42
Ruby
I wakethe next morning with a dry mouth and headache, the extra champagne I drank when I returned to the suite last night wasn’t the best move. Stumbling out of bed, I head to the kitchen area, passing Jem on the sofa, who’s sleeping under a white hotel blanket. Tears threaten again, but I cried enough of those last night, my aching chest now a reminder of how much.
How could he? Jem promised we were exclusive, I didn’t think things had changed. If anything, I thought we were stronger.
This is the real Jem Jones, and he’s a still a fucked up mess if this is how he’ll continue to behave.
“You calmed down yet?” he asks as I reappear with a glass.
He’s naked apart from his black briefs, tight abs tensing as he bends down to pick up his jeans. He pulls them on and pushes his hair from his face. My shocked silence hides my level of pissed off.
“Calmed down?” I say with a short laugh.
“Yeah. What the hell was that about last night? Do you really think I’d hook up with another chick when you’re nearby?”
I grip the glass. “When I’m nearby? Oh, so when I’m not nearby, you do?”
“Don’t twist my words, Ruby! Seriously, you think I screwed her?”
“Yes.”
Jem’s brow tugs down and so does his mouth. “Is that what you think of me? Three months and I’ve not touched anyone else. I don’t want to.”
“Right. Borrowed her perfume, did you?”
Jem opens his mouth to respond then changes his mind, blowing air into his cheeks instead. I expect anger but he looks tired—like he can’t be bothered.
“You know what? I’m not having this discussion with you. If you’re going to behave like a jealous teen the first time someone hits on me, then this won’t work.”
I step back. “What?”
“I’m Jem Jones, it happens. If you can’t deal with other chicks wanting me, then that’s your problem.”
If I had anything in my mouth, I’d choke at his arrogance. Ensconced in our everyday life, away from his public persona, I’d shaped him in my mind as my Jem. Does he exist?
“What’s going on with you?” I ask. “You’ve been odd for the last week. Have you had enough of this? Us?”
“I’m stressed and you’re not helping. This isn’t helping.”
“Stressed about what?”
“Nothing. I’ll deal with it.”
I frown. “Why not talk to me about what’s wrong?”
“I don’t want to.” He grabs his T-shirt. “Just because we’re in a relationship doesn’t mean I have to tell you everything.”
His words are a blow to the chest. Why is the Jem who hides back with us again?
“So you didn’t screw Kristie?” I ask quietly.
“No! So stop behaving like a high school kid and trust me.”
“If you can’t confide in me, we’re not as close as I thought,” I retort.
“You’re as close as I want you.” He stands. “I’m ordering breakfast. Do you want anything?”