Neither of which he wanted to do alone.
That led to his next problem: Jessa and her insane need to keep her distance. He glanced across the seat, her profile pensive as she stared out the window. Her jaw set in a firm line, making Garrett wonder if she ached like he did. Not that she’d share if she did. She hadn’t shared anything with him these last few days except this incessant ego-mobile. Not a meal, hardly a look, and most definitely not his bed.
All business.
It was pissing him off. As if what they’d done was a dirty little secret she needed to wipe under the carpet, even though he understood the need for secrecy was, for the most part, to protect him.
One more thing for him to feel like shit about.
She’d ended it with him because Amy knew. He chuckled to himself. If he’d told her Tyler also knew, she’d be on the first plane back to New York. He didn’t know which was worse. Having her in his bed knowing it was temporary or not having her there at all.
Either way, Garrett hadn’t been ready to end things between them.
Quite the opposite, in fact.
He wanted more. He wanted to feel her next to him as they slept. He wanted to wake up with her, to sink into her heat and fuck her as the sun came up. He wanted —
“Garrett?”
— things he shouldn’t want.
Jessa’s face was etched with concern. “You okay?”
He stared across the seat at her. “I’d be better if we were in a regular car,” he grumbled, his piss-poor attitude latching on to whatever it could to feed itself. The guys on the team had stopped giving him grief about his luxury mode of transport, but in his present mood it didn’t matter. It irked the shit out of him.
Her eyes narrowed. “What’s up with you?”
“I’m sick of being schlepped around like a fucking movie star.”
Jessa’s lips thinned. “Okay.”
He snorted. “Okay? That’s it?”
She folded her hands in her lap. Her chest expanded as she drew in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Are you looking for a fight, Garrett? Because if you are, I’m not your girl.”
“No,” he snapped. “You’re not my girl.” He regretted the words the minute they’d vomited from his mouth. God, what was wrong with him? Maybe he should add a drink or two to his shower and bed plan.
He let his head fall back against the seat. He wasn’t fit to keep company with a pack of wild dogs right now. Let alone the woman he wanted nothing more than to seduce.
Jessa turned to stare out the window. “I’m sorry you’ve had a hard day,” she murmured.
Garrett clamped his lips shut, not responding for fear of saying something else he’d be sorry for.
Silence hung heavy for the rest of the ride to the hotel.
When they arrived, Garrett motioned for Jessa to exit before he followed her onto the sidewalk. They stood, facing each other in awkward silence, and Garrett felt a fist wrap around his heart.
She cleared her throat. “I guess I’ll see you later. I’m going up.”
He wanted to pull her into his arms and smooth away the sadness that shone in her eyes. Before he did something stupid, he jammed his hands into his pockets.
“Night, Jess,” he said as she turned and disappeared into the hotel.
In the past, Garrett would limit the amount of alcohol he consumed during training, but tonight called for a revised schedule. He didn’t have to report tomorrow — thank God — so tonight, he planned to get as drunk as possible.
To that end, he went to his room and made a beeline for his not-so-mini-bar. He bypassed the heavy stuff and grabbed a beer, popping the top and pouring it down his throat as fast as he could swallow. The cool liquid soothed his throat, but did nothing for his tired, aching body.
There was only one thing that would help him with that.