Page 75 of Splintered Hearts

You won’t know until you give him a shot, right?

Go for it. It’s not like we’re together.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

“Hey.” Nearly jumping out of my fucking skin, I see the asshole I live with behind me in my mirror. His eyes scan the length of me. “What are you doing?”

Exactly what you told me to, asshole.

No. No this isn’t about Jamie. This is about me. As hard as it is, Jamie’s right. We aren’t together and I have to get that through my head. What I want is a relationship, not another fuck buddy.

After dinner last night, Jamie went back to being distant. We’ve had so much fun this week and I hate that all that’s going to disappear. Reading with him was just so much fun. Jamie got super into the book I lent him, and it’s been cute to watch him reading. Watching his face twist with anger when it got frustrating and blush from the spicy scenes has been a treat.

As much as it hurts, I need to squash this crush I have.

Since Jamie didn’t go into a jealous rage, ripping off his shirt like the men in my regency novels and ripping off my blouse, exposing my breasts then making sweet, sweet love to me, I called Ben. We made plans for dinner tonight. Do I think Ben is the one?

Absolutely not.

Ben was excited, though, and that’s what it should be like. Ishouldn’t have to beg for scraps. I need to stop wasting time on someone who only wants orgasms. “I took your advice. I’m going on that date.”

Emotion flicks over Jamie’s stupid handsome face. His tired eyes meet mine and I feel guilty for no damn reason. Jamie didn’t sleep in bed with me last night, and with work today we really haven’t spoken much at all. I did hear him last night, though—talking, whimpering, crying. It’s not my place.

It’s time to move on. It was fun, but Jamie doesn’t want anything serious with me. “Sounds fun.”

Sounds fun.Asshole.“What do you want?”

“I was going to make dinner and see if you wanted any. You’re clearly all set, though.” Jamie folds his arms over his broad chest.

“What’s with the tone?”

“What tone?”

Maybe I’m just reading into shit. I’m a bit on edge as it is. I’ve never been on a real date. “Nothing. Never mind. He’s picking me up soon.” I’ve been sitting at this vanity for hours it seems like. Nothing’s fitting right. My makeup isn’t making up. I have an itch to call Bri, but I don’t want her to think that’s the only reason I called her. We’re going out next weekend anyway and fuck, I can’t wait. I need friend time. Mark is still kind of mad at me. I know he’ll get over himself, and when he gets like this, giving him space to cool down is always the way to go. I sent him a picture of my nipple really close up this morning, and he told me to fuck off, so progress.

“With Ben?”

“Yes.”

Jamie’s face twists like it tastes something bad. “What does Ben do?”

“That’s what the date is for.”

Leaning against my doorway, wearing a forest-green hoodiewith the sleeves rolled up and a pair of black boxers that mold to his thighs, his dragon peeks out and it’s all I can do to pull my eyes from it. Jamie changed the gauges in his ears sometime today, opting for a black one with a planchette in the middle.

This would be a lot easier if he were ugly... or Mark.

Shrugging off the door, Jamie just shakes his head. He shaved the sides yesterday because it was growing out a little too long. I like the undercut. It suits his features. “What?”

“Nothing.” Jamie looks me over one last time. “You just look really good is all. I hope you have fun.”

Jamie leaves and my eyes drop to the cream-colored pants I’m wearing that flare a bit at the leg. I’ve paired them with a form-fitting black tank crop top. It’s cool today, but not cold, so I have a gray knit sweater I’ll bring with me just in case. Turning to the side, I give myself a once-over before leaning in and fixing the curls on my head. Bri wanted to give me a hair cut, and maybe I’ll take her up on it next weekend before we go out.

Checking my makeup, I grab the small clutch I’m bringing, taking out the lip tint and giving myself one more dab. Putting it back in the bag, I grab chewing gum, mouth wash, a tiny toothbrush, some cash, and lotion. Turning, I see my nightstand.

I chew my bottom lip for a moment then decide against it. No condoms. No chance. The next time I hook up with someone it’s going to be my boyfriend. Slipping on a pair of black shoes, I take a deep, deep breath.

I can do this.

---