Her silky black hair falls over her shoulders. Red and black tattoos start from her fingertips then up to the Marigold tattoos on her collarbone which are my personal favorites. When I asked her about them, she talked about their callback to her Mexican heritage, and I think that might have been our first conversation where she didn’t completely blow me off.
As the night comes to an end, I keep one eye on Jensen as she talks to Lucie and Dex in the living room as I help Callie clean up the poker chips.
“She’s going to knock you on your ass, Beck,” Callie says under her breath.
I snort a laugh. “I can’t wait. Think it’ll bruise?”
“Gross.” Callie tosses a chip at me. “She’s about to leave, so hurry up and help me so you can follow her out like the lovesick puppy you are.”
Eh, here we go.
Outright saying “I just want to fuck her” will likely earn me a slap from Callie, and I wouldn’t blame her…but there’s more to it than that. I may play the field in baseball, but I’m picky as hell when it comes to sleeping with someone. So damn picky that I haven’t even entertained the idea of anyone except Jensen since the moment I laid eyes on her. Not to mention, the ones before Jensen were very few and way far between.
Unless it was abundantly clear it wasn’t going to turn into anything more than a one-night stand—it wasn’t happening. The smallest hint—I mean the tiniest gut feeling—that the other person’s thinkingmaybe I could change his mind—nope, not happening.
I don’t entertain the reasons for being so hung up on Jensen. Could be that she seems to hate our palpable chemistry, and what better match-up than with someone who doesn’t want anything to do with me other than getting some orgasms out of it?
Maybe it’s once and out of our system… Maybe it’s friends with benefits… Maybe it’s just chemistry that will die out on its own and we’ll still be left with this friend dynamic.
“At the risk of sounding like a complete asshat, I’m going to trust you love me enough to know what I mean when I say you know that’s not what this is.” I have my reasons and they’re mine alone. I love Callie like a sister, but this just isn’t something I can tell her, or anyone else for that matter.
Callie hums and her lips form a thin line. She does that every time she’s dying to say something but chooses not to.
“Spit it out.You know you wanna.”
Callie shakes her head. “No, I have nothing to say.”
I snort.Yeah fucking right.“Well, that would be a first.”
She sends me a smart-mouthed grin. “Watch it, or I’ll only submit shit photos of you for the rest of the week.”
I let out a low whistle. “The injustice.” I note Will making his way over to us and send Callie a wink. “You know I love you most anyway, Callie Bear.”
Will wraps Callie up in his arms all possessively. “Okay, time’s up. Get out of my house.”
The tug in my chest comes back as Callie rests her head back on his chest. “You’re interrupting our girl talk.”
Will laughs, loosening his hold. “Yeah, well, Jensen just walked out, so who am I really doing the favor by kicking him out?”
I toss the last of the chips in the lid of the case. “Sorry, Callie Bear, gotta do what the man says.”
“Yeah, yeah, go on.” She waves me off, and I plant a quick kiss to the top of her head to really get under Will’s skin.
Racing down the hall, I grab the elevator just before it closes. As I step in, I see my Jennie all cute and angry.
“Desperate much?” she huffs out.
“Oh, come on, don’t act like you’re not happy to see me. It’s the same look you get when I meet you for our Tuesday runs.”
The joy I felt when I randomly ran into Jensen running with her dog a couple months ago and realized that we both loved a long ass run. I do that route every Tuesday my schedule allows—and the kicker,shestill does too.
We may seem to be polar opposites, but sometimes I think we might have a little more in common than it appears.
Jensen gives me an eye roll. “Oh, my desperate, delusional stalker.”
Ah, the insults and name calling. I turn to face her. “So possessive with your little ‘my.’ If you want me to be yours, Jenni-cakes, all you have to do is ask.”
Jensen chokes on the air as she snorts a laugh. “You’re not mine, Beckham. I’m not yours. Those titles have very little appeal to me.”
