Page 23 of The Jester and His Outlaw: Part 2

“I didn’t come here to be chastised,” he finally says.

“Then why did you come here?”

“I guess I wanted to talk to you. To see how you were doing.” I roll my eyes, biting my tongue. This is not an appropriate setting to let my obscenities fly, plus my parents will be back any time and unless I want them to kiss his ass and think we are getting back together, I need him gone.

“Well, you talked, I listened. You can go now.” My tone is low, no nonsense, but Jonas couldn’t care less. It’s his world and he damn well knows it. The guy is a fucking creep.

His sneer is one for the history books as he straightens the suit jacket he’s wearing like the tool he is. He doesn’t deserve the money and good fortune that his family has. Across the room, I watch my father chat up the man behind the bar who mixes the drinks. He seems to be having a good time and I don’t see my mother anywhere in sight.

“Is there something else? Any reason you’re still standing here?”

“You’re an ungrateful little—”

Our server finally shows. I guess my parents have taken so long our dessert is ready. He drops a brown paper bag with twine for handles down on the tabletop.

“Here you are, miss,” he says, noting the tension between Jonas and me. The man clears his throat, giving me a side eye as if to ask if I am okay. I nod my head, and send him off to find my father so they can settle the bill.

“Where were we? Oh right, I think you were about to fuck off.” Jonas’ eyes glint with something entirely too dark for my comfort. Goading him probably isn’t the smartest thing, but I can’t help the jab. Gotta get them in when I can.

“Enjoy playing with your scum, Miller.” I ignore him and pull out my piece of cheesecake and a plastic fork. I suddenly have an appetite for something sweet and I need to get my mind off of Riggs. What better way to drown my sorrows than stuffing my face with a fattening dessert.

When Jonas leaves and my parents still haven’t returned, my mother having joined Dad at the bar, I ask the server for a large soda to go. When he asks what kind I tell him to surprise me, the more sugar the better. The man knows what I’m asking because he comes back with a cup filled to the brim with neon green liquid.

“We don’t have large cups to go, miss. So I brought you a refill with no ice to make up the difference.”

“You’re a saint,” I say and shove my straw in the hole. “Oh, also, can you bring two more slices?”

CHAPTER11

If someone askedme why I’m doing this, I would have no logical explanation other than I love the kid and the interaction with him and J over the phone killed me. I couldn’t handle hearing him begging for Jensen to turn the speaker off, so he couldn’t hear me.

Maybe they shouldn’t have warned me he was coming today, and I wouldn’t be holding a single red rose. Isn’t the guy the one supposed to bring roses and court the girl? Traditional roles are out the window for me. What I want is him. And he feels the same for me. He has to. So, I’m going to try again.

One last try. If he says no, then I’ll walk away today. How, I don’t know, but I’ll walk away.

He probably doesn’t want to see me. I’m not surprised if he is embarrassed, though he has nothing to be embarrassed about. My existence in his life has turned it upside down as much as it has mine. Everyone handles change in different ways, and life has told him on multiple occasions that this change isn’t good for anyone. His reaction and decisions make sense, to me at least.

My world stops when I see him.

He has on a backwards ball cap, one piece of stray hair falling over his forehead, and he is stripping off his blue and white leather riding jacket. His uniform is wrinkle-free, tucked in. I’m willing to bet J had something to do with that. He’s been dishing out some tough love to his bestie lately. His boots, though, they’re still ratty. And I love that fact.

I inhale nice and slow as my heart knocks against my chest, reminding me how I feel every time I’m in his presence. Something about this visit is different. I’m not sure why. We haven’t talked since that night, but J says he’s doing well. I’m optimistic because I trust J not to steer me wrong, and he has been supportive of us from the beginning, begging me that if there is anything between us to fight for it.

He thinks Riggs is ready.

Without giving myself a chance to back out, I plant my feet by his side. He freezes, instantly sensing my presence, his body going ramrod straight. The breath he takes to calm himself is long, but easy.

“Jester,” is all I say.

He blinks, chewing the skin on the inside of his cheek as if he’s nervous and it’s annoyingly adorable. To the outside world, and shit… to myself, my connection with him is odd at best. Certainly unhealthy. If my mother knew about it, I can guarantee she would spin me in the opposite direction and send me on my way.

But she isn’t here. He doesn’t beat me and he has said nothing that constitutes him as a bad person, at least not in my eyes. Should all of it have turned me away from him? Yeah, sure. I can’t deny that. But I see him. I feel him on a level I can’t explain and I’m done trying to justify that. The heart wants what the heart wants.

If Riggs says Charley, then we’re not where I want to be. If he calls me Outlaw...

The longer he waits, the bigger the pit in my stomach grows and my confidence falls. I tap my foot on the tiled floor, feeling all eyes on me simply because I’m with Riggs and they love gossip.

He glances at me out of the corner of his eye before he turns the weight of his icy blue orbs on me. They’re clearer than I’ve ever seen them before, like an addict coming clean, but he looks at me with regret. I swallow, meeting his gaze.

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