“Sorry.” He gave an apologetic smile. “I’ve gotta get back to work, the guy who’s paying us said we’d get bonuses if we finished early.”
“Who’s paying you?” I yelled as he walked away.
“Sorry!” He shrugged. “I’m not supposed to say. Have a great day!” He waved and disappeared into the house.
With nowhere to go, I dug my keys out of my purse and got into my car. I was too numb to be excited about the house.
At this point I didn’t care.
You know how when you’re little and nervous to talk in front of people — the advice is always to imagine everyone naked?
Well. I felt naked and exposed. How could he? How could he pretend to be my friend online for months? And then not tell me! I felt so stupid, all those times I was talking about Jaymeson, about missing him. My heart beat wildly. I had actually been talking to him.
And when I’d asked for advice.
Tears of embarrassment stung my eyes until I couldn’t hold them in anymore. The worst part? He knew every vulnerable thing about me. Everything. Jaymeson had cut me open and filleted me alive.
He’d pushed me into the arms of another guy only to be witness to that same guy basically cheating on me.
Nobody enjoys feeling unwanted, and maybe I was feeling extra sorry for myself, but how was it fair that Jaymeson acted the way he did?
He kept me close, he kissed me, he slept in the same bed — all without touching me. It was like he refused to let me go.
I needed him to let me go.
I needed to cut whatever string held us together.
With shaking hands I parked at the condo and pulled up my Facebook profile.
Delete.
Still trembling, I clicked through my photos from the wedding on my phone, and deleted every last one where Jaymeson was present.
My legs may as well have been lead as I walked up the stairs to the condo. Feeling like I was going to puke, I hurried and grabbed the key from under the pig and let myself in.
Fresh tears streamed down my cheeks as I slowly made my way into the kitchen, only to find Jaymeson sitting at the breakfast bar.
“Don’t go,” he whispered without turning around. His hands were wrapped around a mug.
“If I stay — then you need to go.”
“If you stay,” he repeated, lifting his head. I could see the muscles tense in his back. Did he have to be so perfect? Was he really that bored with his life? So bored that he needed to use me as entertainment?
“I’m not apologizing,” he finally said.
Seriously?
“I love your curves. I love your smile. Your hands. Even your feet. I love every piece of you — every piece fits perfectly together to make you who you are.”
“Jaymeson…”
“I wanted all of you without you having to sacrifice anything. I thought if I was your friend, I could still be a part of your life…somehow. A small part.”
“But that’s not what you did!” I shouted and threw my purse onto the floor. “You lied to me!”
“But—”
“No!” I grabbed him by the shoulders and turned his body around. “You made me fall for you! You made me believe that you were an entirely different person! You made me look forward to your messages, to our talks—”
“I looked forward to them too!” He stood and gripped my shoulders. “That’s what I’m saying! I didn’t want to give it up!”
“But you had me!” I shrugged out of his grip. “You had me and didn’t want me! Were you bored? Was that it? You thought it would be fun to play with my emotions? Hmm, let me see how Pris reacts when I reject her and push her into the arms of another…and then pull the little string tighter so she’s consumed by me.”
He perked up. “Consumed?”
“I. Hate. You.” I spat the words, perversely enjoying the way he flinched at each one. “I offered friendship — and that still wasn’t enough. You still weren’t satisfied!”
“I won’t be satisfied, dammit!” He grabbed me by the waist and picked me up into his arms. “I won’t be satisfied until you’re mine! Not Smith’s! Not Jamie Hudson’s. But mine!”
His mouth slammed against my lips.
I arched back, planning to slap him, but he dropped me to my feet and pushed me up against the kitchen wall.
With a growl I pushed against his chest, then bit his lip. He retaliated by gripping my wrists and pinning them behind my back so we were chest to chest.
“Let me go,” I whimpered against his mouth.
“That’s been the problem all along.” His breathing was ragged. “I can’t.”
“Please.” Tears streamed down my face. “I can’t either. I can’t do this. I need lines, Jaymeson. You said I could have them. I can’t kiss you today and be your friend tomorrow.”
“I could never be your friend.” Jaymeson’s eyes drilled into mine. “Friendship doesn’t feel like this. Friendship doesn’t feel like I want to kill any guy who looks at you longer than two seconds. Friendship doesn’t feel like my body’s burning from the inside out. I want you.”
“For a night?” His grip released on my hands, freeing me to push against his chest.
“No.” He pushed me back, pinning my arms above my head against the wall. “For as many nights as you’re willing to give me — for as many sunrises and sunsets as I can count, not just for breakfast, but lunch and dinner. I want your future. I want the dates you haven’t yet planned, the moments you’ve yet to experience. I want them all.”
My chin trembled as he gripped it firmly between his fingers. “Don’t you get it?” His voice wavered. “It’s you. It’s always been you. The whole time. For the past three months. You and only you.”
“But—”
He kissed forcefully, cutting off my words with his mouth, making me forget to use sentences and nouns and verbs. “What can I do to convince you that I’m serious? That you’re my downfall—my everything?”
“I don’t know,” I whispered.
He released my hands and let them fall to my side then dipped his fingers into my hair, closing his eyes and leaning his forehead against mine.
Jaymeson stepped back, releasing my body. I felt his absence — like my body had lost all its heat at once. Like I’d been stabbed with an icicle. With a shiver, I crossed my arms.
I’d never seen a man look at a woman the way he was looking at me — From the pitiful look on his face, to his completely deflated posture — vulnerability was written all over him.