Page 112 of Bulletproof

It was a nice thing to say.

“Me too,” Aaron sighed.

“You’re lucky Jaden’s still sleeping,” another man who I didn’t know scoffed before groaning. It was too much movement.

“Tell me, Aaron,” Hayes said as he tipped his head, looking at me, “is Jory that pretty color all over?”

My ex said nothing, and I could tell from the clench of the muscles in his jaw that he wasn’t ready yet for banter.

“I bet he is.” Hayes leered at me. “And I, for one, would love to find out.”

And that was it.

“Fuck you, Mr. Fisher,” I muttered, stalking by the table.

“Jory.” Hayes was laughing and groaning at the same time. It hurt to be amused when you were hungover.

I moved fast.

“Jory, fuck! Stop before my head explodes.”

When I rounded on him, Hayes stopped before he hit me, and the motion made him have to clutch at the wall.

“Shit.”

“What?”

“God, it’s like I spend every second that I’m with you apologizing.”

I turned to go, but he grabbed my bicep, holding tight.

“Just wait. I’m sorry, okay? That was stupid and⁠—”

“Demeaning.”

“Yes.”

I waited.

“Jory”—he backed me up against the wall and then leaned close, bracing a hand there and looking at me—“last night, I was drunk and stupid and⁠—”

“Still are,” I told him, levering off the wall.

His hand on my bicep tightened, holding me, and his other hand rose toward my face.

“What the fuck, Hayes?” I barked at him, shoving him off me.

“Jory, just let me talk to you,” he snapped, reaching for me again.

“You can talk to me without putting your hands on me.”

He looked pained, and I understood—again. Here I was—a nothing, a nobody—telling him what he could and could not do. And normally, people let him have his way, invited him close because of who he was and what he represented. And it wasn’t like he had a kept boy like Jaden, not yet, but he bought gifts and dinner and paid for everything, so really, it was the same damn thing. He just didn’t have anyone living in his house and sleeping in his bed on a day-to-day basis.

“Jory, please, just⁠—”

“If I was some blue-blooded guy you were dating, if I was from some rich family, you’d never think of doing anything but courting me.”

“Courting you? What are you talk⁠—”