I guess the things that matter to us don’t matter to everyone. And just as I’m ready to be done with this town and these people, he’s long past that point.
But a contrite and guilty part of me knows there’s probably one big reason he isn’t here. And I’ll beat myself up over the fact I played a part in taking this defining moment from him. For ruining what must have been a hard twelve years for him.
But I’ll have to feel guilty later, cause I’ve waited too long to let anything sour this success.
Try as I might, the gnawing pit in my gut doesn’t go away as my name iscalled and I cross the stage. I take my diploma in its shiny case, shake the principal’s hand, and switch the tassel on my hat to the opposite side. What an anticlimactic, ceremonious end to this chapter of my life.
Chapter Thirteen
Mara-Present
Twister-Delta Rae
Oh my god.
That’s my first thought when I wake up. I don’t have any other words to describe how I’m feeling about last night. What does it mean? Is that going to be a regular encounter? Does Jason want me? The spitfire in his eyes tells me he does but he doesn’t want to want me. He hates me but he craves me. The way he touched me…the way he made me come harder than even I can make myself come.
The way he demanded what he wanted from me without a single word after driving me to combustion. I shouldn’t have liked being so degraded but…I think I did. I’ve only been with beta males, weak men who hardly contribute to sexual interactions. They never had the same passion Jason showed last night. He just took what he wanted.
I’ve come to realize passion is not only a romantic thing. There’s passion in romance, passion in anger, passion in achieving a goal.
Passion is a powerful motivator.
The clock beside the bed says it’s 6:30 am. Which means Jason is already awake and working out in the garage. I shouldn’t feel like I need to avoid him but I do. How do I even interact with him now? He didn’t kiss me last night so I’m assuming it’s just casual. Just sex. But we also only did oral stuff. I don’t know. I guess I’ll just take his lead.
I fling the covers off me and walk to the closet to get dressed. I pull on one of the leggings that were left here by some skank who slept with Jason, and one of his flannels. No bra. Buttoned just high enough to cover my boobs. I’ve noticed the way he eyes his clothes on me. Before, I wasn’t sure if he was upset about it or turned on. Now, I’m starting to think it’s both.
After brushing my teeth and tying my hair into a single braid over my shoulder, I head downstairs. Just as I’m pouring myself a cup of coffee, Jason comes back inside from the garage glistening in a sheen of sweat that coats his bare chest, broad shoulders, and muscular arms.
God, why does he have to be so hot? It’s like the revenge body concept. He was made fun of in high school so he got hotter after graduation to get back at everyone who ever teased him. From what it sounds like, several women changed their opinions about him after seeing the weapon he was concealing in his pants.
He doesn’t even hesitate when he sees me, he lets his eyes roam over my clothed body as he passes me to pour himself another cup of coffee. The only sign that anything happened between us is the way his eyes darkened for a second, like the shadow of the memory passed over him. He’s equally insufferable and attractive. I don’t know whether to shun him or beg for more.
“Not going to acknowledge it?” I ask nonchalantly, or at least trying to sound like I don’t care.
Jason doesn’t even look at me. He pulls the carton of eggs out of the fridge and slides them across the clean counter top to land in front of me.
Message received.
Prick.
The only reason I even bother to make eggs is because I’m hungry. Not because he told me to.
“You could be a little nicer,” I remind him. I don’t exactly know how he feels. Does he like me? Does he hate me? Was that a hate fuck or something?
Again, not an actual fuck. But he doesn’t have to be so curt with me.
Jason’s only response is his usual eye roll that feels more like a challenge than a snarky reply.
“I’m starting to think eye rolls are your main form of communication.” Although his coffee cup is in the way, I catch the way his cheeks dimple a bit as the corners of his mouth turn up. Finally, a smile. I knew he had a sense of humor somewhere beneath all that apathy and muscle.
Heavy footfalls on the stairs alert us to Dylan’s presence before he’s even visible. As soon as he lands on the main level, he rubs his eyes and groans.
“Ugh, I slept horrible.” He announces before pouring himself the last of the coffee and stirring in the milk. “I knew you guys would fuck eventually but do you think you could keep it down next time?”
Choking. I’m choking on my coffee and trying to cough it out of my burning lungs. Apparently I forget how to drink coffee and swallow properly when I’m startled. That’s the last thing I expected him to say and the last thing I want to talk about with him.
“What? We—I—you must have—nothing happened.”Real smooth, Mara.
