For Real (Rules of Love, Book One) (21 page)

“Agreed.”

We demolish half of the cake as the Beave tries once more to get himself out of a situation. The episode finishes and all is well. Big shocker. There’s something comforting about a show like that. You know exactly what’s going to happen and at the end of the day, everything turns out fine.

“I want an apron,” I say as another episode starts.

“I’ll get you one for your birthday.” I set the cake tray back on the table. I’m full, but I still feel like shit. The cake was supposed to fix everything.

“You still don’t wanna talk about it?” Hazel says.

“Nope,” I answer. She shrugs and goes back to watching the show.

Hazel goes to bed early, which is great for me. I stay in the living room watching random television, waiting for Jett. I’ve been staring at my phone every few minutes, waiting for a text. I guess I could text him first, but I’m scared.

I’m scared that he’s going to safe word. There is no way that this is worth it for him. He might as well just end it here.

Finally around 11, I get a message.

Is the coast clear?

I dash to Hazel’s room and put my ear to the door. Her soft deep breathing greets me, but I listen for a few minutes just to make sure. Yup, she’s out.

Come on over.

I go to the kitchen and make two cups of tea, one of which is in the bear mug for him. I also change into the mint green outfit, but I put a robe I’d also bought at the store over it so I’m not wearing a lace getup while lounging in my kitchen. That would be a little weird. And cold.

I’m here.

I rush to the door and open it ever so slowly. My heart goes frenetic at the sight of Jett in a sweatshirt and shorts.

“Hi,” I whisper, leaning against the door.

“Hi,” he says, his hands shoved in the pocket of the sweatshirt. “Can I come in? It’s kinda cold out here.”

“Oh, yeah.” I move back to let him in and then shut the door as quietly as I can behind him.

“I think Hazel is asleep, but we should probably go to my room.” I grab the two mugs of tea and tiptoe to my room. Hazel’s room is off the living room, and mine is off the kitchen, so they’re far enough away that most sound doesn’t carry. Thank God.

I shut the door and Jett sits down on my bed. I hand him the bear mug and sit down next to him, pulling my knees up and setting my tea on them.

Jett’s the first to speak. “That sucked, Shan.”

“Completely. What was it like after I left?” He sips his tea before he answers.

“Javi wanted me to go after you, and I had to pretend that I didn’t want to. Then he called me an asshole and left and hasn’t been back to the apartment. And then I came over here. I’m really, really sorry about what I said. I know it was fake, but I’m still sorry.” I bump his shoulder with mine.

“It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it, and I’m not that sensitive.” God, I’m such a liar.

“Good. So can we make up now? The bear really wants to know.” He holds the mug up and I laugh.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Yes, we are made up.” I set my mug down on my dresser and take the bear from him.

“Good,” Jett says, and then he pulls me forward for a soft kiss. Or at least it starts with the intention of soft. But then my mouth opens and somehow our tongues get involved and before I know it, the robe is falling away from my shoulders and my lips are swollen and throbbing and my head and my mouth are filled with Jett.

He breaks away from me and pulls back to look at my outfit. I’m still standing and he’s sitting on the edge of my bed with me between his legs.

“What are you wearing?” Until this point, all of my nighttime attire has been pretty modest. This is the most skin of mine he’s ever seen at one time.

“I got it today. Do you . . . do you like it?” His hands move down my shoulders, barely touching me. They move down my sides, skimming just over the lace and then skip across my stomach.

“Yeah,” he says, swallowing, not taking his eyes off me. “Yeah, I do.” His hands are big and warm and they make me throb everywhere. And judging by his shorts, I’m not the only one affected.

“Jett—” I start to say, but he interrupts me.

“Perspicacious,” he whispers.

He takes his hands away from my sides and stands, moving around me. I grab his arm to stop him, but he gives me such a pained look that I let go.

With one final look, he shuts my door and then I hear the front door close as well.

I crumple and luckily find my bed before I fall to the floor.

Oh. My. God.

One moment I thought we were going to . . . and then he . . .

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. My phone vibrates, startling me.

I’m sorry.

Just two words. They don’t explain anything. Not what had happened between us, or why he had left. Or why he had used the safe word.

So I answer his text with three letters.

Why?

I set my phone on the bed and wait for an answer.

I wait for twenty minutes. The tea is cold by now and the bear mug is glaring at me, so I turn it around so it will stop judging me.

I wait another half hour and realize that he’s not going to answer me. So I turn off the light and go to bed.

