Page 79 of The Friend Zone

Jagger comes into the kitchen, having no business looking so hot in a pair of jeans that cling to his thick hockey thighs and a long sleeve t-shirt that doesn’t hide the ripped muscles of his arms and torso.

My eyes dance around Jagger’s handsome face but I avoid those warm, golden eyes. Looking at him hurts too much as it is and I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how hurt I still am about how he ended our deal.

“I just ordered a pizza,” I tell Ryker, making a show of ignoring his teammate. “I was supposed to be home alone, but we could go eat it in my room. There’s more than enough if you want to join me.”

I hope the implication that Jagger isn’t invited to eat with us is more than clear.

“Pizza sounds awesome,” Ryker says, setting the box on the kitchen island and lacing his fingers with mine. “I was hoping we could talk though.”

“Oh,” I say, my senses suddenly on high alert. “Sure. Let’s go upstairs where we can have some privacy.” This time I look right at Jagger.

If Ryker changed his mind about our relationship, I don’t want to have an audience; especially not someone who just ended things with me.

“Actually…” Ryker and Jagger exchange a look, in some sort of silent communication that makes the lump in my throat triple in size.

“Did you two come here together?” I ask, struggling to keep my tone casual. “If you guys had plans to hang out, I don’t want to invite myself into them.”

Another one of those silent looks. Something is definitely going on.

Ryker nods in Jagger’s direction as if giving him some kind of prompt.

“Bay,” Jagger lowers his gaze, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was hoping you and I could talk? Ryker came with me for moral support, to help me break the ice.”

“Did he?” I glare at my boyfriend with what I hope is a withering look.

Ryker busies himself opening the box with the pastries, navigating the Gamma house kitchen like a pro when he finds the paper plates on the first try. “Why don’t we have something to eat and talk?”

I cross my arms over my chest. “I just ordered pizza. I don’t want dessert to spoil my appetite.”

I make the huge mistake of looking at Jagger. It isn’t just unfair how sexy his slightly mussed blond hair looks. The way he’s looking at me makes me feel like the meanest woman on this campus for being mad at him. After how he treated me.

“It’s ok, Bay,” his low voice is gentle, a little gravelly. “We don’t have to eat. And I’m sorry for ambushing you like this, but I really need you to hear me out.”

I can’t suppress an incredulous snort. “Now you want to talk? I thought you were too busy with hockey and classes. Are you sure you don’t prefer to send me a text?”

He hangs his head and I don’t miss the hurt look in his eyes.

I know I’m being cold, but what does he expect after that text and after taking Candace and Bianca to the locker room literally five minutes after he dumped me?

“It’s fair,” Jagger says, looking at me with the same intensity he had after our first kiss, before we got to know each other better. “I deserve for you to be mad at me. I acted like a complete asshole.”

“On that we agree.” I nod.

Jagger takes a step toward me and I don’t even realize that I take one step back, until my hips meet the kitchen island. “Look Bay, there’s no excuse for how I behaved. You have every reason to be mad at me. I wish I could go back and react differently, but since that isn’t possible, I just hope you’ll let me explain.”

I’ve always believed that actions speak louder than words. “What could you possibly say to change the way you acted in the past couple of weeks? I know we weren’t dating or anything but if you got bored with me, you could have at least talked to me. Before I saw you with someone else.”

He nods. “You’re right, Bay. I acted like a stupid fuck. And for what it’s worth, I didn’t get bored with you. You couldn’t be farther from the truth. And we might not have labeled whatthere was between us, but to me you were never just a hookup. Not for one second. I cared—Icareabout you.”

He has the audacity to take my hand into his much larger one. I rear back, pulling out of his grasp.

Slap.

The crack of my hand against his face is deafening, but it has nothing on the way my heart is slamming against my rib cage. “I don’t know why you’re here, Jagger. Nothing said how much you cared about me than hooking up with the same girl I found in my bed, screwing my ex-boyfriend, right after you ended things with me by text.”

He doesn’t retreat, keeping those golden eyes on me.

I hit him hard, one side of his face is an angry red.

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