Page 24

Chapter 24

Mikey

I helped Jessie into the bar’s all-gender bathroom.

“Are you gonna be a peeping Tommy?” she slurred.

I chuckled. “I won’t look. You just seemed like you’d need help. You’re a little wobbly.”

“I’m fine,” she said, yanking her jeans down without unbuttoning them first. I averted my gaze. When she was done peeing, I didn’t hear any movement.

“You sure, Sweet Cheeks?”

Jessie leaned over her thighs, her head propped up on her fist. She was falling asleep.

“Come on, Jessie Girl. You’ve had a long day. I’ll take you home.”

“Huh?” she snapped awake, still in a daze.

“It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you.” I knelt in front of her, pulling her jeans up to her knees.

“Benny, what are we doing?”

“We’re getting you ready to go home.”

She grabbed my wrist, swaying on the toilet. “No, but what are we doing?”

I looked up into her eyes, and though they were drunk girl eyes, they were also quiet and pleading. She knew what she meant, and I did, too.

“You really kissed me out there,” she went on.

All the air left me, the room a vacuum of oxygen. “You... really kissed me first?”

We sat in a stare-off, and I thought she might kiss me again, sitting on the toilet with her pants down. “I’m really drunk, Ben.”

“I know, honey. I’m trying to get you home. Can you stand up for me?” She held my shoulders as I pulled up her underwear and pants, taking care not to look at things I wasn’t supposed to see. “Why didn’t you have to unbutton your pants?”

“I’m losing weight,” she sighed, putting a celebratory fist in the air. “Yay.”

“You haven’t been eating,” I stated.

“Getting brutally dumped’ll do that to ya.”

“You need to eat, Jess.”

“I guess you’re right. I can’t afford a new wardrobe.”

We were headed for the sink so she could wash her hands, but I turned her to me. Her eyes struggled to focus on me. “Uh-uh. Don’t do that. You don’t need to lose weight. You need to eat because you need to take care of yourself. And if you won’t do it, I will.”

She gave a lazy blink. “You’re not the boss of me, Ben Miknevicius.”

I blew out a breath. “Got that right.”

* * *

Jessie fell asleep on the way home. I was a little afraid she’d puke in my car, so I had a bag at the ready. Fortunately, that didn’t happen.

I was going to have some choice words for Kitty Gatto. I told her to get Jessie loose, not to get her completely hammered.

In the parking garage, I rubbed her arm to wake her. “We’re home, baby. You ready to go to bed?”

She mumbled something. I went around to her side of the car and opened her door, unbuckling her seatbelt and helping her out. She stumbled into me. “This is so embarrassing.”

“Nah. It’s just me. I told you to cut loose tonight.”

In the elevator, she leaned against the wall, resting her head back while she gripped the handrail.

“Did you and Kitty have fun at least?”

“Yeah, and I had fun with you,” she said with a little smirk. I reached for her hand and squeezed it.

“Me too.”

She closed her eyes and slumped into me with her mouth tipped up, and I realized she was fishing for a kiss. It was just the two of us. No pretense for other people. And she was drunk. But it was what she wanted when she was drunk? But it felt gross, like I’d be taking advantage of her. I wanted her all the time. She just wanted me when she was drunk. All I wanted was her, really wanting me, no faking.

I wanted those lips, wanted that kiss so bad, but I couldn’t do it. I had to let her down easy.

I took her chin in my hand and traced her lips with my thumb, admiring the curve of her cupid’s bow. I had kissed those lips before. As bad as I wanted to kiss her again, this wasn’t the time. So I said, “Hi, beautiful.”

She giggled, grinning up at me like a fool. “I think you’re pretty, too, Benny.”

She was so, so drunk and also so, so very cute. “Mikey, Ben, Jockey, and Benny? These are really adding up, Sweet Cheeks.”

“I think it’s cute that your mama calls you Benny,” she said.

“What’s your mama call you, Jessie Girl?” She was pressed into me, all her weight leaning on me, looking up at me with her eyes barely open and a blissed-out grin on her face.

“What do you wanna know about my mama, Jockey?”

The elevator dinged at our floor. “Come on. Let’s get your sloppy ass to bed.”

In the kitchen, she opened every cabinet. “Do you have any tuna? I’m hungry.”

I laughed at her. “Who wants tuna when they’re drunk?”

She got a snarky look on her face and put on a mocking voice. “Cole,” she dragged out his name with a sneer, “never let me eat tuna because he said it stank. But I love a tuna salad sandwich. With the toasted bread, Ben? Mmm, a delicacy.”