Cold and alone.

“Wake up!” Something soft smashes me in the face, and I open my eyes.

“Are you awake yet?” Hazel yells. Jesus Christ.

“I am now,” I moan. I’d spent most of the night tossing and turning and reaching for something, but not finding it. Doesn’t take a genius to know what that’s about.

“Get up. The day is a-wasting.” What the crap is she talking about? It’s Sunday. We don’t have to be up for anything on Sunday.

“You’re insane,” I say, trying to pull the blankets over my head, but that causes Hazel to rip them away from me. She jumps on my bed and sticks her face in mine.

“We’re going to get your mind off your boyfriend issues and it starts now. Come on.” I listen and realize there are voices outside my door. Seriously, what the hell is up with this?

“Is she up yet?” Cass yells through the door.

“Almost,” Hazel calls back. This is unbelievable.

“Come on, rise and shine. Or at least rise. You don’t have to shine. You can be as non-shiny as you want, but just GET UP.” She smacks me with the pillow again and that’s it. I grab it away from her and smash her in the face with it.

“That’s my girl,” she says, taking my arm and pulling me upright. I’m still wearing the lace number. Looking down at myself makes me remember last night and I don’t want to remember last night. Hazel hands me the robe and I put it on, making sure everything is covered. Then she drags me out into the kitchen, where the rude awakening continues. A Styrofoam cup of coffee is shoved into one hand, a donut in the other.

The whole gang is here, and they’re all painfully perky, but they’re all wearing concern on their faces as well. God, it’s like someone died.

“Chop, chop,” Hazel says, clapping her hands in my ear. I am going to KILL her. Instead, I sip my coffee and munch my donut.

Either they all decided to get together and randomly cheer me up, or Hazel called all of them and hatched this plan. When, I have no idea. Maybe she was busy texting on her phone last night when I thought she was sleeping.

I finish my breakfast under the watchful eyes of my friends. It’s a little like being in a zoo. I just want them to act normal, but I suppose that is too much to ask.

“Okay, someone has to say something or else I’m going to go back to bed,” I say tossing my coffee cup.

“Since this is your first fight with your boyfriend, we thought you would need a little cheering up,” Cass finally says. The rest of them nod like bobble heads.

“We just had a fight, guys.” Or at least that was what happened before the safe word happened. I have no idea what’s going to happen now. I mean, is this THE END, the end?

I need to
talk
to Jett. I don’t think texting is going to work. I’ve got to do this face-to-face. I guess it will have to wait, though, until after whatever shenanigans these bitches have planned.

“Oh, honey,” Jordyn says, her drawl even thicker than normal. It seems to come out more when she’s comforting someone. She wraps her arms around me and gives me a hug. I have to hand it to her, she’s a really good hugger. Must be a southern thing, along with the comforting voice.

I hug her back, but I am not breaking down. Not until I know for sure, for sure.

Apparently, the way to get over heartache is to go to a salon, and steep yourself in chemicals while you get your nails done, followed by seeing a movie with the most shirtless guys per minute, followed by a most fattening lunch. Not that I don’t like any of those things, but when they prevent me from seeing Jett, I resent them, just a little.

I try to have fun, but it’s kind of miserable. They do their best, making me laugh and looking for new guys to help me “get over him.”

“The fastest way to get over someone is to get under someone else. Especially since he was your first. You know. If it doesn’t work out,” Daisy says.

“We just had a fight,” I repeat. They all give each other sad faces, like I’m delusional.

“Well, you didn’t start dating him under the best circumstances,” Cass says. Yeah, and whose fault is that? I glare and they all have the sense to look guilty.

“We,” Hazel says, motioning to the collective and then sighing. “We’ve been talking, a lot, and we feel like assholes. For taking your keys at the bar and pressuring you into getting with Jett. It wasn’t right and we’re sorry. All of us. You were so upset when you fought with him and we feel responsible.” They all nod like one person.

I cross my arms. This should have been said a while ago. It’s kind of a little too late. Now that they’re apologizing, I realize how much this has been bothering me lately, and how much I’ve been brushing it off, and trying to be non-confrontational about it. This is what happens when you let things fester over time.

And then I lose it.

“Oh you’re sorry now? Fuck you very much for that. I’m so glad that you are sorry NOW, WAY after the fact. It should have never happened in the first place! You’re supposed to be my fucking friends and you treated me like shit. I’m done.” The rage that had been quietly simmering since that night erupts and if I don’t leave, I’m going to say a lot of other things.