Now or Never Page 6

  She didn’t stop. Her hand traveled south and a deep groan bubbled up from somewhere deep inside. Fuck. The whole building seem to whirl in a dizzying spiral as though it had been picked up and tossed around by an unexpected tornado. Sahara smiled and it made Jay sick. Wrong. This was all wrong. This wasn’t what he wanted. Besides the fact that it seemed to be exactly what his body was craving, his heart and soul belonged to someone else.

  Her hand gripped him hard through his suddenly too tight jeans at the same moment her tongue snaked into his mouth.

  “Shit.” Jay hissed, his head flying back to collide with the wall behind him at the very moment a quiet gasp filled the hallway.

  Chapter Twelve

  Em

  Em stood at the end of the hall desperately trying to recall when and where she’d fallen asleep because surely this must be a nightmare. Jay was pressed up against the wall with Sahara practically melded to his body. And he was kissing her.

  “Em!” Jay shoved Sahara away. “It’s not what it looked like.”

  “Oh, really? That’s good because it looked like you were kissing that tramp. Is that not right? Please, tell me how that wasn’t exactly what it looked like.” She shocked herself with the vehemence she possessed, but she’d never felt so hurt in her entire life as she did in that moment and she lashed out like an injured animal.

  “Em . . . I didn’t . . . I’d never . . .” Em stood there, waiting patiently as he stumbled through the English language. “I didn’t mean to.”

  “Kiss her?”

  Jay nodded miserably as Em started the tiny rocking motion he knew she used to sooth herself when she was really upset. Of all the things that had happened recently . . . “I’m not sure how you could call that an accident.”

  Tears clogged her throat and she knew there couldn’t be any more said without causing an even bigger scene. As the case was, they’d already managed to bring the party to a screeching halt.

  The music continued to play, but conversations had cut short. Everyone stood around awkwardly aware of the sudden drama unfolding. A few gawked openly like they were watching some kind of reality TV, while others made a valiant effort not to stare. Mason sat on a barstool, drink clenched in his hand, making no such effort.

  His eyes flicked between her and Jay as she made her way across the restaurant toward Ashlyn who already stood near the door with her car keys in hand. They held concern and a fair amount of anger, but the one thing she didn’t see—the thing that surprised her—was not an ounce of satisfaction. Mason took no enjoyment from what had just happened.

  “Come on. Let’s get out of here.” With a scathing glare over her shoulder, Ashlyn ushered Em outside and across the icy lot.

  Snow began falling like tiny white crystals, sparkling in the glow of the streetlights as the car puttered to life. Em didn’t know where they were going and she honestly didn’t care. She just needed to be away from there. From Jay. And that hurt almost more than anything.

  “He was drunk, Em.” Em shot a glance at her friend who frowned back at her. “I know it’s not an excuse. It’s just . . . You know Sahara. That girl can pounce on unsuspecting prey like a damn cheetah.”

  That was true. And she knew Jay, too. But the fact remained . . . “He wasn’t exactly fighting for his life back there.”

  Jay had looked like he was practically in the throes of ecstasy when she’d found them. She’d never seen him like that before. Never been able to give him that.

  “No. True. But he’s a guy. They sort of have this of switch that gets thrown at a certain point when—”

  “I wouldn’t know.” Em hadn’t meant to let it slip, but it was all she could think. She’d done this. Practically hand fed him to Sahara. She couldn’t give him what he needed. She may never be able to. Could she really blame him for wanting it where he could get it?

  The tears finally found the release they’d been denied earlier.

  “Oh, Em, I didn’t mean—” Ash’s attention flickered between the hazardous road and her friend having a meltdown in the passenger seat.

  “I know. But it’s true. He’s been so patient. How can I really expect—?”

  “He was dunk, Em. The wolves descended and he couldn’t beat them back. End of story. It’s got nothing to do with you.” Ashlyn threw the car in park and Em blinked up at the small white farmhouse cloaked in shadows.

  “What are we doing here?”

  “You’re staying with me tonight, and I bet Jay shows up at work on his knees with a dozen roses tomorrow, and everything will go back to normal.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jay

  Heaviness weighed down the empty hole in his chest cavity, and Jay staggered under the burden of it. What had he done? Christ, what had he done? Shock burnt off some of the drunken, lust-filled haze engulfing him, and the look in Em’s eyes flashed through his mind. The pain. The betrayal. He’d put that look there. What the hell was he thinking? Obviously, not with his head. Not the right one, anyway.

  How would she ever forgive him for this? Then another thought blindsided him. Did he want her to?

  Jay stumbled his way across the restaurant toward the doors under the stares of prying eyes. They could all go to hell. He needed air. Needed to get the hell out of there.

  “Jay, baby, where are you—?” Sahara’s hand wrapped around his arm and it took all of the self-control he still possessed not to toss her across the room.

  “Don’t. Touch. Me.” Even Sahara wasn’t dumb enough not to heed the warning in his deep growl and she took a step back.

