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I smiled at her brightly, hoping to soften the blow of Jack’s taciturn behavior. “Nice to meet you, too, Casey. Hope to see you around.”
Casey smiled in appreciation. “Yes, hope to see you, too.” With one last look at Jack, she turned and hurried out the door of the restaurant.
I started spearing my scrambled eggs. “You could have been nicer to her, you know.”
Jack shrugged and continued shoveling hash browns in his mouth. “I guess. She knows what I’m like, Ava. Anyway, I wanted her to understand how I felt about what happened to your car.”
I looked at him in surprise, having a new appreciation for how he dealt with Casey. Although, I thought it was unnecessary and bordered into asshole territory, there was no way to mistake his displeasure about what happened to my car.
I nodded my head. “I suppose it makes sense to send the word to Shelby, if she’s the one who messed with my car. Casey seems so nice, and you both make Shelby seem so…difficult.”
Jack snorted. “That’s an understatement.”
“Why would Casey hang out with her? I mean, I barely know Casey, but she seemed nice enough.”
Jack took a sip of his coffee and nodded his head. “I never understood why Shelby’s friends hang out with her. She’s a real bitch.”
I knew I shouldn’t give in to the impulse, but I did. “You hung out with her.”
Jack put down his fork and stared at me. “Ava, you sure you want to go down this road?”
I picked at my food, definitely not sure I wanted to go down this road, but unable stop myself from talking. “I’m just saying,” I grumbled.
His dark green eyes hardened slightly as they bored into mine. “First of all, we didn’t hang out. We didn’t talk, we didn’t eat together, we didn’t really even socialize. We fucked. That’s it. I don’t usually hand out personality tests beforehand.”
I felt heat rush to my face in a combination of discomfort, awkwardness, and twinges of anger, even though I’d started this whole, stupid conversation. I cleared my throat, not certain how to feel, let alone respond.
“Yeah, well, um, I figured–”
“Second of all,” he cut me off. “We have nothing to do with each other anymore, unlike her friends who actually do hang out with her.”
I cleared my throat again, struggling to find something to say. I felt like I detonated a landmine, and it kept exploding in my face.
“I – I didn’t mean to sound judgmental.”
“Are you done eating?”
I blinked at the sudden change of topic. “Uh, yeah, I’m done.”
Jack pulled out his wallet and threw down a twenty-dollar bill, well beyond what was needed to cover the check. “Good, let’s get out of here so I can fix your car.”
I followed Jack’s stiff-shouldered gait into the parking lot, regretting how our conversation unfolded. I knew I made him feel defensive, but I couldn’t stop the words from coming out of my mouth. As we got into the car and he pulled on his sunglasses, his face was a blank slate. He was shut down in a way that made me aware of just how much he had opened up during our night together.
I didn’t like how much I already missed it.
****
Chapter 20
Jack
I walked into the cafeteria on Wednesday and was brought up short when I saw Ava sitting with Mike Crenshaw. What the fuck was she doing with him? I took the opportunity to stare at her for a moment. God, she was beautiful. Today, she was wearing black leggings, maybe the same ones I’d watched her peel off on Friday night, and some white, loose-fitting top and a long cardigan. Her thick, blonde hair, was loose, but she’d tucked it behind her ears as she looked down at whatever she and Mike were working on. I felt my fist clench as I remembered tunneling my fingers through that soft, thick hair.
After fixing her car, she drove off, and we hadn’t spoken since. I’d managed to avoid her completely in chemistry, not even daring to look in her direction. When I’d explained to her how I’d conducted my relationship with Shelby, I was jarred to realize how different I was treating Ava. I was treating her like she was my fucking girlfriend, and she was judging me like one. So, I disengaged, like I always do.
That didn’t mean I didn’t search for her scent on the pillow she’d used, because to my disgust, I did. I’d never had this reaction to a girl after sex. Usually, after sex any interest I’d had was gone, and moving on to someone else felt inevitable. I’d slept with Shelby a few more times than other girls because I’d gotten sick of the routine and she was easy. It sounded harsh, but it was true.
Ava, though. This thing with Ava felt totally different. Instead of sex killing my interest in her, it had done the opposite. I jerked off countless times to the memory of our night together, reliving what we’d done and thinking of what I wanted to do next. I’d managed to ignore her the last couple of days, but to my supreme irritation, she hadn’t made it that challenging. She’d made no effort to engage me, like most girls did. No texts, no glances, no “accidental” run-ins. It was starting to piss me off, and now this. Her, sitting next to Mike Crenshaw’s Ichabod-Crane- looking ass.
