Breathe, Alexander. Don’t be a dumbass.
It was impossible to think clearly while around Jada. And that was exactly why I had to head to Payson. I had to put some space between us before I really fucked shit up. Just watching her sleep, this potent mix of beauty and seduction, naivety and strength, made me think crazy shit.
Like lying beside her, pulling her close, and falling asleep with her in my arms …
Thank fuck I had just had a major orgasm or who knows what would have happened.
Instead, I kissed her on the forehead and raced home.
I didn’t sleep at all that night; her scent was all over me. It was something pure and soft, something classy. Just like her. I couldn’t get the feel of her body out of my mind. Even after showering, I could still see her, hear her, smell her, taste her.
And I wanted more.
I never wanted more.
What in the hell is wrong with me?
By four AM, I was worried about my fucking sanity. I was still wide awake, my mind not shutting down. Even after six rounds on the heavy bag—something that normally exhausts every cell in my body—I still couldn’t rest.
I felt like I had Freud in my brain, prompting me to reconsider choices I had made and choices I needed to make.
How did I get myself in this position at all? When did I give a fuck? When did I care about this shit?
I didn’t need Freud, I needed Machiavelli. I was at war. With myself, no less.
Everything I thought I knew about, well, everything, now seemed challengeable. The rules that I lived by all seemed … open to doubt. And that wasn’t possible.
Those were the things that made me Cane Alexander. Those were the guidelines that kept me strong, kept me focused, kept me on the path that led to where I wanted to be.
Didn’t they?
Didn’t I want an uncomplicated life? Didn’t I want to work hard during the day and play however I felt like it at night? Didn’t I enjoy a different girl in my bed a few times a week?
Hell yeah I do.
Right?
I scratched my head roughly, my arms aching from working out so long.
I ignored a text from Miriam last night. Worse yet, I wasn’t even interested. What the fuck is wrong with me?
This thing with Jada, whatever it was, was ruining my life.
Or was it making it better?
Fuck if I knew.
All I did know was that things between Jada and I had changed. The illusion of friendship that we had been able to navigate under was no more. There could now be no casual flirting, no more wondering, “what would happen if …” I had willingly, and enthusiastically, crossed that line and there was no going back.
I just wasn’t sure how to go forward, either.
This is why you don’t do dumb shit like this. You should be sport-fucking someone right now.
Before the sun came up on Friday morning, only hours after leaving Jada sleeping, I called Max and told him I was going to Payson and that he needed to keep track of everything for a couple of days.
I went to my cabin up there, had some beers, tried to organize my brain, and came back late Sunday night. The only contact I had with the outside world had been with Max to ensure that the Queen Creek job stayed on track … and that Simon hadn’t been around.
Max, as always, took care of everything. I paid him well, of course, but his loyalty was worth more than I could ever pay him. Since he hooked up with Kari, Max had changed for the better. He was more loyal, more focused, more serious. I guessed that is what happened when you fell in love.
Is that happening to me and I just can’t see it?
No. No, it wasn’t. I was going to keep my balls. As much as I liked, possibly really liked, Jada Stanley, I wasn’t about to get involved.
I didn’t have it in me.
And Jada wasn’t going to be a fuck buddy. I didn’t want to see the look in her eyes at a certain point. Namely the point when I moved on.
That would happen.
And that is what it all boiled down to. I had to be able to leave her behind. I had laid everything out there once before and learned a few very valuable lessons.
I had adjusted my game after that.
There was no room in my life for doing something stupid like falling in love. Love was for the weak, for the fools of the world that couldn’t make it on their own. That’s if it really even existed at all.
I would not be getting sucked in to a relationship with Jada Stanley or anyone else. But if Powers wasn’t going to leave her alone, I would have to take matters into my own hands.
Picking up my phone again, I dialed the main office number to Stanley Real Estate. Mrs. Jewell picked up promptly.
“Hi, Alice. This is Cane Alexander. Is there any chance Mr. Stanley is in?”
“Oh, hello, Cane. Yes, I think he’s still around. Can you hold for a second?”
“Sure.” I watched the shadows play against the wall while I waited for Thomas to pick up. I considered what angle to take with him.
“Thomas Stanley.”
“Hi, Thomas. This is Cane Alexander.”