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Fuck buddy?
I have no idea what they are. I’m not even sure whatweare to each other. There are feelings. That’s there. The magnetic field that pulls us in is just that. It’s not a future or a world that contains happiness apart from that tiny, powerful field.
“You’re an asshole, Jac—”
“That’s besides the point.”
“Tell me why I shouldn’t just shoot you now.”
He thinks about it for a few moments. “I’ll ruin this fine suit and your carpet.”
“There’s no carpet.”
“The suit?”
“You won’t be needing it if I shoot you.”
“Oh,” he says, deadpan, “you’re aiming to kill. Pity.”
“Jac, just…”
“Magdalena, look, Iamsorry. I didn’t…” He pauses, and I can almost hear him thinking. “It went further than it should have. Not the sex, but how it went down.”
“I still don’t want you touching me. You bruised my face.”
He frowns, narrows his eyes, and I’m betting he’s zeroing in on the faint remainder of the bruise, a slight green and yellow hue now. And I can almost see his reaction, like someone just punched him in the guts. “Fuck.”
“So you get why I want you to leave.”
Jac sits, takes a few swallows of my whiskey, and I can almost see the wheels turn as he tries to find the best approach. If I were naïve, or maybe a better man, I’d think he was trying to make things better.
But it’s Jac. He’s trying to get back on track with his plans. He wants the necklace which he can’t have, and he wants her to get it, which she won’t. He also wants to destroy me. With her help.
I know fucking Jac Miller.
“I came here to talk, MG,” he says. “Can I?”
“What about, Jac?”
And there it is, right beneath the contrition, the glint of purpose. I should go and throw him out on his ass. But I want to know, too.
And that contrition? It’s keeping him alive. “First, MG…I…” He shakes his head, swallowing. “I never set out to hurt you. You like it rough, and… Shit. I’m sorry. I’m fucking sorry, okay? I let it get out of control.”
I can’t move.
Holy fucking everything.
Jac Miller just—
It hits me then. Him turning up, him dressing up. Him trying to scoff and act like it was nothing and him letting her point the gun when he could have it off her in seconds.
Jac Miller’s feeling bad over what he did. He’s looking to apologize and he’s totally shit at it, but…
Yeah.
And for him, he just groveled. Badly, but Jac never does that. Ever.
“Well wow,” she says, the sarcasm dripping, “you’re sorry. What a man.”
