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“You do that,” I clip, unable to be nice. “I’ll work on eating all my pie,” I shoot him a glare that I don’t think he sees because his eyes are on the road.
“I’m going to fix that, too,” he adds.
“I have not lost any weight!” I yell at him. He glances over at me and shakes his head.
I don’t think I have, but I don’t own a scale. Those things are the devil and I’m not letting one into my place.
“Trust me, I would know.”
What does he really care? If I lost any weight it would be because I lost my appetite. I moped around for weeks after I saw him with that woman. I want to facepalm myself now that I know it was his sister, but I feel a little better at the knowledge.
Still, it’s been months since I saw him. There could have been others and I’m sure there were. I add fuel to my own fire for good measure because I need to keep my anger or I’ll fold like a cheap chair under his touch. So much came rushing back when I was sitting in his mother’s kitchen. Hell, when he’d been fighting with his brother over me I had a sick satisfaction at watching it play out.
I shouldn’t have enjoyed the jealousy I saw all over Jason’s face, but I loved every single second of it. I’d feel guilty if Jon hadn’t laughed off the fight afterwards. I’m sure growing up together it might have been normal. Not that I would know. Before today I had no idea Jason had siblings because he never told me those things. Everything was so single layer when I think back on it. It’s almost as though he was scared to get too close to me or didn’t want to, but it’s not adding up with the way he’s acting now. The things he’s saying sound crazy and I can’t understand any of it.
I shouldn’t judge him about the not sharing part though. I hadn’t told him about my past either. My family isn’t in my life and I moved to get away from them. Thank god they haven’t come looking for me. For all I know they turned their noses up when they found me and let me be. But either way I don’t care because I don’t want a relationship with my parents. They were nothing like Jason’s mom. That women has mother written all over her and she’s the kind of mom everyone wants.
“I don’t trust anything about you,” I say to him because I can’t hold back what I’m feeling. “You still haven’t said you aren’t in the mob,” I add, and he doesn’t laugh this time.
“While I want your trust, I don’t need it.” He shrugs, but it’s stiff this time. “I’ll make sure you eat the pie.”
“You’re not coming in.” I point my finger at him as he pulls up to a spot in front of my building.
“Sure I’m not.” He winks before grabbing all the pies between us and hopping out. I watch as he comes around and opens my door for me.
“You stole my pies,” I mutter in defeat.
I’ll have to let him up now if I want them. He holds out his hand to help me out of the truck, but I ignore it. It’s better if we don’t touch. I wince when my feet hit the ground and the pain from my scraped knees comes back. Jason lets out a curse and he shouts to the guy at the small newspaper stand nearby.
“Billy,” he calls out, and the guy comes running over.
“Hey, Mr. Fisher.” He smiles to Jason. “How are you doing today?”
My eyes dart between them. How the heck do they know each other? The older man never talks and I hardly know him. Everything is always “yes,” “no,” or “we’re out.”
“I could use a hand,” he tells Billy as he hands him the boxes of pies. Then he wraps an arm around me.
I go to pull back from him, but he lifts me into his arms before I can. “I’m fine,” I say through gritted teeth. I can walk, but it feels good to be in his arms again. I said I was fine, but I rest my head on his shoulder anyway and breathe him in.
“Billy can’t leave his stand. Come back for the pie,” I say against his neck.
“I don’t trust you either, Sky.” Jason clips the words but doesn’t sound mad at me. Instead his voice is filled with self-loathing. I lift my head to glare at him. “If I left them in the car and came back for them you wouldn’t let me back into your place. I know you’d lock the door.”
I would. “Someone could steal from Billy’s stand,” I counter, not denying that I would lock him out. But then I wouldn’t get my pies. Damn, that’s a double-edged sword.
