Jahleel (29 page)

“Fuck him,” I said, waving a dismissive hand.

“You did?”

“No.” I laughed nervously and smacked his shoulder. He caught my hand.

“But you want to?”

I looked at his hand holding mine, his artistic tattoos peeking out from beneath the sleeve of his blazer. A dust of blonde hair trailed from his wrist and faded out inches above his pinky finger, which had a gold snake ring wrapped around it.

That…hand.

Crap on crap, I was a mess.

“What I want,” I composed myself and tore my eyes away from his hand, “is some food in my stomach. Like, right now. I’m starved.”

“Well, then,” he said, smiling now. “Let’s get you fed.”

Pressing his palm flat on my lower back, he led me over to a large, rectangular, industrially-designed bar. The ongoing counter-top was laden with trays of pizza, barbecue ribs and wings, French fries, tacos, all the standard junk food.

Stomach rumbling at the sight, I grabbed a plate and loaded it up with everything, while Chad retrieved two bottles of Corona and popped them open.

Looking around, I opted for seats closest to where Jahleel lounged in the midst of my small but boisterous circle of people. Appearing unperturbed, he was relaxing next to Lion who chatted expressively about God knows what.

This was supposedly a stress relieving get together for me, but who the hell paid me any attention? No one. Except Chad.

I found a seat facing away from them, but close enough so I could overhear their conversation. Chad took the chair next to me, slightly turned so he partly faced them.

Once we were seated, I scooped up some avocado dip with a potato chip and crunched into it, probing around a mouthful, “Okay, spill it. What’s going on between you two?”

Face expressionless, Chad replied, “Pardon?”

Scooping up more avocado dip, I crunched again. “I don’t know you that well, but I do know you are precise, exact, far from impetuous. A few weeks ago, you wouldn’t have touched me so possessively without being sure where my feelings lie. You’re still not sure, yet you’re acting out of character. To prove a point to someone? That someone being JK?”

Taking a sip of his beer, he watched me for a beat, one brow raised. “You’re right in that you don’t know me. Not many people do. And you obviously don’t know
him
, either. My brother and I, we respect each other. We don’t do the ‘prove a point’ thing. Whenever there’s a…let’s say, common interest, we allow nature to take its course.”

Pointing a French fry at him, I called him out, “That’s not what you’re doing right now and you know it.”

Chad dipped his head smiling to himself. Without warning, he snatched the French fry from my fingers and popped it into his mouth. “Okay, I admit. Right now, I’m fucking with nature.”

I couldn’t help grinning. “Trying to sway the wind a little in your direction?”

Dropping his forearms to his knees, he leaned over so dangerously close I could feel his breath on my lips, hot, with a fading scent of peppermint. “You kissed me,” he breathed out. “
You
. Kissed. Me.” His head shook once. “You should’ve just let me be. You shouldn’t have given me a taste. Because now, I want
more
.”

Breath trapped in my throat, I watched his lips, parted, pink, enticing, as I waited with eager hunger for him to kiss me. But he didn’t.

Even though my back was turned to Jahleel, somehow, I felt his eyes drilling pissed-off holes in the back of my head. But, to hell with him for being an insensitive bugger.

Forcing the trapped breath from my throat, I regained the ability to speak. “I think I need to get some food in me…before I pass out.”

Chad leaned back and waved a hand at the loaded plate. “Eat.”

The next second, his cell rang from inside his jacket pocket, and he eased it out to look at the screen. “Gotta take this. Be right back,” he muttered, as he got up and disappeared to a quiet corner.

Resisting the urge to look behind me, I dug into the plate of greasy junk food and perked up my ears to eavesdrop on the joyous chattering behind me.

Twana was gossiping about her sister’s boyfriend who was supposedly the biggest douche on the planet. Apparently the couple was going through therapy because he was closed off and erratic. Twana was convinced he had some dark past eating away at him.

Lion, who knew the man personally, was laughing, saying the man only agreed to his girlfriend’s inane therapy idea to appease her, but nothing was really wrong with him. He was naturally a douche. Twana, Amanda, Amy and Jamie took turns throwing in their opinions on how all fucked-up men had dark, tragic pasts.

Jahleel was quiet throughout it all. Until he spoke.

“That’s the thing with you women. You always think there’s some psychological explanation for why a dude acts the way he does. You always think you can ‘save’ him, ‘change’ him. But really, most men come into the world as jackasses and assholes and will die as jackasses and assholes. Hard as you try, they can’t be
saved
by some
girl
, no matter how good she can ride or suck a cock. No matter how pretty, sexy she is. Sex is just sex. Looks fade. Feelings vanish as if they were never there. Shit goes deeper than that.”

There was a pause, long quietness, then, “Some assholes, you just have to
wait
for them. Don’t try to work on them or fix them. ‘Cuz that shit can’t be forced. Wait for them to decide to
live
life and not just
have
it. Not just keep it to themselves, refusing to share it with someone else. Because when they do decide to live, they won’t just share their life with you. They’ll give it to you completely. Giving themselves over to be fully and wholly
owned
.”

There was a moment of silence, then all at the once, the male voices erupted, “Word!!”

And the rowdiness resumed.

Chad came back at that point, reclaiming my attention.

We ate, laughed and chatted about things that didn’t matter. He was simply amazing, and I could see myself wanting him for more than sex. Too soon, his phone interrupted us again and he answered, speaking in Russian. As the conversation went on, his face grew taut, his voice was curt and riled, sounding like someone different. Someone dangerous.

