Broken and Screwed 2 (BS #2)

“Yeah.” His head turned away. He continued to rub at his jaw, as if mulling over some problem in his head.

I glanced at my lap, unsure what to say. I didn’t know this was how it would go down. When Zala gave me Jesse’s address, I had every intention of marching in and giving him an earful. He knew secrets about Ethan’s death and hadn’t returned any of my calls. I just got a letter that gave me the ‘fuck off’ sentiments from my parents. I had no intention of taking another one from Jesse. I was primed and ready to tell him how it would be since I was going to be attending the same university.

All of that vanished when I saw the naked chick. A whole different form of rage had balled in my stomach, but it shriveled up. I swallowed it down and bit my lip as I contemplated how many other forms of apology I could utter to Cord.

“Look,” I began, smoothing my hand down my pants. “It’s obvious that I interrupted something special—”

“No, you didn’t.” He stood abruptly.

I froze from the sudden movement, but he left the room and hollered, “Come on.”

Sliding off the couch, I trailed behind him and he led the way into one of the biggest kitchens I would ever see in my life. It was half the size of a banquet hall, but then I had to roll my eyes. Should I have expected otherwise? Zala told me that his father bought this house for Jesse. Of course, it would be grandiose. His dad was a movie producer and a jerk.

Cord opened a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of wine. “You want some?”

I hesitated. Maybe, but I still needed to move into my dorm room.

He flashed me a grin.

My shoulders loosened. There was the cocky son-of-a-bitch Cord Tatum. I reached for one of the glasses that hung from a cupboard and slid it across the counter. “Fill her up.”

He chuckled as he did. Then he topped off his own glass. “Instead of talking about the chickadee that was just here, why don’t we talk about you?” He took up his glass and moved towards the large table that could’ve sat thirty people. He plopped down in a chair and motioned to another. As I sat, he asked, “You were here to see Jesse?”

Oh goodness.

As I sat, I needed to remember who this guy was. He charmed his way into Marissa’s pants—who was I kidding? She charmed her way into his after trying to charm her way into Jesse’s pants. With a scowl on my face, I took a big gulp of the wine. I set the glass back down, roughly, as I scowled at him. “Why’d you sleep with Marissa?”

His eyebrows shot up, but he schooled his face. I had to give him points for that. Not too much shock got through before he contained himself and asked, in a soft murmur, “What do you mean?”

I scoffed, drinking more of my wine. “Don’t act like I’m stupid. I know she was calling Jesse and you took up the cause.” The whole thing settled on the bottom of my gut in a bad way. A pang seared through me. She’d been my friend and she had been hoping to get Jesse while she knew of our history. It hurt. It hurt a lot.

He leaned forward with his arms resting on the table. His tone was gentle, “Look, Marissa was stupid, okay? I don’t know how you two are right now, but take it from me. She was a stupid girl. She was selfish.”

I swallowed over a knot in my throat. It hurt. It hurt so f**king much.

He continued, so soft and gentle, “And if you think Jesse wanted anything to do with her, you’re completely wrong. The dude’s barely looked at another girl since you took up your walking papers and marched last November.”

Relief hit me like a ton of bricks. I sat there, stunned, with my head down. It felt good to hear that. It felt really good to hear that, but he never returned my calls. Why hadn’t he if he cared that much?

“Look.” Cord sighed and stood from the table. He tossed the rest of his wine in the sink, then did the same with mine. “Have you moved into the dorms yet?”

I shook my head.

“And I bet you have a whole car loaded to the top with stuff, huh?”

I nodded this time.

“All right. Mind’s made up. Come on.”

He bent to slip on his shoes, pulled a Grant West University shirt on, and grabbed his keys. He dangled them at me from the door. “You coming or not?”

“What are you doing?”

“I’ll help you move in.”

“You will?” This visit had gone in a different direction than what I intended. “I didn’t come here for that.”

He shrugged, grinning at me. “I know, but Jesse would want me to do this. He’d do it, if he were here.”

I stood and frowned. “Yeah, where is he?”

Barking out a laugh, he shook his head. “Nope. Not going to touch that one.”

Touch that one? I was even more confused as he put his hand between my shoulder blades and urged me out of the house. Following behind me, he locked the door and then asked, “What dorm are you in?”

“Frasier Hall.”

A glimmer of a frown appeared but was gone in a second. “What floor?”

“Sixth.”

His eyebrows shot up now.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Why?”