in a while I will allow myself to jack off to fantasies of them together.
I kick at a wall in passing, garnering sour looks from passersby.
It sucks. But I’ll get over it. Got over lots of much worse things in the past. This is nothing. Just because I want her doesn’t mean I get to have her.
God knows I learned that lesson, received the message loud and clear many times over.
