Page 13 of Prey Tell
“Yeah, got that part.” I laugh.
He sighs. “Everyone’s having sex but me.”
“Yeah? Maybe you should remedy that,” I joke.
“How was the party last night?” he asks, changing the subject.
“Same as usual.” I look over at my best friend, who’s looking down at his coffee with a furrowed brow. “One of these nights you should stay. I bet you’d like it.”
He wrinkles his nose. “Thanks, but I’ll pass. I won’t pretend to understand the kind of sexual deviant shit you’re into, and I most certainly don’t want to find out.”
I chuckle. “You’d be surprised.”
“You do you. But I don’t get it.”
I arch one of my brows. “Maybe it’s not aboutgettingit. Maybe it’s about finding the right person to try it with,” I offer, watching his face as he considers my words.
Jax straightens and finishes his coffee. “Yeah. Maybe.” He looks at the door. “Youcertainly have a type.”
“Oh? Please do enlighten me, ye olde wise one,” I tease.
He grins. “Small, brunette, feisty…”
“I’ve fucked all kinds of women, Jax. I don’t have a type,” I interrupt. Setting my mug down, I walk to the other side of the kitchen and grab a pan. “I’m making an omelet. Want some?”
“Sure.”
I crack the eggs into a bowl and add cheese, sliced bell peppers, and mushrooms. Two minutes later, I’m sliding the perfectly cooked breakfast onto our respective plates.
Jax is staring into his second cup of coffee.
“Here.” I slide the plate to him. “Eat. You’re going to need your energy with those miniature tyrants.”
“Fuck me gently with a chainsaw,” he grumbles. “I’m so fucking tired. I need caffeine in an IV.”
I smirk. “I can have that arranged, you know.”
He gives me a withering look. “Fuck off, you rich bastard. I could sleep for twenty more hours. And I have to stay after work to help with the rehearsal forA Midnight Summer’s Dream,and then Juliet’s party…”
Fuck. Is that tonight?
I grip my fork tightly as my jaw clenches. Jackson must see my hesitation, because he sits up straighter and scrunches up his face.
“Hey, I’ve been meaning to say thanks—”
“Don’t worry about it,” I tell him quickly, suddenly too nauseous to eat. “It’s the least I could do.”
“You’re a good friend, Chase Ravage. And a good person.”
No, I’m not.
I give him a smile that’s probably more of a grimace as I take our plates and load the dishwasher. I wish he were right. I wish I could wear my heart on my sleeve, like him.
But my heart is locked away behind barbed wire and chains.
Only one person ever had the key, and she was too good for me. I pushed her away before she could find out.
Because I’d never be worthy of that key.
