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My chest constricts as the sob attempts to find its way out. “I am not special!”
“And that’s the other reason, Ruby. You’re a mess—not your fault—but you can’t get self-esteem boosts from guys like him.”
“You don’t understand at all!” I half-yell. “You and your perfect middle-class upbringing. Your loving family who pay for you to live in London and follow your dreams. There isn’t one thing you struggle with. So don’t judge me! You don’t know me!”
“I’ve known you over a year and I’ve stood back when I shouldn’t. I’m not again. Don’t get messed up by someone else who’s fucked in the head. Underneath, Jem’s no different to the other asshole you were involved with.”
“Fuck you!” I yell, the sound echoing along the corridor.
“He’s probably right, Ruby.” I turn to the familiar voice. Jem stands a few feet away, lines creasing his forehead as he looks between us. “I shouldn’t have tried to go there with you.”
“I knew it! What did he do?” Jax straightens, face hardening as he watches Jem.
“Nothing!” I snap at Jax.
“Everything’s too hard. I can’t get involved with anybody else’s drama.” Jem crosses the hallway and hands me the keycard to his room. Our hands touch and I jerk my fingers away.
I could’ve kissed him. I wanted to—so close to giving in, and giving myself.
“I’m driving back to London tonight. Use my room, Ruby. When you get back tomorrow, we need to talk about a few things.” He looks to Jax. “All of you. I’m not stupid. I can smell the drugs in that room.”
Jax stares at his bare feet like a scolded child. “Sorry,” he mumbles.
“Yeah, decide on your priorities because I’m not managing a bunch of stoners. Your music should come first. See you tomorrow.”
Jem pulls his phone out and scrolls through the screen as he walks away. I stare after his retreating figure, stunned by the turn of the evening.
“What a fucking hypocrite,” says Jax. “He’s the biggest stoner of them all!”
I itch to slap Jax and his immature understanding of Jem’s situation as a recovering addict. “Maybe take his life as a warning.” I head away from him. Nothing would persuade me to go back into the hotel room I share with them. “And have some respect!” I call, not looking back.
Jem’s room is empty apart from the guitar I played before. He left it for me. This lances pain into my heart because I bet Jem heard me play at night when I was staying with him and I couldn’t sleep. He’s aware tonight will be difficult. He’s wrong. I’m exhausted because the events of the evening dragged the remaining energy from me. I don’t touch the guitar, instead, I crawl into the soft bed and wait for sleep.
Jem was right. I’m wrong. Sleep doesn’t come easily. I’m in the bed Jem once slept in and I breathe in the scent of him. Jem came so close to kissing me, and if I hadn’t turned my head, I wouldn’t have yielded to him but to the hidden desire for Jem I deny every day. But he’ll take advantage of my vulnerability, use me, and break apart the pieces I’m gradually slotting back together.