  The sting of frigid air cut straight through the worn material of his second-hand pullover when he pushed his way outside, but there wasn’t a chance he was going back for his coat. He didn’t care. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Ashlyn’s car was already gone. Em was gone. And he needed to be gone. Somewhere he could get his head together.

  The damn keys seemed to have doubled in size as Jay attempted to wrestle them from his pants pocket.

  “Shit!” He slipped on the ice as they broke free and nearly landed on his ass. Clinging to the door handle of his truck with a white knuckled grip, Jay struggled to unlock it, a little more unsteady on his feet than the ice alone warranted.

  In a desperate attempt to stabilize some of the spinning, he dropped his forehead against the stunningly cold metal, and breathed deeply. She’d come back. She’d forgive him. She’d understand. Of course she would, she was Em. But that nagging thought of should she poked at his brain like a hot needle.

  She was gone. She was free of all his bullshit. Did he really want to drag her back into it?

  The keys had definitely grown in size because now they refused to fit in the lock. Jay stabbed at the damn thing, silently cursing up a storm until an arm reached over his shoulder, plucking the keys from his frozen fingers.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

  “You’re the dumbest ass on the face of the earth if you think you’re getting behind the wheel of that truck right now.”

  Mason was right. Jay was definitely not in any condition to drive, but he couldn’t find it in him to give a rat’s ass if he crashed and burned. He felt like he already had. It was the sluggish thought of everyone else out on the road that resigned him to follow Mason to his car and slump inside.

  Mason pulled out onto the road and started driving without direction from Jay. Of course not. Mr. Helpful had driven Em home. He already knew where they lived. Mason cleared his throat and Jay inwardly groaned. Here it came. Obviously a silent ride home to a bottle of aspirin and a bed so he could think straight was too much to hope for.

  “I’m going to be straight with you, Jay. I like Em. A lot. I’d even go as far as to say I care about her.” Jay glared at Mason’s profile as he concentrated on the increasingly hazardous road. If this asshat thought now was the time to make his move . . . “But she cares about you.” Mason spared him a glance as they pulled up to a red light. “Don’t be an idiot
. I won’t let you hurt her.”

  Jay wanted to argue that he would never hurt Em, but he’d done exactly that. And it wasn’t the first time. And it wouldn’t be the last. He would keep hurting her because that was what he did. He hurt the people he cared about. Maybe not exactly like his father, but it was a trait they shared. The one’s he loved the most always seemed to pay the highest price, and the longer Em stuck around—the longer he allowed her to stick around—the more likely he was to cause serious damage.

  Em was damaged enough already. She was strong, and brave, and beautiful . . . and damaged. There was no denying that. All he wanted in life was to heal her. Chase her demons away. Not become one of them.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Em

  Em knew that what had happened the night before held the potential to destroy some relationships. Not theirs, though. They’d already been through hell and back. It would take a lot more than a single kiss and some wandering hands to tear her and Jay apart. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt, though. It hurt like hell.

  Em rubbed the ache in her chest, but found no comfort. They needed to talk. Ashlyn was right. She knew Jay well enough to know he’d beg her forgiveness—that he must be feeling like crap—and she already knew, without a doubt, that she’d give it. But there was a deeper issue they needed to discuss. One that scared the hell out of her.

  Jay would never intentionally hurt her. But if things had changed—if he could no longer live with her . . . insecurities, she needed to know. She couldn’t blame him. Her issues were exactly that, hers, and a lot to deal with. If she wanted this to work, she needed to find a way to get past them—to stop being such a coward—before something happened they’d both regret.

  That was a little hard to do with Tom standing behind the bar, though.

  “I thought yesterday was your last day?”

  “It was. Jay called in a favor this morning. Guess he was hung over.” The sympathy in Tom’s eyes made it clear he didn’t believe that any more than she did. He knew exactly why he was covering Jay’s shift.

  “Sure. Right. Well, thanks.”

  “Where is he?” Ashlyn passed Em an apron and started rooting around the drawers for a couple of order pads.

  “Hung over.”

  Ash glanced at her before resuming the hunt. Yeah, no one was buying that. “He’s probably embarrassed. He did make an ass of himself last night. Maybe he wants a chance to talk to you in private first. We could swing by there after work and—”

  “No.” If Jay wasn’t ready to face her, she wouldn’t force him. “Not yet.”

  “Good call. Have some self-respect. Make him come crawling back,” Ash declared enthusiastically, tossing a pad across the ticket counter.

  “Ash . . .”

  “Oh, come on. Even if you don’t want to see it, I do. You know I need my daily dose of drama.”

  No wonder Ashlyn stuck around. Drama seemed to be the one thing Em could always be counted on for. Even when she tried her absolute best to avoid it.

  “Drama?” Mason wandered up behind them, dropping a friendly arm over Ash’s shoulders. “Here that’s been going around.”

  Em groaned. “Can we please talk about anything else?”

  “Sure. How about them . . . Yankees?”

  Ashlyn ducked out from under Mason’s arm with a swat to the back of his head. “Are sports all you people know how to talk about?”

  “Us people?”

