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Tears sting my eyes, but I feel too beautiful to cry. “Fifty-fifty.”
“Stubborn,” she says with a snicker. “Okay. You’ve got yourself a deal and a dress.”
After ringing up the purchase, we head back to the house. We find Jace sitting on the steps in his usual cloud of smoke when we get there. With the dress bag draped over my shoulder, I stroll up the stairs, but Jace grabs me by the ankle. “Whatcha got there?”
“A dress.”
Darkness falls over his expression. “For what?”
“If you must know, it’s for prom.”
“You’re actually letting that pompous asshole take you to prom?”
I scowl. “Jealous?”
He flicks his cigarette into the yard and stands. “I don’t give a shit what you do.” He stomps down to the yard and struts toward the garage.
“There you go again, running off to pout like an oversized toddler.”
He stops short, then slowly turns. His gaze is a razor slicing me open right here on the porch. “I don’t pout.”
I cock my head. “Oh no? Then what do you call this? You drop hate, then storm away. That’s not how adults communicate.”
The vein in his neck throbs. “Let me remind you that you were the one who did the walkin’ last time. I asked you to stay.”
“No. You asked me for sex. It’s not the same thing.”
“What do you want from me, Ellie?” His arms go up in defeat as he slams against the house frame. "What more can you honestly fucking expect?" His booming voice scares a flock of birds from the trees above. They caw as they fly overhead, drowning out the heavy thump of my heart.
He advances, pushing me back against the house. The bag slides off my arm and pools between us. I stave off the fear coursing my blood and match his stare. If he expects me to wilt like a flower at his feet, he can think again. I'm not that girl anymore. I won’t give in to his foolish games. I tried to do it his way but realized too late that he had the home-court advantage. I was never meant to win. From here on out, I simply refuse to play.
“I don’t want anything from you.”
“Really?" he challenges. "Fine. I’ll fucking tell you what I want, then.” He drops his hand to the prominent bulge in his jeans and gives it a squeeze. “I want to tie you up and lick every inch of your body.” He moves in closer, his ragged breath cascading my ear. “I want to taste the last shreds of your innocence on my tongue until you beg me to fuck you harder.” He noses up my jaw and tugs on my lobe with his teeth. "But you know what, princess? I won't. I'll fuck you slowly, so slowly you’ll rage with want and hate, so much that when I finally do shove my stiff cockso deep inside you, you cry out real tears until your face is as wet as your pussy.”
My body trembles from within. The fact that I still want all of this, all of him, makes my skin prickle with heat. My body edges toward him in an act of ultimate betrayal. “That’s really all I am to you, isn’t it? Tears and a hot lay?”
He fists my shirt with both hands, burying his face in my neck. “Just don’t go with him.” His husky whisper wobbles like a choppy sea. I’m stuck on a life raft, trying my best not to get swallowed by the waves, but each one is more violent than the last. All I can do is cover my head and pray I don’t get sucked into the undertow.
It takes every ounce of willpower I can to pull myself from the warmth of his body. I know as soon as I do, the ache inside will eat me alive. “I’m sorry, Jace.” I twist the handle until the door pops open, then back into the house, closing the door on Jace the way he closed the door on my heart. With a silent prayer for strength, I leave them both on the other side.
Chapter nineteen
“What do you think?”
Jolene lifts a flutter-sleeve blouse with her fingertips and cocks her head. “Honestly? I think they’re great.”
Warmth pools in my belly. Over the past several days, I’d sewn my fingers to the bone. Late nights and early mornings. I hid in my room until I’d used up every last scrap of fabric. “I tried to make pieces that coordinate together so nothing is random.”
“You did some damn fine work here. I’m impressed.”
“Thank you.”
“Course, now we gotta see if the rest of the population agrees.”
My chest tightens. The real moment of truth will be in the sales. I remind myself that Hell’s Bend, Texas, isn’t my target demographic. This is my first attempt at a designer line, and if people don’t like them, I will try again. Yet as I attach the anti-theft tags, I can’t help but leave a tiny piece of my soul dangling off the rack.
The fear of failure sits at the base of my skull, chipping away at my self-confidence.
