“Baby, if we’re going to get down to it, I’m a man with needs,” Jackson started, giving me no choice but to listen to the speech I refused to hear last night because it didn’t actually matter. I wasn’t hurt – I didn’t care enough about my fiancé to be hurt. I was just in awe of the train wreck that was my life. I stared at my feet as Jackson sat across from me on the coffee table. “You know me, Lara. I need sex. More specifically, sex with you. And, babe… I swear to fucking Christ, Gabby was the first person I ever cheated on you with and it was for stupid reasons I can barely remember now. And Audra? She’s just someone who’s there. Someone I already know, who doesn’t work for me and isn’t one of the guy’s wives or girlfriends. She’s a placeholder, babe. Like a notch above my own hand. It’s just my body requires release, Lara, or I’m not healthy. I lose my fucking mind. All men do. But when I’m with you, it’s a thousand levels beyond just release. It’s love and chemistry and real fucking passion. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
I turned my head to look at Jackson and his wet blue eyes gleaming at me from under his brows, which sloped in distress. I wanted to laugh in his face again. Bless your heart. You really think I care. I can’t even remember the last time I liked you. I opened my mouth to say something along those lines but stopped myself, wondering if I should still stick the plan and play nice with him. But there was no plan without Jake, so maybe I didn’t have to waste what little energy I had pretending to be fine and happy.
I’ve got nothing left and I don’t love you, Jackson. So cheat away, you prick.
I was going to say the words. But when my lips parted, my tongue snatched them back and shoved them down my throat. It refused to make even a sound, leaving me silent as I blinked vacantly at Jackson who just stared, furiously expectant. But I said nothing – which was still better than what I had planned. Huh. I was certain I didn’t care about myself anymore but apparently, some shred of sanity had survived in my brain and was fighting on to protect me.
But that meant little to Jackson.
“Say something,” he said between his teeth. One more second of silence and he was bursting off the table, grabbing fistfuls of his hair. “Lara, don’t put me through this again!”
Drama queen, I looked up at him, catatonic. Keep making it about yourself.
I must’ve smiled because he took one look at me and went insane.
“I’m trying here and you’re fucking laughing, Lara? Fucking Christ, I swear to God you’re going to be the reason I wind up losing my fucking mind!”
You mean that hasn’t happened yet? With vague amusement in my dead eyes, I watched as Jackson went to the kitchen, pouring himself a drink and then promptly forgetting all about it as he stormed out the door.
Chapter Sixteen
Lara
Seven hours later, I woke up from a heavy nap – still on that couch, still wearing my dress from the night before. Though now it was completely stiff with dried vodka and gin and whatever else Sloane had accidentally spilled on me last night.
I stared at the wall as I remembered the way she had looked at me in the booth. I couldn’t tell if she’d thought I was crazy or if she’d begun piecing things together about Jackson. Either way, I knew I should probably get up and charge my phone since she was probably freaking out somewhere. But then again, if she’d yet to come personally to my apartment, then it was probably fine.
Another few hours on the couch, joined by some Bravo and TLC, I was finally ready to get up and shower. My hair was in knots, my lashes so caked with old mascara that it hurt me to blink.
In the shower, despite telling myself not to, I wondered where Jake was. I wondered if he’d left a message on my phone and imagined word for word what it might be. Lara, I’m sorry. You said yourself that I wouldn’t be here for long so you knew this day would come. I’m on the plane now. I won’t say where to but I will wish you the best of luck. I care deeply about you and always will, but this is for the best. For both of us.
God, it wasn’t even real but it hurt so bad I had to clutch my chest till the pain subsided. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t imagine a positive message. I couldn’t imagine him saying, Lara, I’ve been so worried about you and I’m sorry about last night. We were just drunk. Please call me back when you get a chance. Somehow, a message that simple seemed impossible to me.
So I spent probably an hour standing under the hot water. By the time I got out, the room was filled with steam. When I opened the door, it floated like tendrils out into the hallway, creating a haze as I looked down over the railing and into the kitchen.
Where Dane McNulty stood staring up at me.
“What the fuck!” I hissed, stumbling back against the wall and clutching my towel to my chest. Suddenly, my heart was no longer a dead rock in my chest. It was awake again, beating wildly as I stumbled my way into the bedroom and slammed the door shut. “What the fuck, what the fuck?” I murmured to myself as I pressed my back against the wall. When a knock came at the door, I yelped, bursting off of it and turning around just in time to see it fling open.
“I need to shower,” Jackson muttered, stumbling in.
“What the fuck happened to you?” I stared at his stretched collar and the cut over his eye. He smelled like sweat, blood and booze.
“What, you can talk now?” he sneered. “Bunch of pricks tried to get in my face at the bar. And before you tell me it was probably my fault, I said you were going to make me lose my fucking mind.”
I rolled my eyes. You have got to be kidding with this cry for help. “Jackson –why the hell is Dane here?” I moved toward the most pressing issue.
Jackson grumbled as he went into the bathroom. “I had him get me from the precinct
.”
My eyes went wide. The idea of Jackson in police custody gave me a second of life before I realized that Dane had probably bailed him out before any paperwork was even processed. As if he had never even been there.
“Well, happy birthday to me.”
I jumped when I saw Dane suddenly leaning in the doorway, raking his dirty gaze over the parts of my body that weren’t covered in a towel.
“Get the hell out of my house, Dane.”