Page 6

CHAPTER 6

NOT HIS TYPE

BELLA

July

“What was up with you today?”

Jake slips beneath the covers, his sleepy eyes landing on me. “What do you mean?”

“I thought you liked Meg. Why were you so insistent on her not being Xander’s type?” I take off my tee.

“You really want to have a conversation about another girl when you’re half-naked in front of me?” He smirks, locking his arms behind his head, his gaze never leaving my body.

“Actually, yeah, I do.” I take off my sweatpants and slip into a dark blue satin nightie. Hands on my hips, I stare back at him, though my expression is one of annoyance, not excitement. “Since when is Meg not good enough for a guy like Xander? What’s so special about him?”

Frowning, he drops his hands. “God, you’re no fun.”

“You spent all night clubbing, then spent today bossing me around like I’m your maid?—”

“Why are you so moody? And since when do you have a problem with me hanging out with my friends?” he rasps, conveniently ignoring the second part of my sentence. “You never want to go out, so I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

His brow is furrowed with confusion. My reaction surprised him. Normally, I put up with his bullshit. This time? It’s different, and I don’t know why.

“I have no problem with where you go. Nightclubs, private events, restaurants—whatever. You’re not my property, so I’ll never tell you what to do.” Chest constricting, I work up the nerve to tell him what’s really bothering me. “But I don’t like how you treated me today. It’s like you don’t respect me, like I’m only here to satisfy your needs.”

Unwilling to let him see me cry, I turn and storm to the bathroom. Once the door is closed behind me, I survey my reflection, taking in the tears forming in my eyes. I turn the faucet on and splash icy water across my face. Tears are a weakness, and I refuse to let anyone see me like this. After a few deep, calming breaths, I finger-comb my hair and assess myself in the mirror again. The girl looking back at me is filled with sadness and defeat. Typical .

Growing up, I learned the easiest way to survive was to please those around me. It was the only way to stop my mother’s constant berating. Plus, it felt good when I made people happy, when they were kinder to me.

Respect, though, is a whole other thing, as Jake has proven time and time again.

When I finally collect myself and return to the bedroom, he’s playing on his phone, unbothered.

Without a word, I slip under the covers and turn my back to him. I don’t want to talk to him, and I certainly don’t want him to touch me.

“Isabella.” He turns off the bedside lamp. “What do you want me to say?” Rolling onto his side, he wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me to his chest.

“Nothing. If you don’t think you did anything wrong, I don’t want you to say anything,” I mumble, closing my eyes. I don’t need forced or fake apologies.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think about how my actions and words would affect you.” He nuzzles my neck, going for affectionate.

All I feel is numb. This reaction isn’t new. He acted like this in high school, too, so I shouldn’t be surprised. Men never change. My stepfather is a prime example of that.

“Thank you for saying that,” I whisper, though I don’t believe him for a second.

“Listen, babe, about Meghan. She’s great—beautiful and smart. It’s just…Walker has no interest in anything but casual sex.”

I huff. “Still, what you said about her wasn’t nice.”

“Let me put it this way. Walker will fuck anything that moves, and if she’s hot, it’s a bonus. Do you want your best friend hooking up with a guy like him? I was just trying to protect her.”

“A guy like him?” I wriggle around to face him. “What’s the story there? You said he’s your friend, but you don’t exactly speak highly of him.”

With a long sigh, he runs a hand down my hip. “Xander and I were roommates in college. We both had dreams of going pro, similar beliefs and values, that kind of thing. Honestly, he was like a brother to me.”

“But…? What happened?”

Jake rolls onto his back, not saying a word, his eyes trained on the ceiling. “A girl happened. We wanted the same girl…and she chose me.” He sighs. “We argued, even fought at practice once. Coach said if we wanted to stay on the team, we needed to figure our shit out.”

“What did you do?”

“We talked. I dumped the girl, and Walker and I patched things up. Bros before hoes, as they say,” he chuckles.

A wave of nausea rolls through me at the disgusting phrase.

“For me, at least. Apparently, not for him. A few weeks later, I found out he banged her the day I broke up with her.”

“Then why are you still friends with him?”

“We won the championship that year. It brought us together again. He’s not a bad guy, honestly. We were kids, and he apologized. We’re good.” Finally, he looks at me. There’s a smile on his face.

Something is off, but I can’t pinpoint exactly what. Maybe it’s the way Xander behaved today in the kitchen. Is he going for a repeat performance?

My heart thumps loudly, echoing in my ears. Should I mention Xander was hitting on me? Now that Jake has roped me into decorating his house, it’ll be impossible to avoid him.

