Page 48 of He Has Pluck

“Feel safe with you? How could I? You’re my biggest competitor.” I smirk, unsure if I mean it. His eyes go sad, losing their light and energy and he shakes his head again, turning away. I almost reach out to him, to console him, but how can I? He can’t be serious. If he is, I just punched him in the gut with rejection.

“Go if you’re going,” he says, without looking back.

“You don’t want to sleep with me. If you did, you’d have made a move long before now.” I would have felt his interest. He’s just testing me.

He shrugs and goes back to the film.

“It’s a temporary thing,” I say. “Meaningless. Not like the friendship between you and me, Carlos.” I’m desperate and hoping my words are the truth.

“If that’s what you want to tell yourself,” he mutters. But I hear him. Loud and clear.

Fuck. Am I lying to myself? If so, what the fuck is the truth?

I shudder and leave the room, slipping the phone from my pocket again and tapping on Jason’s messages.

Him: She’s not my girlfriend. A fling. I didn’t invite her.

Him: She’s not staying w me

Him: call or com ovr

Him: what r u doing? We shd talk. Call me or com ovr. Im alone.

Me: WTF? I don’t care.

There’s a few dots immediately, showing he’s been waiting for me to respond, and his panic makes me panic like this is going too far. No drama allowed. It’s an ironclad rule, and this is starting to feel like drama. I feel like I swallowed something too big that stretched my stomach then disappeared, leaving hollow desolation behind. I quickly text again before he finishes.

Me: It’s about time we end our fling anyway. It’s been swell.

With a shaky finger, I hit send before my resolve gets overwhelmed with a raw need that claws at me, before I can examine that hovering disappointment causing me actual fucking pain.

Chapter Sixteen

JASON

Brenna contaminates the ride to my room in Chelsea with uninterrupted enthusiasm for all things Brawlers, and if it wasn’t clear before that she’s more interested in my career status than she is in me, I am now fully informed. Her prattle stops as soon as I bring my Mustang to an abrupt halt at the curb in front of the obviously less than well-kept building that I currently avoid calling home, though it is in fact, where I live. And in fact, I’ve grown a measure of fondness for the quirky place due entirely to the fact that I’ve spent the most memorable nights of my life here. Not with Brenna.

With a woman who could be aptly described as the opposite of Brenna, the anti-Brenna. And there is no doubt about which one of these opposite women I prefer. Which one of these women I would walk on a bed of nails to reach, walk into a burning building gladly to rescue.

“Where are we?” Brenna screws up her face as if she’s smelled a skunk as she looks out the window. “Why are we stopping here?”

“This is where I live,” I say. “Not that you’re staying, but we needed some place to talk.”

“What do you mean? You live here? Why would you—never mind. Of course, I’m not staying here.”

“We need to talk, Brenna. Let’s go inside.” I open the door and go around the car, and when I open her door, she reluctantly steps down. I have to take her hand and coax her inside, though it goes against every grain in my body.

Do I really want her to intrude on the space I shared with Juliette? I stop abruptly in the front hall, and she pulls on my hand, shrinking back. I don’t know if it’s the smell or the sight of the chipped walls or that we run into one of the building’s other tenants and he gives her a leering, toothless grin. He’s not an old guy, but if I had to guess, I’d say meth hasn’t been kind to him and may have speeded up his aging process.

“Hey, Smitty,” I say. He doesn’t take his gaze off Brenna, and she clings to my arm as she tries to hide behind me.

“Who’s this little girl?” he says. “What happened to the other one—the hot ballbuster?”

“She’ll be back,” I say.

Brenna squeezes my arm and whispers angrily, “Who is he talking about? What—”

“Never mind. You’re right. I shouldn’t be bringing you here. You don’t belong here.” Her face clears from confused angry panic to relief, prematurely. But I’m not going to have that discussion here.