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The inside of her house is… white. And immaculate. And completely clutter-free. Not at all what I had pictured the few times I let my mind go there. There’s a small living room with a couch, a white coffee table, and a TV on a bookshelf—also white. The kitchen’s on the left, and to the side is a hallway, which I assume leads to the bedroom and bathroom. The space is compact, but it’s more than enough for one person. I wonder for a moment how it felt when her mom was around.
The house gets blanketed in darkness when Jamie closes the door behind us, then flicks on the light switch. Nothing happens. “Oh, no,” Jamie says, flicking the switch on and off a few times. “I swear I paid the bill,” she murmurs, and my stomach sinks as I watch her use the flashlight on her phone to go to the kitchen. She pulls out a folder from a cabinet, and I go to part the curtains. No light comes through because a piece of cardboard covers the entire window.
The cardboard, too, is white.
“Too many creeps around,” she mumbles, and she’s too distracted by whatever she’s doing; she doesn’t seem to notice the visceral reaction I have to that one statement. “I knew I paid it,” she almost yells, and then she just stands there, in the dark, her figure only half illuminated by the light of her phone.
“Maybe it’s a mistake,” I offer. I don’t really know how this shit works. The only times I’ve even looked at a bill was when I went through Dad’s finances at the farm to make sure he could make it through another season.
“It’s never happened before,” she says, and I wish I could go to her, comfort her somehow, but I’ve never really beenthatguy. At least, not with anyone besides Mia. Dean is that guy. But Dean is also a dick, so… “Shit…” She grabs her keys from the kitchen counter and marches back toward me, grabbing me by my arm, before leading me to her front door. She turns and yanks on the doorknob three times before it finally swings open, andDeanshould’ve fixed the fucking door for her.
By the time we get outside, her nails are digging into my forearm, but she’s so clearly pissed, I’m afraid to even mention it. “Stop me from killing him,” she says over her shoulder, stomping through the trailer park and past a group of trailers way beyond their life expectancy.
“Killing who?” I ask, wincing when her fingernails dig deeper. I can’t even imagine how we must look. Me at 6’4” and her attiny—dragging my gigantic ass across the dry, dirt ground. She stops at a trailer at the front of the park and slams her fist on the door. “Calm down,” I tell her, and if looks could kill… she just knocked me out with a single glare. And also maybe gave me a half-chub because Angry Jamie is insanely hot. I’ll be sure to tell her. Later. When my life or the life of whoever is on the other side of that door isn’t in question.
A guy in his mid-thirties answers, dressed in boxer shorts and what I’m sure was once a white tank top. “’Sup, Jamie?” he says. “Got rid of that preppy asshole, I see.” His gaze drops to her tits, and I take a step forward.
“You shut off my power, Jayden?” Jamie sneers.
Jayden shrugs, pulls a cigarette from behind his ear, and sparks it. Through a ribbon of smoke, he says, “And water.”
“Why?”
“You were short on your rent.”
“It was twenty dollars!”
“Still short.”
I pull out my wallet and hand him a fifty. “Here, turn it back on.”
“Holden!” Jamie yells, but the guy’s already taken it from me.
“Can’t,” he says. “Maintenance is out until Monday morning. I’ll make sure he gets to it first thing.” He slams the door in our faces.
Jamie turns to me, that glare in place, arms crossed over her decent rack. “You just gave him fifty dollars.”
“I know.”
“Don’t fucking do that again, Holden!” She’sbeyondpissed, and now she’s storming back to her house, dirt flying with each one of her stomps. “I don’t need you or anyone else saving me.”
I tell her, “It’s just money. You’ll pay me back.”
She spins on her heels so fast I almost knock into her. “That’s not the point!”
Oh, God, she’s about to cry.Icannotsee her cry. I clear my throat, stand taller. “You’re very pretty.”What the fuck is wrong with me?
“What?”
“I mean, you’re insanely hot when you’re mad like this… but… but you’re pretty always.”Shoot me. In the head. Right now.“I just thought you should know…”Jesus Christ. Stop talking. Stop talking. Stop talking!
Big hazel eyes, blink, blink, blink. Again and again. Until the tears are gone.Thank God. “Well… thank you.”
I shrug, my muscles loosening with relief. “You’re welcome.”
She starts walking again, this time with more reasonable steps. “I mean it, though, don’t do that again.”
“Okay,” I say.
