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CHAPTER SEVEN

FALIN

Since I was old enough to remember, probably shortly after my dad found me and my parents adopted me, I’ve had a hard time expressing my frustrations. An even tougher time calming myself down.

There were many attempts to curb my wild, volatile side during my childhood years, most brought about by my parents not knowing what to do with me. They signed me up for soccer, karate, archery, competitive swim… even a short stint in cheer. I can’t say those were the worst ideas. Physical exertion was always good for clearing the mind. Except cheer… I hated that shit. They realized nothing worked, and after my mom died, he didn’t care anymore.

But when I turned seventeen, I figured out that sex helped. Of course, in our small town, there were only so many people to choose from, so that form of recreation was limited.

Right now, looking at Jasper, all the horny feelings I felt an hour ago morph into a tingling wave of anger. Now that Jake’s gone and I can’t fuck my frustrations away, I’ll need another way to calm down. There’s no way I’ll fool around with Jasper. He had his chance and turned me down. That night together wasn’t even important enough for him to remember the next day. It doesn’t matter that we have insane sexual tension. I care too much about myself to sink that low.

“Why are you scary quiet? And what’s that face you’re making?” His head tilts as he studies me.

There’s only one thing I can do to calm my mind and ease my frustrations.

He follows me like a puppy across the street and down the block until we reach our apartment door. I purposely stay quiet, letting him stew. I hate to admit it, but not all the horny feelings left. His discomfort makes me wet. Knowing he has no idea what I’ll do or say gives me that feeling of control I desperately crave. He feels bad for screwing up my afternoon? Well, I’ll teach him not to interfere with my plans.

* * *

Blake knocks lightly and cracks my bedroom door open while I circle Jasper. I keep my eyes fixed on my work, watching his shoulders tense with each step I take.

“Oh, wow,” she says, drawing out the word. “I—Um, I’m sorry for interrupting.”

“One second, I almost have it right,” I say. “There.” I let my hand fall, almost brushing Jasper’s arm with the scalding hot glue gun, and face her. “What do you think?”

Her eyes widen as they dart between me and Jasper. “You’re crafting.”

“Yes,” I say. “His mask needed some pizazz.”

“What happened? You only craft when you’re ready to commit murder.”

I rummage through the open bin next to me, tossing random bits of ribbon and string onto the floor. A creak from behind makes me turn to find Jasper slowly rolling toward the door. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Nowhere. Just, uh, saying hi to my good buddy Blake.” He lets out a nervous laugh while fidgeting with the ski mask covering his face.

“Good, I have these metal studs somewhere that would be perfect.” My hands shake slightly as I dig deeper, scattering more supplies.

Blake grabs one of the kittens, stopping her from spreading even more rhinestones around the cluttered floor. “Maybe we should get ready for dinner?”

“I’m almost done.” The words snap like a rubber band. My fingers press another rhinestone into place so hard there will definitely be an indent in his forehead.

Deep breaths.

It’s Jasper and his presence. I should have crafted in peace and solitude instead of trying to torture him via hot glue gun.

I step back to examine my masterpiece and freeze. There, right in the center of his forehead, a crooked heart made of metal studs catches the light, surrounded by a scattering of broken rhinestones and splattered paint. A snort escapes before I can stop it. I double over, wiping tears from the corner of my eye.

“I swear I didn’t do anything,” Jasper mutters to Blake.

“Falin, sweetie… are you okay?” Blake places a comforting hand on my shoulder and I finally meet her gaze.

“Honestly… no.” I gesture to Jasper’s abomination of a mask covered in metal studs, rhinestones, and white fabric paint. “But this helps.”

“Glad I could be of service?” he says, voice lilting up like it’s a question. “I’m scared to look, but I should probably go put something on these hot glue welts. Blake, you have anything?”

“I think so. Let’s go check the bathroom,” Blake says.

Jasper eyes me tentatively while slowly raising himself from the chair. Am I really that scary that this giant grown man is afraid to get up? I mean, yes, I did threaten his manhood multiple times today. And yes, I scalded him with hot glue. And maybe I kind of, sort of, enjoyed it. But I’m not a monster.

“Go ahead,” I say, plopping on the edge of my bed. He jumps up and leaves the room before I even get the words out. Blake lingers for a moment, nibbling her lower lip. “I’m fine. I promise.”

“Okay. But this,” she waves at the craft explosion, “we’ll discuss later.”

She cradles Mayhem to her chest and backs out of my room slowly, leaving me sitting in a mess of glittery shame.

As I pick up the remains of my meltdown, my mind replays the afternoon at the bar. Jasper stopping me from hooking up with Jake. As frustrated as I am, I didn’t hate the way his voice dripped with dominance. I don’t see that in him often. Not since Blake’s birthday, when he stepped up to Ian. What ever happened to that guy? That night is fuzzy, but I remember how Jasper pressed me up against the side of our Uber, trapping me with his hard body. He wrapped my hair around his fist, tipping my face up to meet his lips.

Holy shit, I’m wet. Wet and thinking of Jasper.

Huffing, I slam the lid on the craft bin and shove it back under my bed. Time to get cleaned up for a night out, away from him.