Page 24 of Volatile

“Jon, please. I just want to talk.” Jon. She liked Jonathan so much better. And what was the deal with that anyway, the unreasonableness about his full name? It was his name. She wasn’t asking to call him George.

His intense gaze drilled into her, and she felt a charge. Like thousands of electrified butterflies swarming inside her. She liked it so much, it frickin’ disturbed her.

“I....” She was losing her resolve, couldn’t concentrate with him staring at her like that. She’d probably only been there a whole minute or two, but it felt indefinite. Ivy couldn’t stop thinking about the large portrait she’d accidentally stumbled upon, and her stomach knotted. She hated that something as simple as brushstrokes on canvas could cause such a reaction in her. And she hated that his whacked-out mood was somehow tied to that painting. There was no other explanation.

Her muscles tensed. She hadn’t done anything that terrible, but he’d treated her that way. The door had been open, for God’s sake. If it was that private, it should’ve been locked up in a safe or something. Now, she was getting irritated.

“I didn’t mean to upset you earlier,” Ivy said, “but who is that woman?” Now that it was front and center in her mind again, it was really starting to bother her. She looked so familiar. Maybe she’d come into the flower shop? She could ask Cherise about her. There was a good chance her boss could tell her something. No. That’d be too weird. Ivy shouldn’t care about these things. But, fuck... was she a former girlfriend... wife? Because she knew it wasn’t a damn sister. The woman was half-naked.

“I hardly think that’s any of your business.”

“What’s the big deal? I know I’ve seen her somewhere, and recently too. It’s bugging me and I just want to place the face.”

Yes, there was definitely that, but she also wanted to find out why there was a half-naked woman who wasn’t his damn sister immortalized in his back room.

“Ivy, stop asking questions.”

His tone should have warned her to back off. She could practically see his hackles rise before her eyes. She was provoking him, but she didn’t care.

“Tell me first.”

Jonathan took a step closer, and the flutters started again. “You want to know about her so badly, Ivy? She’s someone who is nothing like you. Nothing. And that’s all I’m going to fucking say.”

His words slammed her in the gut, and she couldn’t understand why. She couldn’t make sense of anything. His actions. Her actions. Why this stupid picture was some monumental thing they were both making too big a deal of. But she couldn’t stop. Once she started, she couldn’t reel herself back in without a struggle. She’d keep the momentum going until she either burned out or screwed herself over.

“What does that mean exactly? Nothing like me?”

He stormed towards the door, where she stood, making her heart race. “It means what it means.” He gripped the frame, his fingers white against the dark wood. “Now, leave before—”

“Does she work at that café? Or maybe go there often?” The thought just popped into her head. Maybe that’s where Ivy had seen her. It made just as much sense as anything else. “Is that why you freaked out when I asked to meet there?”

Maybe “freaked out” was too strong, but he’d definitely made it clear that he wanted to avoid the place. That had to be it. She—

“Damn it, Ivy. Shut up.”

“Why does this make you so mad?”

He let out a deep breath, sounding more like a growl. “This doesn’t make me mad. You are making me mad. You’re a goddamned nuclear explosion, and you don’t know how to shut your mouth.”

Should he be talking to her like this? He wasn’t raising his voice much, but it almost seemed harsher that way. He obviously had control over how he expressed his emotions, but she wasn’t making it easy for him. And she didn’t care.

“You’re being an asshole, Jon.” He shook his head like she was a total nutcase. “I barely did anything.”

He was so close. She could sense his exasperation, and it turned her on. What the hell was wrong with her?

“I broke up with Wes, you jerk. I just wanted to come and tell you that, and you treat me like some kind of criminal.” His face shifted into something she couldn’t recognize.

“I never told you to do that.”

“Of course, you didn’t.” Her voice got louder, and she didn’t try to temper it. “Like I’d do anything just because you told me to. You obviously don’t know me too well. Oh, except that you do, right? You must know me well enough to say that I’m nothing like that fucking naked mystery woman who—”

Jonathan rushed her so quickly, she leaped back and met the wall with a thud. “Ow!”

“Shut. Your. Mouth.”

He was as near as he could get without touching, and her body responded like nothing she could ever form into words. She scrambled to get out some smart-ass comment, but her brain wasn’t cooperating. Why had she wanted to tell him about Wes so badly? It really had nothing to do with him... yet it did. It had both everything and nothing to do with him.

He was violating her space. Daring her to go ahead and open her mouth again. He was closer to her than that day on the couch. That day when he’d walked away, making her feel humiliated. When his hand had covered her mouth, she hadn’t been able to think straight. She’d felt so hot and dizzy. Drunk from his scent and his taste on her lips. She’d needed that kiss, and she didn’t get it. That had left her furious at the time, but he’d also prevented her from doing something she would have regretted.

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