Page 24 of Bad for You

She pointed at me. “I refused to let you use me as an emotional…fluffer, and you didn’t like it? So you thought the correct response to that was to insult me? To try to make me feel small and pathetic, like we were in the freaking schoolyard?”

Emotional fluffer? What the fuck? “No, hang on, Bambi…”

“No, Jesse. Just, no. None of what you’re saying is okay. You’re right about one thing, though, I don’t just jump into bed with anyone. Yes, I asked you to take things slow with me when we first met, but that was because you’re kind of intimidating. Being with you was…overwhelming. But I’m not some goddamned prude. I’m as sexual as the next person. And you’ve made it crystal clear I’m not your type, that the big bad biker can do a whole lot better. You don’t need to say any more. And you sure as hell don’t need to throw it back in my face, okay?”

“What the fuck, Lila? And what the hell do you mean, I can do better?”

She said nothing, just stared up at me with big, hurt, angry eyes.

I grabbed her waist, the side of her slender throat, pulling her closer, brushing my thumb over her smooth skin. I needed to get across to her that she was wrong. And fuck it, I wanted to touch her as well. “You think I didn’t want you? Christ, you have no idea. None. Fuck, Lila, I still want you, I…”

“Bullshit.” She shoved at my chest. “Don’t you dare… Don’t play with me, you selfish son of a bitch.”

I stared down at her stunned. “I’m not doing that, I would never…”

“I know exactly what you’re doing.”

She had me fucking stuttering, brain scrambled. I bested everyone I fought in the ring. My club brothers, our enemies, they didn’t mess with me. Some were openly afraid of me. And here was Lila, raining her anger down on me, putting me in my place and not giving one shit.

She shoved again, and I stepped back, speechless. Definitely a first for me.

“I don’t trust easy.” Her eyes locked on mine. “But I trusted you, Jesse. For some stupid reason, I trusted you, and you threw it back in my face. I can’t…” She backed away. “I can’t do this with you. Just, I need you to leave me alone.”

Then she slammed the lock back and rushed out, leaving me standing there like an asshole. Eves stood there watching me, the others had gone after Lila.

“Your girl handed me my ass,” I said to Everly. “Happy?”

She shook her head, then she stormed off as well.

I paced Dane’s old apartment above Rocktown Ink.

It was late, dark, cold outside, but I always ran hot. I yanked my shirt off and tossed it aside. Didn’t help that I couldn’t get Lila out of my head. Or what she’d said to me in that bathroom three nights ago.

Emotional fluffer? What even was that?

I gave in, pulled my phone out of my back pocket, and googled it.

Emotional fluffer: Friends with emotional benefits. A boyfriend or girlfriend without the rewards. Generally, a guy/girl friend is used for the emotional benefit in the relationship, while the physical benefit is being taken care of by another guy/girl.

What the fuck?

Why would she think that? Is that what I’d been doing? I definitely hadn’t been getting physical benefits from anyone else. I dragged my hand over my hair and growled. No, she was wrong. I liked talking to her. I’d missed her. That’s all. I wasn’t using her.

As for me thinking I could do better than her? Fuck, no. It was the opposite, which was part of the reason I’d ended it with her. She didn’t think she was my type. Shit, my type before her had been anyone willing. That was the extent of it.

I’d never met anyone like her. I’d taken one look at Lila and she’d knocked me on my ass. I’d wanted her from the second I’d laid eyes on her. I didn’t know where she was getting all this bullshit from, and I wanted to force her to listen to me, to believe me.

I kicked the side of the couch and hissed in pain.

What was I even doing here? I should have stayed in Black Stone. This was a mistake.

My phone rang and I snatched it out of my back pocket, checking the screen. My entire body went rock solid.

I wanted to ignore it, but the asshole would find another way to get to me. He always did.

I hated that my heart rate accelerated as I answered. “What?”

“We need to talk,” his hated, familiar voice echoed down the line.