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I purse my lips, wondering why a stranger would say this based on what I just said. So what if I have a female best friend? People have this odd perception that a man and woman can’t just be friends.
“I’m not in love with her.”
“Are you sure about that? You speak a lot about her, and when you do, your face lights up. Considering you’re on a date with me, with the potential to get laid tonight, it speaks volumes, does it not?”
I glance at Chloe as she watches me with a knowing look, surprised she would come to such a conclusion. It’s only minutes later I realize she mentioned getting laid.
But it didn’t matter. I’m not in the mood to climb into bed with another woman who wants me to worship her so she can brag about it to her friends.
I’m not in love with Jessa. I can’t be. Sure, I have feelings for her, of protection. After all, I’ve known her my entire life. I’d lose my shit if anyone hurt her.
The event kicks off with awards and various speeches, but the longer I sit amongst these people, the more I realize how much I don’t want to be here. Not to look like a dick, I stick it out until Chloe finds another guy to latch onto, which is my cue to leave. I don’t even say goodbye since I’ll never see her again.
As I exit the event, wandering Sunset Boulevard, I need to see for myself if there’s any truth to what everyone else can supposedly see besides me.
Surely, I can’t be that blind when it comes to my feelings.
I drive over to Jessa’s condo and knock on the door. It’s past midnight, so chances are she’s asleep, but this isn’t the first time I’ve turned up at some godawful hour.
She opens the door, dressed in my Lakers tee she won from me in a bet and bed shorts. They’re short, exposing all her tanned legs. I pull my gaze away from her legs and onto her flushed face. Her hair is out, the curls falling down her arms. I ache to reach out and run my hands through them as I’ve done many times before, but her face looks less than pleased I’m standing in front of her.
“Were you sleeping?”
“No, reading.”
“Romance again?”
“Maybe…anyway, what are you doing here?” She crosses her arms beneath her chest, yet I try my best to ignore how tattered the fabric is of my favorite shirt and how her tits are bare without a bra. Jessa is all natural, nothing at all like the plastic women I’d been surrounded by tonight. “Aren’t you supposed to be on some date and motorboating right now?”
“You didn’t learn that term by yourself and need to stop talking to Eric.”
I walk inside the apartment without an invite but pace the living room as she closes the door. She walks to the bedroom, ignoring me, and climbs into bed with her book. Only the small bedside light is on, illuminating the room.
When it comes to reading, Jessa loves paperbacks with a whole room full of them. But, of course, being a writer is something she loves, so naturally, she loves reading, though she’s doing some freelance writing for a local magazine. It’s why she spent so much time at my place growing up since Dad is a writer, and the two of them could talk for hours.
Removing my shoes and suit jacket, I climb into bed beside her as she picks up her book and ignores me. The cover has some guy in a suit, probably some billionaire story which makes me want to roll my eyes.
“What’s with you and billionaires?” I yawn.
“What’s with you and big tits?”
“That was Eric and Rocky. I never said I liked them.”
“Every guy likes them,” she drags.
“Hmm…” I murmur. “That’s not true. I like yours, maybe if you show me…”
“Fat chance,” she grumbles, then ignores me for her book again.
My eyelids begin to fall, the smell of her on the pillows always puts me to sleep like it’s some drug. As my dreams begin to shift, I see his face.
The color of his skin is pale, but there’s a glow, not sickly or anything.
His bright blond hair and deep blue eyes watch over me. I’m lying inside a crib, aware that I am, but he looks down with a loving smile. I can’t help but smile back, but then Lex comes and is wearing blue scrubs. Lex places his hand on my father’s shoulder, and then his skin turns ghostly white.
In the background, there’s the sound of sobbing. Then a high-pitched scream echoes down a sterile corridor.
I wake up in a panic, sitting up with my eyes wide, sweat covering my forehead.
