Page 15 of Brazen Criminals

“I’ll call tonight,” he says, still not getting it.

“And I won’t answer,” I say, collecting my stuff from the floor. Jansen added a few more bags to his arms, making my pile manageable. He’s holding the elevator, green eyes searching me as I collect the last few things.

“Clara, don’t be like that. You know how you get. We’ll talk tonight,” Bryce tries.

I smile at him, even though I’d rather yell or cry. I want to show him just how reasonable I can be. “Bryce, I’m leaving. For good, if you’re confused. And just so it’s clear, I didn’t do this. You did.”

I step back into the elevator, and Jansen lets go of the door. The shaking begins as the elevator plunges down, my stomach flopping up to meet my heart in my throat. I make it out of the building and almost to Jansen’s car before the first sob explodes from me.

And here I was, promising a house full of guys that I wouldn’t come with drama. Shit.

Chapter 8

Clara

Jansenquicklyemptieshisarms into the back end of his car, then comes back to grab some of my load. “No, I’m okay, I’ve got it,” I say, holding onto a token bag or two. I toss them into the backseat, the tears making it hard to see or care about how they land. Somehow, I manage to slide into the front and Jansen closes the door behind me.

I try to catch my breath. I can’t cry like this in front of some guy I just met. God, the poor guy had to watch the implosion of my relationship. I can’t believe I did that. Did I really just break up with Bryce? Perfect Bryce? Am I crazy?

Staring out the window as we drive, I’m careful not to look over at Jansen. I’m one hundred percent sure that I have snot mixing with my tears right now, and I’m sticky with sweat from hauling my stuff across campus. I want to call Emma. I want her to tell me I’ve lost my mind.

Sure, Bryce is intense. He likes things a particular way—lots of people do, and that’s totally okay. So why did I break up with him? Have I lost my fucking mind?

I try to take a breath, and I make a terrifying raspy weepy noise, which makes me cry harder. This is not the first impression I wanted to give my new roommates.

Jansen pulls up to a drive-thru, and I realize I haven’t been paying attention to where we’re going. I’m still whimpering when we pull up to the window, having missed the whole ordering part trying to control my sobs. I find a pile of napkins settled into my lap. “Here,” he says.

“Thanks.” I blow my nose a few times, wiping the tears off my cheeks. A cup hovers in front of me. “What is it?” I ask.

Jansen grabs his own cup and pulls back onto the road. “Hot cocoa. I know it’s almost a hundred today, but I don’t know where to find drive-thru pints of ice cream.” One side of his mouth twists up into a tiny smile. “That’s what my sister always wants after a breakup—a pint of Swiss chocolate almond ice cream and Flamin’ Hot Cheetos. I don’t get it.” He makes a face, and I surprise myself by laughing.

He takes a sip of the cocoa. I take one too, the warm chocolate calming me more than I thought it would.

“What about you? What’s your breakup ritual?” he asks.

I shrug. “I don’t know. This is my first real breakup.”

“Then I guess hot cocoa is as good as anything.”

We sit quietly as we wind through the streets around campus. I’m grateful he’s not asking about Bryce, that he’s not making me talk. I sip my cocoa and try to turn off my mind. I don’t want to be a mess when we get back. I can imagine the sneer on Trips’ face if I come in weeping. I just broke up with Bryce for being a demanding jerk. I don’t need a stranger giving me the same shit.

Jansen clears his throat. “We didn’t grab any of the furniture. Are we going to head back? I can just go or take one of the guys or something. You can stay home if you don’t want to deal with that idiot.”

I giggle at Bryce being called “that idiot.” I guess there’s a first time for everything. “No, I don’t have any furniture. All of that was Bryce’s. He only wanted expensive new stuff, so he got it himself.” I take a few more sips of cocoa before I realize the car is turning onto the freeway. “Where are we going?” Panic grabs me, remembering that I met this guy less than three hours ago.

“I was thinking IKEA, so you’ll at least have a mattress for tonight. You can thrift the rest if you want, but I heard once that it’s illegal to thrift mattresses, so IKEA seems like a safe bet.”

“You’re taking me mattress shopping?” I look at this stranger. He noticed I needed a mattress, that I have no furniture. He listened when I said that I couldn’t afford expensive things and assumed that I would prefer to thrift. And he keeps his car clean. Who is this guy?

“Unless you have a mattress hidden in one of those paper bags?” He grins and winks before looking back at the road.

I find a smile and look back out the window. “No secret mattresses. IKEA it is.”

Chapter 9

Jansen

Thetwistsinmygut are almost unbearable as Clara and I walk into IKEA. I’ve only ever been here with my mom or my sister, and this feels different—intimate. I tuck my hands into my pockets so I’m not tempted to take anything, pushing the jitters down further.Don’t be an idiot, Jansen. You can last until you’re back tonight. Tonight, you can make bad choices. Right now, good choices. Only good choices.

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