Page 8 of Fluke
“And you’re bad for mine since you always shut me down.”
“Trust me, you don’t want to date me.”
Jess snorts. “Okay.”
“You don’t. You’re marriage and daddy material. I’m not into that.”
He leans forward, his voice dropping a few levels. “Trust me, Pip,you’d be into that.”
His eyes darken into the deepest green that I’ve ever seen them. A chill races across my skin, leaving goose bumps in its wake.
I’m absolutely certain I’d be intothatwith him. How could I not be? Hell, I’ve imagined him many nights when it’s just me in bed and I need relief.
But when I can already sense the complications that would arise with Jess, and we’re only friends, that’s enough to keep my head on straight. There’s no sense in wasting our time. Although, any orgasm Jess Carmichael delivers would be spectacular.
But I’ll never be all the things he’d want me to be.
And I’m fine with that.
“Are you afraid you’ll fall in love with me?” he asks.
I giggle. “No. Not even a little bit.”
Kerissa pulls out her chair beside me and sits, looking over her shoulder and scanning the room.
Jess and I smile.
“Banks isn’t back yet,” Jess says.
Her shoulders slump. “Good.”
“Why do you hate him so much?” I ask. “It’s been so long that I don’t even remember.”
Kerissa looks surprised. “He dated my sister. Remember?”
Oh yeah. That’s right.
Kandace was devastated when she and Banks ended things. It wasn’t like they dated for a long time, but the girl acted like a kicked puppy. Everything reminded her of him. She moped for weeks, crying and pouting and acting ridiculous. We spent most of that summer with her, trying to take her mind off it at their mother’s command. It was a messy ordeal, but I barely remember what started it.
“Yeah.” She glances at Jess. “Your brother broke my sister’s heart so completely that I will never, ever forgive him.”
Jess shrugs. “Hey, you’re not going to hear an argument from me. The little shit does stuff all the time that I find unforgivable.”
“Like what?” I ask.
“Well, like the fact that I’ve spent the past two fucking weeks finding stickers with his face on them stuck to everything in my house.”
My jaw drops. “You’re kidding?”
“Nope. He ordered one thousand of them and broke in and plastered them on every surface. Cups, the floor, condoms—my toothbrush. They’re in the bottom of my shoes. I went to use my debit card the other day, and there he was.”
“You should kill him,” Kerissa says. “Do the world a favor.”
Jess looks down at his phone and laughs. “Speaking of the devil, I need to go. He picked me up from a job site, and I rode over here with him. He’s ready to leave—he even paid our tab—and if I don’t go out there now, the fucker will leave me.”
His gaze lands on mine once again. It’s like being held—a contactless form of support that I’ve rarely found in the world.
It’s probably because I’ve known him for a long time.
