I don’t know that I’ve ever regretted spending time with someone. Of course, there are guys I would never consider spending an additional minute with—those that were extremely selfish in bed and maybe a couple of fuckboys from college—but regret was never part of the deal.
It swims in my stomach like acid right now because I know exactly what I want, and it’s the very thing I swore to him could never happen again.
“Fuck!” I snap, bringing heavy hands down on my steering wheel.
I press the ignition button, hell-bent on getting the hell out of there before anyone from class shows up. The last thing I need is my best friend catching me in a lie.
But then as if pulled from my head and placed on the sidewalk, I see Jude. A smile teases his stupid mouth, legs I know to be muscular encased in dark jeans. My eyes drift to the front of his shirt, wishing we were on the beach so I could see his shirtless form and ripped abdomen instead of the t-shirt he’s wearing.
With the way I was mentally berating myself a minute ago, I should feel bitterness and a little hatred for him, but my heart kicks up a few notches and that acid in my gut I was feeling turns into swooping wings of butterflies.
I’m spellbound.
Entranced.
Swoony… if that’s even a word.
It’s ridiculous, but not ridiculous enough to stay in my car and let him walk away.
“Hey,” I say cheerily when I approach him.
He bites his lip, an attempt to hide a smile at seeing me. He fails.
I keep my head high even though I have the urge to dip my chin like a smitten schoolgirl.
“It seems we’re both early since being late last class,” he offers with a chuckle.
I tilt my head in confusion. He arrived after me, so how in the world does he know I was late as well?
“So umm… only two classes left. Do you feel like an expert yet?”
“Do you?” I counter like an idiot, but not referring to shooting or gun safety.
“I’m very qualified.”
His smile turns salacious, and somehow, we’re on the very same page of the same sexy book.
“You’re okay for someone with such limited… experience.”
“My aim seems to have hit the mark.”
My body tingles with the memories. “Maybe you just got lucky.”
“Maybe I was born to shoot hard and straight, fulfill a destiny.”
“And I think you could use some practice.”
“Are you offering? Because you said after my first interview, that I wouldn’t be getting the job. Your organization wasn’t interested in the way I hit the target despite the achievements I reached.”
God, I love a man who can metaphor.
I give a slow smile even though he just opened up the very door I thought I’d have to exert more effort tugging open before being able to walk through it.
“No.”
His face falls, and I let him wallow in the rejection for a minute. It’s the only way I can see regaining the upper hand.
He nods, another smile forming on his lips, and instantly I feel like the tables have turned in the blink of an eye.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” Wait, what?
“But just in case.” I look down at the card he places in my hand, one that’s eerily similar to the one I pressed into his palm a week ago. The only information on the back of his business card is his address, and he’s gone by the time I look up, his truck backing out of the lot.
Shock fills me even as his taillights fade away down the street.
It isn’t until a woman from the class walks past with a quick nod of her head that I realize I need to get out of here. By the time I’m in my car, I’m pissed.
That feeling of being played hits me once again.
Shy my ass. He’s too smooth, too perfect in his responses, too flippant about spending time with me, too accepting of my refusal.
Men are made to adore me, as narcissistic as that sounds.
I’m halfway to his apartment before I realize that I wasn’t headed home, and since I’m already this far, there’s no sense in not giving that jerk a little piece of my mind.
Chapter 11
Jude
I barely have enough time to drop my keys on the console table near my front door before angry fists are pounding on it.
I don’t know how I know, but Parker is on the other side.
I managed a straight spine and kept the disappointment off my face while talking to her outside the gun range. I handled myself very well, but that doesn’t stop the nerves heating my blood or that blood thickening my cock when I tug open the door.
She glares at me, whipping her hair from over her shoulder to her back as if she’s preparing for a war and doesn’t want it to get in her way.