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He’s being ridiculous. I won’t get slaughtered in my own house.
Right?
Right.
My eyes grow so wide, I’m sure they’ll pop right out of my head and roll to his feet. I glance toward Sam for help, but he’s useless to me. All he offers is a shrug and, “It’s not a bad idea, honey.”
Because it’s a terrible idea.
It’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard.
Jake takes another menacing step toward me, and I take another one back.
We’ve resumed the dance.
“What about Jay-Jay? It’s not good for him to see you take a random woman home.”
I swear, there’s a shadow of a smirk playing on his lips.
Asshole.
“I’m not taking you home to have you screaming my name every night.”
For the love of all that is right in the world, why did I just clench my thighs?
“And you’re not some random woman. Jay-Jay is crazy about you, and you know it.”
Goddammit.
He just managed to turn me on and melt my heart all at once.
Not fair.
I open my mouth to respond, but I stutter, my tongue tangling around the words I want to say.
He takes another step forward and I shuffle back, but he’s getting closer, like a wild animal hunting his prey.
“Get your things, Claire. Now,” he demands, all hint of amusement leaving his tone. “Don’t fucking test me on this.”
It’s in this moment, a condition I don’t have a name for, but has plagued me since childhood, wins out in my inner turmoil. And when my mouth opens next, it isn’t to argue with him, but a wave of uncontrollable laughter erupts from my throat, causing my shoulders to shake and my stomach to ache.
I know both men are probably looking at me like I’ve grown extra limbs, but it’s a nervous reaction. I can’t help it.
Scrubbing the flesh of my palms across my cheeks to wipe the tears, I try to say, “I’m so sorry.” But I only giggle more.
“Are you laughing?” Jake asks slowly, unsure how to deal with me and my poorly timed outburst. “Seriously?”
“I’m sorry. I’ll stop,” I trail off, only to burst into another fit of uncontrollable giggles.
“Is she okay?” I hear Sam’s voice, but I can’t see him because of the tears blurring my vision, and my cackling is drowning out all other sounds.
“Who made my sister nervous?” It’s Amy, but I can’t see a thing because I’m hunched over, and my stomach is cramping. “What’s going on?”
With a calming breath, I try to stifle it long enough to explain. “I’m sorry. I have terrible fight-or-flight instincts, and I freeze. Especially when someone is prowling after me like you are. I get nervous and laugh.”
Jake stands so straight I think I hear his spine snap.
He’s not any fun.
