Page 109 of Dallas

Well, she wasn’t all that happy either. Considering the release she’d just had, she was battling between horror, anger at herself, anger at him and a sweet sort of languor that made her feel boneless and warm and wonderful. It didn’t make any sense that satisfaction and terror could exist side by side.

But right now they did. Her body was all happy and smoking a cigarette. Her mind was completely freaking out.

It was quiet in the bathroom now. Except for the water that was still running. Cold now, and she was still in it as it got higher.

Awkward silence had passed to devastating silence, and they were just sort of staring at each other, letting it get worse.

Hell. It couldn’t get worse. Could it get worse?

It was getting worse. He was still standing there, staring at her. And she was just staring at him. And she felt like she was looking at a stranger. Because was it really Jace who had taken her to heaven like that? Her best friend, the man she’d known since she was sixteen?

Yes. Yes, it had been.

And now, after speaking millions upon millions of words to the man with total ease over the course of the past fourteen years, she couldn’t think of one to say after getting a mind-bending orgasm from him.

Not one.

Except maybe...

“Thanks.”

“What?”

He didn’t look happy that that was the word she’d said.Damn. Bad choice. Yes, judging by the stormy look in his dark eyes, it had been a bad choice.

“I don’t know,” she said, sitting up, suddenly so embarrassed she thought she might die of it. “I don’t know what I’m saying. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know.” She climbed out of the tub, her jeans stuck tight to her legs, and scrambled for her shirt.

“Why the hell did you...thank me?”

“Because the orgasm was good?” She tugged her shirt over her head. “It seemed polite.”

“Polite?”

“I don’t know. What’s the protocol for this situation?”

“There is no protocol.” He let out a string of curse words, each progressively more crass than the last, ending in a word combination she never could have conceived of. “There is no protocol.”

“I was afraid of that.Farmer’s Almanachas nothing? No? Okay.”

Jace was still shirtless, still standing in the tub in water that hit him mid-shin. His expression was starting to resemble that of man who’d been punched in the stomach with the end of a two-by-four.

It was like watching him go through the stages of grief. Denial was the part that had him frozen in the tub, and she had a feeling anger would be next. But she didn’t know whether the anger would be directed at himself or her.

And she didn’t really want to stick around to find out. “It’s been a long day,” she said, starting to edge out of the bathroom, wondering if Jace would be pissed about the water on the floor. Too damn bad. She was not hanging around to clean it up. That was what had caused this mess in thefirst place.

It confirmed her deepest suspicion that nothing truly good ever came of housework.

“Yeah,” he said, looking down, probably realizing he was still standing in the tub.

“I’m going to go to bed.” It was five o’clock. Even she didn’t buy her BS. But darn it all, she would huddle up in her room until Jace went to work the next morning if she had to. Because she couldn’t deal with this just yet. Just yet or maybe never.

So she would do what she’d done when she was a kid and reality sucked. She would cover her head with a blanket and imagine she was somewhere else. Just like she’d done nearly every time they’d moved.

Or on particularly cold, frightening nights sleeping in their car.

As scary as that had been, she was pretty sure this was worse. Because this had rocked her foundation.

If she ruined things with Jace, there was no one else.

---