I decide to come clean.

“Xander was flirting with me,” I breathe.

Jake’s expression remains passive, and he doesn’t speak.

“Um, he knew I saw him with that girl, and when he came to the kitchen afterward, he was all flirty. Smiling, making suggestive comments?—”

He huffs out a laugh. “It’s in Walker’s nature—he’s a flirt. I’m not even sure he knows he’s doing it most of the time. Plus, you’re not his type.” He drags me on top of him until I’m straddling his hips. “You are a gorgeous brunette. He always goes for blondes. Also, you’re smart, kind, and compassionate—and he likes snobby bitches with no brains.”

“Was that a compliment?” Just a moment ago, he swore his friend would fuck anything that moved.

“Of course.” He slinks his hand up under my nightie, groaning. “Are we done talking about this?” He cups my breast. “I want you.”

Sex . It’s why I’m still here. For years, I’ve used it as a distraction from my worries, to create the illusion that I’m loved, even when I know I’m not. When Jake fucks me, I feel something other than emptiness. But is that really enough to make me stay?

“One second.” I hop off the bed, round the end of it, and put my phone on the charger. When I take a step back, I bump into Jake, who silently snuck up behind me.

He snakes his hands around me, pressing my back against his chest, and an intense shiver runs down my spine.

“It wasn’t nice of you to leave me alone,” he whispers.

“It was just for a couple seconds.” I lean back, resting my head against his shoulder.

“No, it wasn’t.” He glides his hands down my nightie. “You refused to shower with me earlier, so this time was too much.” His shaky breath tells me everything I need to know about how much he wants me.

Turning around, I wrap my arms around his shoulders and give in. If nothing else, at least he’s the best sex I’ve ever had.

* * *

Coffee in one hand, my phone in the other, I scroll through social media. I don’t have any plans for today. When I started working for my cousin, he was reluctant to give me much responsibility, so my days were dull. Frustrated by it, I convinced him to give me a heavier load. Eventually, he started trusting me with more and more tasks, and the more I worked, the clearer it became just how much I love interior design.

One day, I was lying on the couch in my old apartment, staring at the wall, when I realized a big painting would breathe some life into the living room and make the place stand out. I searched for ideas online and browsed stores in hopes of finding the right piece. When I discovered a beautiful painting of La Sagrada Família to hang in the spot, it dawned on me that I’d found something I was good at, like a missing puzzle piece clicked into place. My love for sketching and admiring interiors finally made sense.

My phone buzzes, shaking me out of my thoughts. When I see the DM request and the Instagram handle, my heart stutters in surprise.

Xander:

Hey Bella. What are you up to?

I’m almost certain he’s called me “Isabella” each time we’ve spoken. Now he’s suddenly switched to a nickname very few people use? Why the change?

With my bottom lip caught between my teeth, I stare at my phone and consider ignoring him completely.

Fuck it.

Me:

Hey. Just had a call with my boss. What about you?

Xander:

Miller said you have the day off.

Me:

Has your coach never called you on your day off?

Xander:

Yeah, I guess he has…

Me:

Xander:

Rolling your eyes at me? After I covered for you in front of Miller? Rude.

Me:

Is there a particular reason you’re messaging me?

Xander:

What if I miss you?

My lungs seize, and I jolt so violently I almost spill my coffee.

Me:

Have a good day.

I put my phone facedown on the table and sip from my mug. This guy is getting on my nerves already, and dammit, I’m stuck working with him.

My ringing phone brings me back to reality, and the unknown number flashing on the screen taunts me. What are the chances it isn’t Xander?

Slim to none, that’s for sure.

I slide my thumb over the screen. “What?” I bark. “I wished you a good day.”

“What if it wasn’t me calling?” Xander’s laughter rumbles in my ear.

“It is you, so I don’t see any point in speculating about what-ifs. What do you want?”

“You agreed to help decorate my place, but you have no idea what my house looks like,” he murmurs, unbothered by my rudeness. “How about you come over?”

“Today?”

“Yeah, preseason starts in a week. After that, my free time will be limited,” he says. “But I’m available today.”

“You’re lucky I have nothing important going on.” I blow out a breath and stand up. “Send me your address.”

“No need for that.”

A knock at the front door startles me, making me jump.

With a growl of frustration, I stomp to the door and throw it open. On the other side, Xander stands dressed in a white T-shirt, light blue jeans, and white sneakers, a Cheshire grin on his face and his phone still pressed to his ear.

“I thought it’d be better to pick you up myself.”