Page 56 of Jesse's Girl
My body aches for more and my mind, addled by the damp heat gathering between my legs, has lost control. Without even meaning to, I arch my back, pushing my breasts into his chest. The places he’s touching me blaze with heat and I drift closer still, my lips seeking his, needing to be tethered in the storm rushing around us.
Fuck, yes.
Wait. No. Fuck, no!
I push off the chair, tearing myself from his body. Scrambling to stand, I back away a few steps.
“Jesse…” I say his name on a hard exhale. “We…” I don’t know what to say. I cross my arms tightly over my chest, not trusting myself. “We can’t.”
“Sorry. I just…” He scrubs both hands down his face. “Sorry, yeah, you’re right. Fuck.” Shaking his head, he frowns at the floor and stands.
“I should…” I trail off, throwing a fleeting look at my bedroom door, and back up a few more paces. My cheeks burn with a mixture of shame and arousal, and I do everything in my power to avoid those fucking blue eyes. I catch his fingers clenching, and the fire inside me blazes again at the memory of his hands on my hips, my waist, the curve of my lower back. Glancing again toward my room, I gesture behind me. “I was gonna go work on my…” I need to get away from here—from him.
We don’t speak for a moment, the awkward, charged silence hanging like molten lead in the air. When I brave a look at Jesse, there’s a hard set to his jaw and his expression is a swirling mixture of desire and regret. He’s angry at himself, I’m guessing. But there’s also something more, like he can’t decide whether to punch a hole in the wall or pin me up against it.
“Yeah, okay,” he finally says. “Um, I’ll… I’ll clean this up.” He gestures at the mess on the floor, then rubs the back of his neck.
“Okay, yeah,” I say. I hurry to my room without turning back, quickly shutting the door behind me. My eyes close.
Oh, fuck.
12
JESSE
Renee’s friend Maya meets me outside the restaurant and we do the awkward first date dance, introducing ourselves and making small talk. I stay mostly quiet while Maya gushes about how nice Renee is for having set us up.
When Renee texted me last night about another date with one of her friends, I accepted right away, using a few more exclamation points than necessary to convey my enthusiasm. Because fuck. I need to meet someone else. I need a damn distraction. It also wouldn’t hurt to show Marcus I’ve got my eyes on someone other than his sister, in case he still feels uneasy about our living arrangement. After almost kissing Ada yesterday, my paranoia that he’ll notice the way I look at her has only worsened.
I should never have let my control slip like that. I shouldn’t have even asked her to cut my hair in the first place. But having her so close—surrounded by her sweet scent, feeling her hands on me—was intoxicating. I couldn’t help myself. And, if I’m honest, I tried to drag it out as long as I could, desperate to keep her with me. Then my fucking dick started calling the shots. Thank God she stopped us before it went too far; I couldn’t have pulled away at that point.
I need to get my shit together.
A pang of regret threatens as I pull open the door to Carnival; it might be a shitty move to bring a date here while Ada’s on-shift, but I need to show her I’m committed to nothing further happening between us. If we’re just friends, we need to act like it. Because that’s all we can ever be. And bringing a date to a place where my friend bartends isn’t out of line. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself. I just need to push through this awkwardness and behave like a normal person around her. And, in the meantime, maybe I’ll convince myself I can continue living with Ada without another serious lapse in judgment.
Maya walks ahead of me, wearing a yellow summer dress and a flowy cardigan. I won’t deny she’s an attractive woman—her auburn hair bounces around her shoulders and she shoots me a contagious smile over her shoulder. I can’t help but smile back, though an unsettled feeling prickles at the back of my neck. The moment we pause in the entryway, waiting to be seated, what I’ve been trying to avoid becomes impossible to ignore. My eyes drift against my will to the bar.
Seeing Ada brings it all back. The way she touched me, the way she leaned in close, the way her gaze lingered on my lips… I know I wasn’t imagining it. She felt something too—wanted that kiss just as bad as I did. The feeling of her body against mine plays through my memory on a torturous loop. For the thousandth time today, I try and fail to shake it the fuck off.
Ada doesn’t spot me right away. The bar is busy and she’s got a line of customers. Her coworker, a tall, good-looking guy with dark hair, pulls a pint of beer from the tap, obviously laying it on thick for the group of young women he’s serving.
When she finally sees me, I have the impulse to look away but can’t quite make myself pretend I wasn’t watching her. I raise my hand, giving her a covert wave. At that moment, Maya leans over and lets me know our table is ready.
A flicker of realization passes over Ada’s face before I can turn away to follow the hostess to our table.
Oh, God. Why did I decide to come here?
The look she just gave me felt like a punch in the gut.
Maya chooses her seat first, leaving me with the one facing the bar. Great. Now I’ll need to crank my willpower into high gear all night to avoid staring at Ada over Maya’s shoulder. I briefly consider asking Maya to switch seats, but I can’t think of a reason that doesn’t sound absurd.
Just muscle through. Focus on getting to know Maya.
I try my best, but I’d be lying if I said the turquoise hair bobbing in my peripheral vision wasn’t constantly on my radar.
Maya and I go through the motions. Without going into detail, I explain how my mom’s medical crisis brought me home for the summer. Maya listens with empathy, telling me about when her aunt had a stroke. Or was it her mom’s cousin?
Shit. I’m not being a great listener tonight.