A kid with Sienna Greer out of that night?
I adjust my pillow to get more comfortable and feel something underneath it. Something foreign. I pull out a scrap of fabric. I turn the bedside lamp on and look at Jada’s purple thong feeling like I’ve been slapped.
Memories sweep over me of that night with her on the phone and what I told her to do. All the shit happening, I’d forgotten I’d told her to leave this here.
All that ugliness from the day of Aiden’s wedding – other than being happy for my brother… the scene with Meryl’s boyfriend and then onwards, except for the brief reprieve – the day here that Jada and I fooled around. And the moments since then when she makes me feel alive because she dishes the attitude straight back at me. Sparring with her has helped. And knowing that she’s not like that with anyone else, that shit in her life made her react differently than the way she’d normally react – that was something, too.
We were able to relate to one another. We were able to unleash our frustrations on one another because we’re both living with unusual circumstances.
Then seeing her tonight on the security guard’s desk smiling at him, goofing off, and knowing it was because I sent her out of the way so she wouldn’t overhear my bullshit with my mother…
Not only do I feel that freshly-slapped feeling, I realize I’ve got only one thing on my mind right now.
Her.
I hated that her smile was pointed at that security guard and then melted off her face when her eyes bounced to me. And the fact that I sent her there to laugh and joke and hang out with him.
How refreshing, though.
Jealousy. Lust. That’s all I’m feeling right now, and I welcome these emotions because they’re markedly different than what I’ve been feeling for almost three weeks.
I get out of bed like a man on a mission and head across the hall to her bedroom. The door is open; she’s not in it, but I see a sliver of light coming from the bottom of the bathroom door.
She comes into the hallway, wearing a short robe, not done up, so I’ve got an eyeful of her in a tight tank top and her underwear.
She freezes when she sees me. Her eyes go round and wide.
I’m in just a pair of boxers.
She looks uncomfortable, likely with her appearance, but she’s looking me over, too as she pulls her robe closed.
“Excuse me,” she says and steps forward to head to her room. I sidestep and block her.
She sidesteps in the other direction to try to go around me, likely thinking it was a mistake, me getting in her way accidentally. It was no accident.
Her hair is loose. I can smell her face cleanser and cinnamon – I’ve seen cinnamon toothpaste in her bathroom.
She looks sexy, she smells clean and fresh.
I move with her to stop her additional attempt to get around me and block her way with my hand against the wall. I’ve got her caged and I’ve got that purple thong dangling from those fingers, so when she backs up and her back touches the wall, her eyes shoot to the scrap of fabric dangling there just above her head.
She winces. And that doesn’t feel good. That feels, to me, like remorse, like she regrets leaving those underwear there, regrets being anyway vulnerable with me.
One of my hands drops so that she doesn’t feel trapped.
She can move that way, get away from me, but she remains frozen.
“And what do you think you’re doing, Miss. Sweetheart?” I ask, glaring into her eyes.
The wince changes to wounded.
I don’t like how her expression feels in my gut.
I lean in and put my lips to her ear. “I can’t explain to you how shit my life is right now, how much fucking crap I’m dealing with and I’m sorry it’s made me be an asshole the last few days. I need a release, Jada. An outlet for this stress.” I feel her body stiffen but she hasn’t made another move to get away from me, so I continue. “So much fuckin’ stress, baby. It’s not your job to help me with that, but take pity on an asshole.”
She bites her lip and she’s not moving away so I continue.
“Do you wanna fight with me or do you want that other outlet we discovered? Because I know which one I want but I’ll settle for the other if I absolutely have to.”
I’m hoping she picks the outlet I want. I need it. It feels like it’s the only thing that’ll feel right to me right now. And if she starts dishing out her shit, I’ll probably just stand here and take it. Because it feels like I have no fight in me right now.