“You still gonna be here about an hour from now?” he asked when he hung up.

“Not sure. Why?”

Getting to his feet, he buttoned his blazer. Sexy fucker. “Something I gotta go take care of.”

I gave him a thumbs up. “If I’m still here in an hour, I’ll text you.”

Head cocked to the side, he asked, “You got my number?”

“Yep.”

“
How
?”

“I got my sources.”

He stared me down, a strange gleam in his eyes, one I couldn’t fathom.

Scaring me straight, I was compelled to let on who I got his number from, so I spared, “Lion gave it to me.”

The strange look left his eyes at once, and he nodded then leaned over to kiss my cheek. “See you later, then.”

For some eerie reason, I decided to watch him as he walked away. He was still Chad.

But by the time he got to where Jahleel had drawn his imaginary threshold for Bitchy Sassy, Chad’s smooth, suave posture disappeared, and he suddenly seemed taller, superior, shoulders squared, back straight, like someone with unlimited authority and power.

Amazed, I watched a Chad I didn’t know disappear through the exit.

Just then, Amanda occupied Chad’s vacated seat. Glaring at me.

“What?” I snapped.

“You know I’m Chad’s biggest fan,” she said. “But what you did this evening? Not acceptable.”

“I’m no sub of yours, Manda,” I told her. “So I don’t give a rat’s arse what you think is acceptable or not.”

She slapped her palm down on the table between us and I fought back a flinch, pretending to be unfazed. The woman could be scary sometimes.

“This wasn’t put together by ‘us’. Me, Lion, none of us got nothing to do with it. All we were told was where and when.
He
rented out this whole place.
He
paid for everything. He did all of it for
you
. And then you spend the entire evening flirting with Chad?”

“JK’s a
friend
. That’s what he says he wants. So I don’t think it should matter who I spend my time with.”

Lips compressed, she leaned back in the arm chair, glancing around the room. “He left, you know?”

“Why?”

“Don’t know.” Her hard onyx eyes returned to drill me. “Why do
you
think?”

“You don’t intimidate me, you know,” I bluffed.

“You’re my best friend, Kia. My job is not to ‘intimidate’ you, but to wake you the fuck up.”

“He invited the giggly sluts,” I pouted stubbornly. “I was upset. He didn’t care.”

Amanda stared at me like I was loopy. “They’re your
friends.
”

“He shagged them both.”

“You just said he’s only a ‘friend’, didn’t you?”

“I
love
him!” I yelled, hands fisting. “You know that!”

“Keep your damn voice down, will you?” Amanda glanced around room, making sure no one was eavesdropping. “Look, you need to quit dicking around. It’s either JK or Chad. Choose
one
. Trust me, you don’t want to be the whore who wedged two friends apart. Or you’ll be the one hated in the end.”

Pushing up from the chair, she jerked at the bottom of her blouse to straighten it like the head bitch in charge and told me, “Now, get off your arse. Everyone’s waiting on you to pick a team so we can start bowling.”

As people tended to do at the sound of Amanda’s voice, I moved at her command, following her to the shoe shelves.

My cellphone vibrated against my thigh in my shorts pocket and I eased it out. Text message from Jahleel:

Remember your promise.

Chapter Seventeen

A
terse low ding sounded when I pressed his doorbell.

Bathed in a warm glow created by simple brass sconces above either side of the door, I released the ringer and stuffed my hands into my back pockets. I glanced down at the red and black weatherized mat beneath my sandal covered feet that displayed, ‘Goodbye’ instead of welcome.

Typical Jahleel.

I knew Thomas was somewhere nearby keeping watch on me without making me aware. But I was aware.

Forty-eight hours had passed since the stress-relieving get together Jahleel threw for me. Aside from his single text reminding me of my promise—never to kiss anyone again, like I’d done with Chad—I hadn’t heard a word from him.

Not like I expected to. This was his style. Especially after Chad and I isolated ourselves from everyone at the get together that
he
, Jahleel, threw? Even worse so.

I returned from L.A just this afternoon, did some vocal training, went home and slept like an Olympian. Later I woke up around 8:30pm with Amanda and Ferbie gone, loneliness in my bed, and one person on my mind.

I knew if I rang or text him he wouldn’t answer. Or would he?

Jahleel Kingston was unpredictable like that, yeah. So I snatched up my Mercedes car keys and left on my own to circle Jahleel’s home. Three times, but his bike wasn’t in the driveway.

Determined to wait him out, I drove around the city, listening to P!nk, with no Davidoff to smoke. When I circled a fourth time at 10:34pm, his bike was on the lawn and lights glowed from the windows on his floor. The top floor was dark and Krissy’s Audi was gone, so I swung right into her spot and strolled jauntily to the house.

I had no idea if he had a girl with him, and I didn’t care. All I knew was I wanted to see him.

Mannerless sod that he was, he kept me waiting for a few long minutes after the doorbell sounded, before he finally opened the door, wearing white, low-swung, drawstring sweatpants and nothing else. His skin damp, hair wet and slicked back from his face as if he’d ran out of the shower to answer the door.

He didn’t look surprised to see me. Just blank. Wet. And heartbreakingly beautiful.

He said nothing. I said nothing. He didn’t invite me in. I wanted in.