She’s attractive. Long legs, great rack, shiny hair. Pouty mouth. Last night I’d planned to bang a random girl, so… Why the hell not?
Very good question. In fact, there’s no good reason why not.
Then why am I not saying anything?
The silence stretches. I turn this over in my mind as I focus on her skin, outlining the tattoo, then choosing the colors to fill it in with.
“Look,” she says eventually as I work. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. You probably have a girlfriend.”
“It’s okay,” I mutter, not looking up.
Because there is no girlfriend. There is no reason.
Only I can’t get Kayla out of my goddamn mind, and I don’t understand how the hell the idea of fucking another woman makes me feel like I’m cheating.
Joy.
***
Jesse doesn’t come in to work until late. I hear him talking to Tyler, so I wait for them to finish, and then I barge into his cubicle to confront him.
I’m not even sure why I feel the need to do this, why I’m so mad at him for it.
He looks up from where he’s sitting on his stool, a preoccupied frown on his face. “Hey, Shun, what’s up?”
I wince at the use of the nickname. Jesse probably doesn’t remember how much I hate it or why.
Shun, my brother’s voice says in my memory. It’s all your fault. Screw you, Shun. Screw—
A hand claps on my shoulder, and I jerk back. “Ocean. Hey.”
Fuck, I keep spacing out. There’s a concerned look in Jesse’s eyes I don’t want to see directed at me.
My breath rattling, I shake his hand off. “You.” I have to stop and swallow hard. “Don’t ever fucking do that again.”
“Do what? Put my hand on your shoulder?” His brows draw together and his eyes crinkle, as if he’s torn between amusement and annoyance. “What are you talking about?”
“No, dammit.” I jab a finger at his chest. “You came and had the balls to tell me that Kayla fucking asked for me. At the bar. Before you left. You—”
“Hey, hey!” He holds his hands up, eyes wide. “It was the truth.”
“No, it fucking wasn’t. She didn’t ask for me.” Bitterness wells in my chest. “It was a lie to get me to drive her home.”
“Like you didn’t want to? Suck my dick, Ocean-boy.” He gives me the finger, and I shake my head, my fists itching for a fight.
“Fuck you, J. You had no right to lie about that.”
“I didn’t fucking lie. I don’t lie.” His skin is too dark for a full flush, but there’s definitely color on his cheekbones. “Not my fault if she doesn’t remember, is it? I asked her, if one of us were to stay and drive you home, who would you rather have? And she said your name.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Just…”
“Just what?” I give him a wary look, not ready to let go of my anger. I prefer anger to the confusion that plagues me whenever I think about her.
“Well, maybe I didn’t ask her last night.”
My head’s pounding. I rub at my eyes. “What the fuck does that even mean?”
“Look, I did ask her.” He puffs a breath. “Another night, when we went out together, a couple of weeks ago.”
“Motherfucker.” But I can’t work up a good rant right now, can’t hold on to my anger, because the confusion is back, and with it a weird spark of warmth in my chest.