Page 16 of Jig's Last Dance

Jig’s mouth curls into a frown, but he moves away. Once he’s gone, I breathe deeply. With a slow exhale, I sit up in the bed and clutch my head. What am I doing?

I have no new text messages from Ben, but I can’t exactly hang out here. This is enemy territory as far as Ben’s concerned, and as much as I’d like to tell him off, I need him. He’s all I have left.

Tapping out a text, I slip on a shirt and wander to the window, gazing out at the property. The fact that Jig lives on a substantial plot of land in a real-life mansion is so at odds with his punk personality that it’s jarring.

Behind the house, acres of grass are interspersed with trees and hedges perfectly trimmed. From here, it looks picture-perfect but is this his reality?

He’s all smiles, but what lurks below the surface?

My phone buzzes and I read the text before sagging. Fuck.

Shawn:Sorry, chica. I’m grounded until my brothers get a life

Shawn:You never did tell me where you spent the night

Flopping on the bed, I groan. I’m stuck at his house with his friends because I don’t have any other options.

This is what happens when you shun the people around you. I’m fucking screwed.

“Hm, don’t move,” Jig purrs. I huff, lifting my head. His eyes raise from my ass to my face with a cheeky grin, and I cover my smile with a frown.

“Whatever.”

He raises a brow and slaps me on the butt. “C’mon. Food.”

With a flustered look, I jump from the bed and grab my skirt before pulling it on roughly. He watches with a curl to his lip, and I avert my eyes.

“You mentioned food?”

“Mm, yep.”

Grabbing my boots, I shove my feet in them and clutch my phone in my hand. For whatever reason, I feel like I need armor, and this is the best I’m going to get.

Jig eyes me curiously but doesn’t comment. I follow him from the room, crossing my arms over my braless chest before my mouth sours. Jig has never disputed Bastion’s claim about my tits.

All of my stupidity is rushing back now that reality has intruded, and I don’t much like the foolish burn in my chest.

Down the stairs and through several halls we go before finding the kitchen.

Three sets of eyes turn in my direction when I enter, and I pause at the threshold before lifting my chin in the air.

I vowed three years ago to stay away from the drama, yet here I am, in the same fucking kitchen with it, all domestic like.

“Who’s she?” Cyn grunts, looking at me with a cool stare.

Before they graduated, Cyn Callahan was a god at school. Chicks literally panted after him, which led to brawls in the hallway. Much like Jig and Bastion, he was a little whore until Rain came along. I see the appeal in a way, but Cyn’s stern features, green eyes, and lethal stare have nothing on Jig.

“Alice,” Rain says, turning to him. “She’s the one who jumped in when those bitches attacked me last year.”

At the mention, Cyn frowns and Rain’s expression darkens.

“Hm,” he says. “Well, c’mon, let’s eat. I’m starving.”

He casts Jig a stern look, but Jig just shrugs, “Sorry, man. Something came up.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it did,” Cyn mutters.

Although I have no idea what they’re talking about, I know what Cyn is inferring. But I bite the denial trembling on my tongue. What do I care if these dicks think I fucked Jig? I guess what we did was pretty damn close anyway.

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