Page 77 of One Good Crash
"But why?" I asked. "She's a lot better candidate."
"Maybe. Maybe not. But the offer's for you. Not her."
Feeling utterly deflated, I slumped in the chair. "So itwasa pity job."
His jaw tightened. "I never said that."
"You didn't have to." I returned the sheet of paper to the desktop. "Because if itwasn'tsome sort of pity thing, you'd want the best candidate, not someone you feel sorry for." I crossed my arms and waited for to him to deny it.
He didn't.
Instead, he sat there, studying me with that penetrating gaze of his. His hair was perfect, and his clothes – the same casual ones he'd been wearing earlier – looked way too terrific on him, even if theywereat odds with our formal surroundings.
I met his gaze head-on, giving him the same level of scrutiny that he was giving me.
It did no good. He was a mix of contradictions, and I couldn't begin to figure him out. Even his muscles, they didn't belong on someone with his kind of moneyorthis kind of house.
No, they belonged on a biker, and not the wussy, fake kind of biker either – but rather the rough-and-tumble kind, therealkind who'd laugh at the rain and fuck like a Trojan.
I stiffened.Oh, my god.Where hadthatidea come from?
In a fit of frustration, I blurted out, "What are you thinking?"
"The truth?" He leaned back in his chair. "I'm thinking, you're different."
"I'm not different," I said. "I'm just like everyone else."
But already, Jax was shaking his head. "And I'm thinking, why is it, you did such a sorry-ass job of looking out for yourself, but you're going to bat so hard and heavy for your friend."
I couldn’t decide if that was a compliment or an insult. "Hey, I look out for myself just fine."
His gaze didn't waver. "Do you?"
I crossed my arms just a little bit tighter. "Definitely."
"Not the way I see it."
I felt my gaze narrow. "Is that so?"
"Yeah. It is. And I'd say more, but you wouldn't want to hear it."
I gave him a stiff smile. "Oh yeah? Well go ahead, I'm sure I can handle it just fine."
And I could.
It's not like my life had been all sunshine and roses. I'd heard plenty of foul language and seen a lot of things that I shouldn't've. Even the spectacle last night with my mom, it was pretty tame compared to some of the other stuff I'd witnessed.
True, she'd never included me in her schemes before, but she hadn't sheltered me from the sights – or sounds – of her activities either. Living with my mom, I'd had to grow up fast and learn to keep my mouth shut, if only to avoid attracting unwanted attention from her male visitors, which, let's face it, had been numerous.
And that was putting it mildly.
Jax gave me a dubious look. "Do you mean that? You want the unvarnished truth?That'swhat you're telling me?"
"If you meanyourversion of the truth, sure, why not?"
He looked at me for a long moment, as if waiting for me to take it back. And when I didn't, he said, "Alright. But remember, you asked for it."
My only reply was an indifferent shrug. He might think otherwise, but there was nothing he could say that would shock me.
