Page 15 of Rush of Jealousy

I nervously pull out a stick of gum from my purse and fold it like an accordion in my mouth. I chomp onto it manically, making my taste buds pop with the release of flavors. I then add two more sticks. My jaw cracks as I try to chew it all into one big ball.

I focus my attention back on Adam. He seems kind and polite—two things I should be attracted to. However, I don’t feel anything other than a friend vibe from him.

Claire claps her hands together once and gains everyone’s attention. “Well, this is working out better than I expected.”

I narrow my eyes at her bizarre proud declaration. Adam and I basically said two sentences to each other, and she is about to do a backflip or something else equally as annoying. Claire was a cheerleader in high school, so nothing will surprise me when it comes to her.

“First and best blind date I’ve ever been on,” Adam chimes in.

I want to smash something. We haven’t done more than say hi, and quite frankly, I don’t even think I actually said hi. I chomp on my gum and mumble out some excuse that I have to use the restroom, despite my body instantly going dry. Claire follows me and joins me on the sofa that is situated outside of the women’s restroom door.

I spit my gum into a nearby trash can and prop one knee up onto the cushions so I can see her better. “You really think this is appropriate?” I am angry. “I went from being in a relationship with Graham for one solid freaking day”—I bite my bottom lip that seems to want to quiver—“to now being on a blind double date that I never agreed to.”

“When you hurt, I hurt. When you cry, I cry. And I am trying my best, Angie, I swear. I’m trying my very best to get you to forget him. To think about anything else besides him. He is taking up way too much real estate in your brain, and I hate him for it. I fucking hate him right now. I also hate myself and am overcome with guilt for even getting you involved in a job that could now have the potential to ruin you.”

“This is not your fault, Claire.”

“Yeah, it is.”

I shake my head adamantly. “No. I have free will. You would never have gotten me involved if you thought it would end like this.”

“You think you are holding it together, but I know you. You are strong to a fault. But any day now, you will break. You are going to fall apart. And I’m then going to go do something I may regret to that stupid man. I’ll probably get arrested, or at the very least a restraining order. So right now, I’m doing everything in my power to delay that inevitable breakdown you are bound to have—at any moment of any day. I am just trying to do everything I can to keep you from crumbling.”

Claire’s words flood like cascading water from a waterfall, and I instantly lose the anger I had brewing inside of me. She means well. She is just trying to help. For that, I love her a bit more than I did a day ago and cut her some slack.

“Can I at least see this profile you made for me? Make sure it’s accurate at least.”

“Maybe later. Let’s go pee.”

“Claire Nettles, you show me this profile right now.”

“So, I have some explanations for it.”

My eyebrows rise at her sheepish look. “Oh, I’m sure you do.”

I snatch her phone out of her hand and hold it hostage until she pulls up the dating site and loads my profile.

My eyes scan over the page, scrolling to view all that she uploaded. “You have got to be kidding me,” I growl. “Seriously, Claire? Why did you think this was appropriate?”

“What? You look hot!”

“I look like a hooker.”

In the photo, I am wearing a bikini, sipping a piña colada, and laughing at something Claire must have said. My hair is blowing in the wind on our back deck, and I can almost remember the details of the day. We were celebrating the start of summer.

“Sex sells.”

“For marketing ads, sure. But for relationships that I do not want to be involved in right now, no! Might as well have signed me up for Hooked Up.”

“Who knows, maybe I did that too.”

“You didn’t…”

“Let’s pee! Peeing sounds super fun right now, yeah?”

“Do you have some sort of bladder infection? Quit trying to get me to pee. This was never about peeing. Did you sign me up for a booty-call site?”

She looks down at her twiddling fingers that cannot seem to stop moving. “Well…”

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