I couldn’t stop smiling at her. Who used the word “delicacy” when they were as drunk as she was?

“Whatever, I’ll just go to bed in this snack-free hell.” She ambled toward her room. I dove in to stop her from opening the door.

“Not your room tonight. Come on. You’re with me tonight,” I whispered, redirecting her to my room.

In the bedroom, she shoved her pants down, her bare butt exposed. She shook her butt, looking over her shoulder at me. I cursed whoever invented the thong, making it possible for my fake girlfriend to be both covered up and so naked at the same damn time. I walked around to her front so I wasn’t ungentlemanly.

“Didn’t you say you could satisfy me, Ben?” Her voice was deep and velvety.

I laughed it off. “Not right now, Sweet Cheeks. You need to sleep it off.”

“You know what would help put me to sleep, don’t you?” She looked at me from under her lashes. I swallowed, heat flashing over my body. Of course, I wanted to tear into her. I wanted all of her. And if it had been any other girl I didn’t care about, I’d have done what she asked. Well, not if they were as drunk as she was. Not exactly consenting territory.

But either way, I knew it wasn’t right with Jessie that night. It could fucking crush me if she decided it was all a bad idea the next day—if she even remembered it the next day. My body fucking ached for her. But I couldn’t settle for scraps of her. I needed all of her, or nothing.

For once, I took the smart route. “Not tonight, hon.”

“Why not? You scared?” she drawled, tugging at the hem of her shirt and dragging it up her body with a little smirk.

“You don’t do casual, babe.”

“I could with you.” She did a little dance with the bottom of her shirt almost over her boobs.

“What if I don’t want that?” I asked.

Heartbreak fell over her face. Oh my God, she thought I meant I didn’t want her when every spare fucking thought was about her. “Jessie—”

“Oh. Yeah. I guess I’m probably not your type.”

“That’s not what I meant. You’re fucking gorgeous.”

“But you don’t want me.”

“That’s not what I said—”

She was stuck with her shirt over her head, stumbling around. She fell, folding in half over my arm. That’s when I saw the scar on her lower back. It looked like a fern had been burned into her skin.

“Jessie.”

“What?” she snapped. “I get it if you’re not fucking me, but are you going to help me or not?”

I blew past that, tracing my finger over her scar. “Who did this to you?”

She gasped and straightened, wobbling as she bolted upright and pulled her shirt back down. “No one.”

“Jessie, I need to know who did that to you.” Rage burned inside me, not with her, but with whoever did that awful thing that left a mark on her beautiful body.

“No one!”

“Did Cole do that?” I was getting angry. Why was she hiding it from me? Why was she trying to protect this person?

“No!”

“Then who, Jessalyn? They’d better be in fucking jail.”

She laughed, fully guffawing and snorting.

“This isn’t funny, Jessie.”

“I don’t think you can put Mother Nature in jail, Mikey.”

I shook my head. “What?”

She sat on the edge of the bed and wrestled with her shirt again. “I was struck by lightning.”

I yanked her shirt off once it was over her head. I guess the Princes shirt I got her, though amazing-looking on her tits, was a bit too tight. I’d get her a bigger one. “Seriously, Jessalyn? You survived?”

There she sat, shrunken and slumped forward on my bed, in just her bra and underwear. And her socks, randomly. She was stunning, but she was so sad that I wasn’t focused on how much of her I was seeing. “I survived. My best friend died.”

My mouth fell open as a sob choked her. “Oh, Jessie. That’s terrible. How old were you?”

“Thirteen. At summer camp.” I sat next to her and wrapped her up in a hug. She shrugged me off. “I hardly ever cry about it. I’m usually fine. I usually just try not to show my back.”

“You don’t have to be fine with me, hon,” I said, squeezing her shoulder. “Is this why you have nightmares?”

She nodded, wiping her tears with her hands, then on her legs. “Always storms. I always lose her again. It’s part of why I like living here. Fewer storms.”

She sucked up her tears, but the sadness hadn’t left her. I knew it probably took a lot for her to share that with me. I thought about how she said the most peaceful thing in her life was from summer camp, too. Probably from before she lost her friend.

Poor little girl Jessie.

I went into caretaker mode. I’d been a breakup helper for Kitty in college. I’d helped Jessie with her feelings about Cole. I could be a childhood trauma helper, too, right? This was a thing friends did, right? “Which of your little jammie sets do you wanna wear?”

Her tear-stained eyes met mine. “Can I wear your shirt?”