“So, uh…good night.” His eyes widen like he’s forgotten something, and he darts back over.
My heart hums as he looms over me, warm hand sliding along my jaw, fingers tangling in my hair as he cups my face and tips it up. His lips cover mine in a slow, heated kiss that lights a fire deep in my belly, and I fist the collar of his shirt, wanting to keep him close.
“Good night,” Garrett says again when he pulls away, then drops his lips to mine once more. “Night.” He jogs back to the door, waving at me over his shoulder. “Bye.” He pulls the door open and looks back at me, eyes sweeping over me, bright like the smile he hits me with when our gazes finally lock.
“Have a good sleep, Jennie,” he whispers, and then, for real this time, he leaves, footsteps thudding down the stairs, the front door closing behind him, the beep that tells me he’s locked up for the night.
I fall back against the mountain of pillows behind me, clapping a hand to my sweaty forehead.
Fuck me. Indiana Bones is going to have to step it up.
CHAPTER 10
USAIN BOLT
GARRETT
Jennie’s been ignoring me all week.
Four days ago, I called after her in the lobby. When she saw me, she bolted. Literally ran, across the lobby, out the door, throwing herself in the backseat of the taxi waiting out front, fucky ankle and all.
Two days ago, I knocked on her door. Without opening it, she shouted back in—I think—a horrendous mix of Spanish and English, claiming to be someone named Gloria, because Jennie didn’t live there anymore. I said I knew it was her because I’d seen her get into the elevator. She was silent for an entire thirty seconds before replying, “Me no hablo English.”
I’m frustrated as fuck. Despite the mind-blowing orgasms, I’d thought there’d been a shift in our dynamic, like we were finally becoming friends. She’d stopped being so utterly terrifying to the point that I could speak full sentences to her. If that’s not friendship, I don’t know what is.
Plus, we left on good terms—I kissed her good night—so why is she avoiding me? She’s normally good at talking and yelling and all that; I’m the one who can’t string words together.
Should we repeat the orgasms? Probably not. Would I like to? Abso-fucking-lutely yes. But if she can’t look me in the eye, how will we ever be in the same room together? We need to talk this thing out before it blows up in our faces.
The door next to me opens. I straighten off the wall as Jennie strolls out of her apartment, singing what I’m pretty sure is the soundtrack to Frozen.
She’s wearing skintight plum leggings, highlighting her out-of-this-world ass, a pair of those comfy, warm boots my sisters love, and a baggy hoodie. A toque dangles from the tips of her fingers, headphones slung around her wrist. Casual has never looked better than it does on her.
“Morning, sunshine. Your ankle looks better.”
I wonder if she’ll ever not shriek at me, but know today isn’t the day.
She leaps into the air, dropping her shit to the ground, screaming out a string of curses. “Mother…fucker.” She scoops up her stuff before whacking me in the shoulder. “Was that necessary?”
“Based on the way you’ve been ignoring me for the last week? Absolutely.”
“I’ve been…” She looks around for the rest of her sentence. “Busy.”
Shit, she’s as bad at lying as I am.
“Thought you moved out. What happened to Gloria?”
She folds her guilty smile into her mouth. “Oh, she…just a…friend…sleepover…girl’s night.” She waves a flappy hand through the air. “Pillow fights in our panties and all that.”
“Uh-huh. Listen.” I take a step forward and she plasters herself against the door, terrified. I’m pretty sure I’m the least terrifying person ever, based on the amount of blushing and stuttering like a jackass that occurs when she’s around. But I stop anyway, because we aren’t in the bedroom, which happens to be the only place I like being a little terrifying. “We should talk about what happened last weekend.”
“What happened?” Her voice rockets up an entire octave. “Nothing happened. Did you happen?” She squeezes her eyes shut. “Fuck.”
I like this messy side to her. It makes me feel like I get under her skin as much as she does mine. Makes it less of a lonely place to be.
Maybe that’s why I take another step toward her, then another, until she’s staring up at me with those wide eyes that give way to the innocence I think hides under all her bold.
“C’mon, sunshine. You can’t possibly think I’ve forgotten. The way my name sounded leaving your lips on repeat is burned into my mind, just like the way your mouth opened when you came around my fingers, and again on my tongue.” I trail a finger over her hip before slipping my hand below her hoodie, wrapping my palm around her bare waist. “Would you like a reminder?”
I don’t have a clue what I’m doing right now. And Jennie is, without a doubt, the last person I should be doing it with. I guess I’ve decided—in this moment, anyway—I have no fucks left to give. Not based on the way I drop my lips, letting them hover above her mouth as the tip of my nose skims hers.
Jennie clings to me, chin lifting, plush pink lips reaching for mine. They part on a jagged inhale, cheeks flush under the intensity of my stare, the words I shouldn’t have said.
And then she comes back down to earth, shaking her head and essentially bodychecking me across the hall. She twists back to her door and jams her key in the lock.
Okay, she doesn’t, but she sure tries. She misses, like, twenty times, repeatedly stabbing the door, marking up the white paint.
“I’d love to chat, but I gotta go! Gotta take a shower.” She forces out a laugh that’s teetering on the edge of unhinged. “I stink.”
My eyes go to her hair, piled on top of her head and— “Your hair is wet.”
Never mind that she was leaving her apartment, not coming home. Also, she smells super fresh, with hints of vanilla, cinnamon, and something sweet, like she spent the morning baking Christmas cookies.
I’d like to eat her cookie.
No. No, Garrett. That’s what got us into this whole mess in the first place.
Jennie’s dimples disappear when she realizes she’s been caught in another lie, and she finally gets that damn key in the lock. The door springs open, and she tumbles through it.
“Greasy. Super greasy. My hair. Yeah, I haven’t showered in…days.” Her nose scrunches with disgust at her lie. “So it looks wet, but it’s just…” She circles a hand around her damp bun and sighs, resigned. “Greasy.”
“Jen—”
“Okay-bye-Garrett!” The words fly past her lips with the same speed she slams the door, and the sound of chuckling draws my attention over my shoulder.
Emily leans in her doorway, arms crossed as she grins at me. “Knew it.”
I scrub a hand over my eyes. I’m so fucking tired, and I don’t know what to do with my life anymore. “Knew what?”
“That you two were gonna fuck. You can smell the sexual tension from here.”
“We didn’t—ugh.” I rub the back of my neck. “She seems tense?”
“So tense. Girl wants your dick and hates that she does.”
I chuckle and Emily smiles. This should be weird, but it isn’t. In the years I’ve known Emily, she’s had plenty of boyfriends and girlfriends in between our casual hookups. I’m not worried that Emily caught…whatever the fuck that was. Maybe nothing. Probably nothing.
Or maybe something. Jennie’s impossible to read.
Except last weekend when I ate her pussy like the Last Supper. Pretty hard to misread the signals when she’s yanking on my hair, grinding her pussy against my mouth, and moaning my name as she comes. Twice.
“Things with Jennie are a little…”