“What?” I ask angrily through a mouthful of bread. “Here. Take one.” I shove a roll at Hunter, who smiles nervously, taking it and nodding his appreciation.
“I need to use the ladies room,” says Kennedy.
“Go ahead,” I say, still jawing away at the bread.
She clears her throat and bulges her eyes slightly at me. I sigh, setting the bread down on the table and standing. “I’m coming because I have to pee too.”
Hunter gives Patrick a strange look and nods. “We’ll be here,” he says.
I follow Kennedy to the ladies room, which is thankfully empty. We get inside and she turns immediately, putting soft hands on my shoulders. “Hey. What’s going on? Talk to me.”
I can’t meet her eyes, shaking my head. “I’m fine.”
“Can we skip the part where you pretend something’s not going on? I’m your best friend, Makayla. I know when you have to fart before you do.”
I laugh despite the roiling emotions in my chest. “I don’t fart…” I say.
“Yeah, you can tell the world that, but you and I both remember the road trip. Carlos Carnitas was it? Yeah. Enclosed space, poor ventilation--”
I roll my eyes. “I get it. I maybe have had a few indiscretionary moments once or twice in my life. I still don’t see your point.”
“My point is that I know you too well.” She lowers her voice in her best Jack Carpenter impression. “You can’t hide from me, bitch.”
I laugh, sucking in a deep breath. “Okay, I’m not as over Jesse as I claimed to be. Happy?”
“That’s all? I figured as much when you wore this,” she says, looking down and prodding some of my scandalously exposed cleavage.
I slap her hand away, grinning. “Hey!” I laugh.
“Good. I knew a fart joke and some light fondling would cheer you up.”
“Yeah,” I say sarcastically. “That’s exactly what I needed.”
“Seriously though. I think maybe you need to just tell Jesse how you feel. Tell him he has had too many chances and it’s over. And then give him my number.”
I glare at her.
“Okay. Too soon. You’re right. Juuust kidding,” she clears her throat. “Mostly.”
“The reason I’m so pissed is that I want to give him another chance. I know I shouldn’t. I’ve let myself fall for him twice now, and both times he has cut me loose without so much as a goodbye. Why should I think the third time would be any different, or even the fifth?”
Kennedy leans back against the sink, chewing her thumbnail and looking down. “Well, what if you’re not seeing the whole picture?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, just think of the way he looks at you. He’s completely obsessed still. I would kill for a guy to look at me like that, like he’d move a fucking mountain just to make me happy. Why would a guy who feels like that break things off with you?”
“Because he thinks he’s protecting me…” The words come out of me slowly and I realize with every syllable how true they are. Of course he is. He has always protected me. Why would now be any different? “I need to talk to him.” I turn to leave without a backward glance.
“Good talk!” yells Kennedy after me.
I’m surprised by how much the dining room has filled since I stepped into the bathroom with Kennedy. I scan the room as I slowly move back to the table where Hunter and Patrick are laughing over something. Hunter notices me and watches me approach hungrily. Seeing his eyes fall down my neckline makes me want to cover up and slap him at the same time.
I’m forced to sit back down in my seat in front of the crumbs left by the poor bread roll I was taking my anger out on. I don’t see Jesse anywhere. I realize Hunter is looking at me expectantly, waiting for a response. Did he say something?
I smile, nodding, hoping he doesn’t realize I have no idea what he said. He’s talking again, but I immediately lose focus when I see who just walked into the dining room.
Becca Fawnette. I’ve never been the fan-girl type, especially since I’ve seen first-hand how obnoxious it can be to be on the receiving end of obsessed fans, but Becca Fawnette? I feel my heart thudding in my chest. Not only is she probably the most beautiful woman alive, she’s also one of the most talented actresses I’ve ever seen. She sashays into the room, hips smoothly rocking with each movement of her long, toned legs. She just looks like a movie star. Her hair is done in classic golden ringlets, bobbing energetically around her heart-shaped face.
And just a few steps behind her is a man who commands just as much attention, though no one has ever seen him on a movie or TV screen. Jesse Slade.
He looms behind her, practically dripping with danger and sexuality as he stalks through the room, intense eyes taking in every last detail and likely committing it to memory. Becca turns to him and places her perfect fingers on his shoulder and leans close to his chest, having to tilt her head up to whisper something to him. I see Jesse’s lips move in response and she throws her head back, laughing and letting her fucking hand slide down his chest like it’s accidental.
I’m not much of a puncher, but I’m suddenly ready to throw down with my childhood idol. I bet that lipstick wouldn’t look so flawless with a fistprint in the middle of it… I take a deep breath and laugh at myself a little, realizing how ridiculous I’m being. Becca is just a toucher. She’s touching everybody she passes, caressing forearms and shoulders, air-kissing cheeks, and flashing those perfectly white teeth to anyone who looks her way.
But Jesse is protecting her now. I convinced myself the only reason he would leave was to protect me, but I somehow forgot the other obvious possibility. He can’t keep his dick in his pants and he left because he got bored. He still looks at me like he wants me because he’s a player, not because he wants to keep me safe. I’m an idiot for not seeing it sooner.
With difficulty, I tear my gaze away from the two of them and look to Hunter, who I realize has been watching Becca and still watches her even when I clear my throat. He finally realizes I’m looking at him, jumping a little and smiling.
“So,” he says quickly. “Do we order or is this one of those things where they just bring something out?”
Kennedy returns to the table, giving me a curious look. “You take what they give you,” she says distractedly.
She and I have a silent exchange via eye contact. Judging by her bulged eyes and twitchy head movements, she wants me to go talk to him, and I try my best to signal back with pursed lips and lowered eyebrows that it’s not happening. Patrick and Hunter watch both of us, probably just beginning to regret their chosen dates when I finally stand, unable to take Kennedy’s prodding anymore.
Fine. I’ll go talk to the big idiot.
39
Jesse