Page 42 of Rush of Jealousy

“I dunno…”

“You will love it. You loved the other ones I have taken you to, so why would this one be any different? There is actually a class this afternoon.”

I bite my bottom lip and pray that she takes the lead.

“Let’s just go together,” she suggests. “You’ll see how much fun it is.”

Yes! “If you insist.”

“I insist. And let’s go now so we can day drink and still be sober enough to dance.”

“Umm, do you think that’s a good idea?”

“Best one I’ve had all day. Nothing puts a better sway in my hips than a delicious margie.”

“Let me go change.”

I run upstairs and dig out something suitable for the bar and pack a bag for the gym. From a selfish standpoint, I’m glad we can spend this time together. I miss it just being the two of us.

Once I get downstairs, I slip on my sneakers and double check my gym bag. I reach into the bottom, making my way out the door with Claire, trying to verify that I did bring my cell phone. A message from Graham appears on the screen, making me blush and laugh at the same time.

Graham: I miss you like your tongue misses my lollipop.

Even though we aren’t together, his words still affect me. He is the first man who has ever made me feel alive. Even when I’m mad at him, he still has the power to connect with my emotions—even if just via text. But his disregard for my own wishes makes it easier to walk away from him. To take a step back and figure out what I really want. And what I can’t live without.

As Claire locks the door, I make my way down the steps. In my peripheral vision, I catch a dark figure in the afternoon light, making me jump and squeal. My bag falls to the sidewalk, and I hold my hand up to my heart. The suited man stares back at me, groaning at my reaction.

“Sorry, ma’am,” he responds apologetically.

Claire turns on the doorstep and sees what the commotion is about and narrows her eyes at the polished man.

“Who are you?” she asks blankly.

“I’m Parker, ma’am. Mr. Hoffman instructed me to drive you ladies wherever you may need to go while he is across the country for business.”

“Oh, please,” she huffs. “We have cars, you know. Oh, and we’re not twelve. We also do not answer to that man’s orders. ‘Kay, buh-bye.” She flutters her fingers at him, as if he is a petulant child.

“This has to do with the Halloween party incident,” I whisper, trying to tamp down my own anger. Of course one guard would not appease Graham; he would need to hire a whole security team to deal with me. Ugh. The man is lacking boundaries. It’s as if he has never been toldnoin his life.

Despite the shock, I grab my bag off the ground and make my way toward Parker, who is taller than Collins but thinner. He eyes me carefully, ready to pounce if any bad guys jump out of the shrubs. I contemplate tripping on purpose just to test his reaction time. Instead, I sashay to Claire’s car and slip inside the passenger side when she unlocks it from the key fob. I slam the door shut and reach over to adjust my belongings and strap in. Her amused expression lets me know that she is on board with my spike of independence. I slide down my window with Parker’s persistent tapping.

I muster up my sweetest voice. “How can I help you?” I undo my ponytail only to twist the band around my gathered hair again.

“Mr. Hoffman gave me strict orders to drive you personally. And to not let Miss Nettles do it.”

“He didnotjust say that,” Claire says, staring straight ahead. “But he did, didn’t he?” She stews from the driver’s seat and then turns suddenly toward Parker. Her eyes narrow into slivers, making her look mean and angry. Parker looks like he is going to piss his pants. “Listen here, dude, you better not insult my driving skills. And right now, I hate men, buddy. All. Men. So scurry off and go tell your Mr. Hoffman to leave us the hell alone. Buh-byes.”

I stifle a giggle at Claire’s usage ofdude. Classic. “Where is Trevor?” I’m not sure it matters; both he and Parker are equally annoying. But I can’t help but wonder if he is lurking around somewhere.

“He was reassigned.”

I nod. “Oh, so that’s code for fired?”

I watch as Parker shifts his weight from foot to foot. Part of me wants to ruffle his perfectly ironed clothes or spill something on the pure white dress shirt that he wears underneath the suit. He’s too put together for Claire’s and my mood today. He definitely does not blend in with the students who live in our row of townhouses.

“We’ll be safe,” Claire promises, not easing the tension tic of Parker’s jaw. “So Mr. Hoffman doesn’t fire or demote you to cleaning his toilets, how about you follow behind us with your ride? And if you want, you can even come inside the gym we are headed to and break a sweat. After, of course, we get drunk.”

Claire is having way too much fun with this whole thing. I think she actually wants him to join us on our mission. She hits the button for my window and flutters her fingers to wave goodbye again. She starts the engine and backs up—almost over Parker’s foot. He jumps back just in time.

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