  “Men. You foolish, foolish people.”

  “Can’t argue with that.” His gaze darted back to Em, and she felt the weight of his words on her heart.

  “That was subtle.” With an exaggerated eye roll Ash went to restock the tables in her section.

  “Sorry, subtlety really isn’t my thing.”

  “It’s okay.” Em tucked her pad into the pocket of her apron and started loading up on salt and pepper shakers.

  “How are you doing?”

  “Fine.”

  When Mason didn’t respond, she glanced over to find him studying her.

  “I gave Jay a ride home last night.” He gathered up some ketchup bottles and followed her into the bar section to set the tables. “He was pretty messed up. I’m sure—”

  “I’m fine, Mason. Thank you for driving him home. I just need to find a chance to talk to him and everything will be fine.”

  “I hope so.” He sounded like he genuinely meant that. “If you need anything . . .”

  “Thanks, Mas. You’d better set your own tables before Bart has a conniption fit, though.”

  “Wouldn’t want to give the skeezy old man a stroke. Then, where would we be?” With a wink he slipped back behind the counter to gather more supplies.

  The one day she would have given anything for a distraction, Bart’s was practically a graveyard. A few regulars trickled in around lunch time, and what could possibly have been a Bridge Club stopped by in the late afternoon for the early bird special. By four o’clock, Bart sent Ashlyn and two others home early.

  “Gee, wonder why I got sent home and not you.” Ash winked at Em, pulling off her apron and draping it over one of the hooks behind the ticket counter.

  “Ugh. Shut up.” Em could handle whatever it was Bart did behind that closed door while she worked out front as long as she didn’t think about it. At. All. He stayed away from her, kept his hands to himself—mostly—barely even spoke to her, and that was the best she could hope for. Job security of the sketchiest kind, but she’d take what she could get.

  “I can give you a lift home later.” Mason hopped up on the counter, poking Em’s leg with his toe.

  “Aren’t you coming back to my place?” Ash almost looked . . . disappointed?

  “If that’s all right.” Em wasn’t prepared to force a conversation Jay obviously wasn’t ready to have yet. And, if she was being honest with herself, she wasn’t any more eager to broach the subject than he was. Coward.

  “Of course. As long as you need. It’ll be fun to have a roomie.” Ashlyn scanned the room and found Grayson dropping off his last round of dishes. “I’ll get a lift home. You can use my car.”

  Em nearly fumbled the keys when they came soaring in her direction, unexpectedly. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. Hey, Grayson . . .” Ashlyn wandered off toward the star struck busboy—she tended to have that effect on guys—and Em knew she wouldn’t have a problem finding a ride anywhere she wanted to go.

  ***

  Ashlyn’s car wasn’t the best looking thing in the lot. And at a joint like Bart’s that was really saying something. It said even more that the lot was almost empty.

  “Good night, Em!” Mason and Tom both headed for their cars while Em hauled the trash around back.

  She gave a quick wave and rushed to complete her task. It wasn’t a dangerous area, but hanging out around dumpsters in the dead of night all alone just brought back too many bad memories. Headlights blinded her briefly as she rounded the building and made her way toward the rusted old Pontiac.

  Em couldn’t have cared less that the door stuck, or the heat didn’t really work. It didn’t matter that the color was almost indecipherable under all the rust, or that it tended to stall if you sat at a red light too long. All that mattered was that it had four wheels and got her from point A to point B. Except . . . when it didn’t.

  Em turned over the engine and, after a solid effort by the old boy, it fell silent. She tried again and only got a few clicks that sounded more like death rattles, and then nothing at all. Em kept turning that key like something might magically change, but it didn’t. She was stuck. In an empty parking lot, outside a closed restaurant, in the middle of the night. Perfect. What the hell was she supposed to do now?

  Dropping her head back against the seat, Em closed her eyes and groaned. It had been one long, frustrating, exhausting day. Even a two mile walk to Ash’s was going to suck big time in the frigid cold. With a resigned sigh, she checked the car for any spare clothing she could pull on to help keep
her warm and, of course, came up empty handed. Definitely going to suck.

  Climbing out into the cold, Em slammed the door and gave it a kick just for good measure. Stupid car. Stupid job. Stupid life. Stupid—

  “What did she ever do to you?”

  Em jumped a solid foot in the air as a scream squeezed out around her heart which had firmly lodged itself in her throat. Spinning around, she stumbled back against the car and found Mason backing away with his hands in the air.

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” His apology would have gone a whole lot further if he wasn’t clearly fighting back laughter.

  “It’s not funny! You scared the crap out of me!” Em grabbed her chest in an attempt to coax her heart back to where it belonged.

  “I’m sorry. Really. I thought you heard me coming.”

  No. She’d been too busy mentally cursing her luck. “I thought you left?”

  “I did. Forgot my phone, though. I was hoping Bart was still inside, but I guess not.”

  “Guess you’ll have to wait til tomorrow.”

  “Guess so. Car troubles?” He nodded at the hunk of junk sitting in the spot just mocking her. “Or was it personal between you and her?”