Page 21 of Tangled Up

I had to find a way out.

A car behind us honked, and we instantly released our hands. He turned the volume down, but neither of us spoke as we listened to the roaring song.

Jason made a left, quietly singing along to the radio. His voice was low and smooth, and I pretended not to notice. “Never placed you as a Paramore fan.”

He lifted one shoulder then glanced in my direction as I shielded my eyes from the sun. “Forget sunglasses?”

“Lost them.”

Without pause, he held out his mirrored aviators, but I hesitated. “Put them on.”

I squinted out of the windshield. “No. I’m fine.”

He dropped them in my lap. “Put them on. You’ll hurt your eyes squinting like that.”

“Are you always so bossy?”

“Are you always so difficult?”

After a few moments, I gave in and slid them on. “How do I look?”

He did a double take then a slow, crooked smile unfurled across his lips. “It’s a shame.”

“What?”

“It’s a shame you’re so damn gorgeous yet so incredibly annoying.”

My mouth dropped in amusement at his stolen insult, and I punched him in the arm.

“Hey.” He grabbed his shoulder. “That hurt.”

“That didn’t hurt, you weenie.”

He stopped at a red light and tossed me a look. “Weenie? Really?”

My smile unwittingly transformed into a giggle. Then he grinned, his teeth all gleaming, his eyes shining. Honestly, the audacity of being so good-looking was off the charts.

Arriving at Frank’s house, Jason parked on the grass alongside the already crowded driveway. He jumped out and sauntered around to the passenger side, holding his hand out to me when I opened my door. My eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he nodded back toward the house.

“I’m being a gentleman. Come on.”

Memories I’d rather keep locked away suddenly flashed in my mind, and I bit my lip, frozen in time, seven years ago.

A newly minted college freshman exploring the social scene. A frat house with a guy, not so unlike the one in front of me now, offering to be a gentleman, to take my hand and get me a drink. Little did I know what would be in that drink. Thank the universe, Bronte, Sam, and Laney had seen it, and they had saved me. We’d gone from near-strangers to best friends in a matter of minutes.

And all because of a pretty boy with a nice smile.

“Gemma, you okay?” Jason asked, stepping closer to drop his hand on the seat next to my knee.

I shook myself out of my years’ old nightmare and into the present. “Yeah, fine.”

“Are you sure? You look a little pale all of a sudden.” When he reached for me again, I backed away.

I hated that instinctive reaction, yet sometimes fight-or-flight mode took over. Most of the time, I used my words to fight, but on occasion, my body preferred the flight.

“Sorry,” he said quickly, although he seemed to apologize out of confusion rather than any real emotion.

“It’s fine.” I bypassed him and hopped out of the truck on my own. “I’m fine. Really.”

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