Page 72 of His Surrender

“I thought you liked when I fucked you.”

“I do. But I also like talking to you. Being around you for more than just a quick bang.”

He was quiet.

“Do you know this is about the longest conversation we’ve had in a week?” I asked, my frustration growing. “What the hell is going on?”

“You’re upset,” he stated in a quiet voice.

“Gee, ya think? What gave it away?”

“Look, you don’t have to be a smart-ass,” he said. “If you don’t want me coming over, just say so.”

“Fine. I don’t want you coming over. Happy?”

God, it was the furthest thing from the truth. I wanted to see him, to be in his arms. But at what price? Each time he screwed me and left right after, another piece of my heart chipped away.

“Noted,” he said in an emotionless tone.

My eyes stung, and I pushed my plate away. I’d lost my appetite. “I don’t understand why you’re acting like this. Did I do something wrong?”

“You’re the one being rude right now, not me.”

“It’s because of what I said that morning, isn’t it?” My voice cracked on the last word. “That’s when you started pulling away from me.”

“What do you mean by pulling away?” Finally, there was emotion in Jay’s voice. Frustration. “I’ve seen you a lot lately.”

“Correction. You’vefuckedme. There’s a difference, Jay. When I text you, you don’t respond. When I try to talk to you or cuddle after sex, you seem like you can’t get away from me fast enough. Do you not understand how that makes me feel?”

I had felt Jay growing closer to me, more than a hookup and definitely more than a friend. I’d felt a spark between us. Chemistry, both in and out of the bedroom. Then he had blocked me out again.

“I told you I’d be busy with work, and you seemed to understand that,” he said. “Why are you being so goddamn clingy? It’s unattractive.”

“Wow. So I’m clingy for wanting to see you?” My scalp prickled as both shock and anger went through me. “I know I’ve called you an asshole in the past, but this is the first time I’ve actually meant it. You’re an asshole, Jay Foley.”

“Are you done?”

“No,” I snapped. “Go fuck yourself. There. Now I’m done.”

“Good to know.”

He hung up on me.

The tears I’d held back finally fell. I wasn’t sad. I was angry. Sadness would probably hit me later that night while I was lying in bed alone, but for the moment, I felt nothing but resentment and bitterness toward Jay.

My gaze landed on my laptop. The New Orleans travel page was still pulled up.

Be spontaneous, I told myself.

Getting out of town and having some distance between me and a certain blond would be nice. Because my heart couldn’t handle it anymore. I needed time away from everything.

So, I went for it. I made a hotel reservation and plugged the address into my GPS to save it for later. I’d be leaving Saturday morning.

Chapter 17

Jay

With a glass of bourbon in one hand and a lit cigar in the other, I sat on my back patio that evening feeling sorry for myself. Which was pathetic because it was my own fault. I selected some indie playlist on my Spotify, and then I drank and drank some more. It didn’t help that nine out of ten songs were about failed relationships and broken hearts.