Page 7 of Trip

4

JJ

Her mind was reeling. She’d never stopped loving Cris, never. He was offering her most of everything she’d ever wanted, so why was she hesitating?

Illusions.

Cris—no, the man making the offer was definitely Trip—was offering illusions of things she wanted. He offered her sex, not love, and faux forgiveness, not closure. Which, considering what he thought of her, was more than she’d ever expected.

It would also make her best friend happy, and once she backed off, JJ could really try to move on with her life. Spending time with Trip was exactly what she needed. Any delusions she harbored deep down inside of forgiveness, understanding, or reconciliation with Cris would be crushed by the end of a week by Trip. That may not be what she wanted, but it was one thousand percent what she needed.

It wasn’t like she didn’t see the black denim cut on the living room chair. She’d learned that word on the shoot when the photographer asked to borrow a vest from one of the guys. He did not react kindly.

She also knew who the Desert Phantoms were. As Meri pointed out, she lived a stone’s throw from their clubhouse. Hell, she’d done a photo shoot at the garage they owned. Meri was on point when she was baffled that they hadn’t run into each other. She was too, as soon as she’d seen the orange-shrouded phantom glaring back at her from the back of black denim hanging on the chair.

The Cristofer she knew was gone and before her stood Trip. It was only fitting since Jessika was gone, too.

JJ crossed her arms over her chest in an attempt to protect herself from the predator at the door. That’s exactly what he was, and she felt like prey. He’d looked at her with a combination of pain, which was likely more wounded pride, lust, and loathing.

“Seems to me you can’t stand the sight of me. That will make it difficult to fool Meri, or sleep in the same room. Much less have a damn good time doing it, as you say. You expect me just to drop my pants for you like we’re teenagers again? That’s not my style. Hard pass.”

Instead of walking away, which he was damn good at, Trip mirrored her stance. Everything about him set alarm bells off in her head. This was not the same man she’d fallen for years ago. Nope, he was way more dangerous than Cris ever was, and not just to her heart.

“Do I need to remind you that Meri is like a fucking Labrador with a tennis ball? She won’t let this go. We can be free of each other and her meddling. You can go back to whatever it is you do with your time and I can get back to whoever I do with mine.”

His words knocked the wind out of her. Nope, not the same man at all. What was the point in taking a shot at her when he was trying to gain her compliance? None other than to be an industrial-sized Massengill canoe paddling down a vinegar and water stream.

She wanted to tell him to get fucked but needed to get over Cris and get Meri off her back. Seemed like the perfect solution was to get on her back under Trip. But she didn’t know if she could do that. With a steadying breath, JJ committed to what she knew would liberate her by destroying her.

“Fine. Just to get Meri off our backs. But I don’t need your good time. We can get comfortable being in the same room and maybe learn enough about each other to fool her, but other than that, I’m not interested.”

Trip brushed past her to enter the room but stopped when they were shoulder to shoulder. A shudder coursed through her when he leaned into her neck. His humid, whiskey-soaked breath raised goose bumps on her flesh when he spoke.

“You keep telling yourself that, Jess. Maybe one of us’ll buy it.” The way he said her old name made her wish that girl, ignorant to heartache, still existed.

By the time she settled her frayed nerves and turned, Trip lay on the bed, the sheet covering him from the waist down, one arm under his head, and eyes closed in the picture of peace.

What in the actual fuck?

“Um, I was thinking you’d sleep over there.” She pointed to the too-small love seat. “Or on the floor.”

He cracked open one stunning blue eye, then the other, giving her a look that dropped her pants more times than not.

“If the full-sized couch is too small, then that most certainly is too. And the floor is too hard.”

Trip flipped the sheet up in invitation and she realized he was completely naked.

“You sound like fucking Goldilocks. Too small, too hard.”

“We can talk too hard if you want, but too small isn’t an issue.” Then he winked. The fuckhead winked. JJ hoped her groan was silent. “Besides, you’re not interested, remember? Then sharing a bed shouldn’t tempt you. We can’t get reacquainted enough to fool Meri if I am miserable on the floor. My arm is still sore as fuck, by the way.” He was laying it on thick and despite her best effort not to, she smiled.

For a second, she got a glimpse of Cris. “Not chicken, are you? Bock-bock.” Then Trip was back in the driver’s seat. “I promise, I won’t fuck you until you beg for it.”

JJ needed Cris to stay in the background, leaving Trip at the fore, because if not, she was fucked in more ways than one.

“You are just as impossible as ever,” she mumbled to herself as she went into the closet to get dressed. She dropped the studded wear and donned her pj’s.

She slinked across the room to the bathroom to remove her makeup and brush her teeth. Slow was a step up from the turtle’s pace she was moving at. Her hope was Trip would be asleep by the time she finished. With one last sigh of resolve, she exited and climbed into bed next to him, careful to keep some good, old-fashioned, bundling-board distance.

---