“All I want is to go home. Thank you for your help.” But as I duck through the fence to my freedom, it occurs to me that Troy McNamara has been my saving grace—not once but twice. He could have stood by and let me get hauled away like a common criminal, but he didn’t. That’s gotta count for something.
I pull my phone from my bag and hit accept on his friend request. A DM pops in immediately.
Troy:You look a lot like a girl I just saw at my country club. Except dry.
A smile tugs on my lips.
Me:LOL. Thanks again for helping me out back there. That would have been really embarrassing.
Troy:Don’t mind Craig. He likes to think he’s someone important.
My nose crinkles at the seemingly elitist reply, but I shrug it off, assuming he didn’t mean it the way it came out.
Troy:My offer to show you around still stands. Or we can just have dinner.
Butterflies dance in my stomach. I stare at the message, wondering how to reply. Dinner sounds wonderful, as does a night away from the house. A part of me wants to say yes, if onlyfor the chance to get away, but for some reason, Jace pops into my mind. I swipe left on that mental image, but the damage is done. He’s infected my brain like an ear worm.
Me:Thank you for the offer, but no.
Troy:You know how to find me if you change your mind.
Without replying, I tuck the phone into my bag and climb onto my bike. Regret settles in when my stomach rumbles. It's a long ride home. I should have used his pass to get a Caesar salad or a turkey club instead of letting my pride get in the way, but it’s too late now. Besides, soon enough, I’ll be able to take myself out to a meal. My mother didn’t need a guy to pay her way and nor do I. I can take care of myself.
Chapter seven
Another ruckus morning with Jace on the bag. My insides stir from both the memory of his body and the fact that I start my new job today. The latter makes sense. The former makes me hate myself in tiny increments.
The menacing sound comes to a sudden halt as I saunter into the kitchen to ask Cindy for a ride into town, but all I find is Jace cooling his sweaty torso in the fridge. He brings the carton of juice to his lips and tips his head back, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows.
Did I say tiny increments? I meant leaps and bounds.
“Other people have to drink that, too, you know,” I snap.
I tear myself away from the view but not before Jace gets his jab. “Fuckin’ Barbie.”
I turn on my ballet flat, setting my hand on my hip. “Did you say something?”
He looks over at me with a scowl, then slams the door shut and leans against the counter. “I have no reason to talk to you.”
“Yet you can’t seem to help yourself, can you?”
He narrows his gaze. “Where’re you goin’ all fancy anyway? Brunch with Ken?”
My dress feels like a suit of armor weighing me down. I want to look nice, but maybe it’s too much? Either way, I’m not about to let Jace know his comment chipped away at my confidence. “For your information, I start my new job today.”
“Standing atop your high horse castin’ judgment ain’t exactly work, princess.”
“Ew.” I cross my arms over my chest. “That’s a bold statement coming from a guy who’s done nothing but judge me since the moment I arrived.”
“It ain’t a judgment. Just callin’ ’em like I see ’em.”
I throw my hands up in a huff. “I don’t know why I even bother.” He’s so fucking arrogant that I can’t even stand being in the same room with him. I stomp past and search the porch for a sign of Cindy, but there isn’t one.
His presence hovers behind me. It slithers down my spine and tingles my tailbone, his low baritone in my ear making it hard to breathe. “She ain’t here.”
This is not happening.I tilt my face to the sky in silent prayer. “I need a ride to work.” The sound of my voice is hollow and meek. I turn to face him, the taste of crow bitter on my tongue. “I can’t ride my bike. I’ll be a sweaty mess by the time I get there.”
The wicked smile on his face is poison. Asking Jace Wilder for a favor? I may as well give him a pint of blood and promise him my firstborn. “I missed the part where that’s my problem.”