Page 127 of Rock Me

I look up and he's walking over to me.

The breath catches in my throat. I thought I was very aware of how much I missed him.

Seeing him now, in the flesh, I realize how quickly I'd forgotten how tall he is, how broad his shoulders are, how square his jaw is, how much he takes my breath away.

Jez.

My Jez.

Well, no longer my Jez. Maybe never my Jez.

"Nice car," I say when he's face-to-face with me. Because it's the only thing I can think of, other than begging him to never leave me again.

He grins, almost blinding me with his white teeth. What is going on?

I've dreamt of seeing him again, a hundred, a thousand times. But it was never like this.

It was passionate or dramatic, sweeping declaration or accusations. But not this. Not smiling, happy Jez. Seriously, what the fuck is going on?

"I thought so. Wanna drive it?"

He holds out a keyring to me.

"Come on, give it a little spin. I just bought it."

There's a loud clanging in my ears and my heart thumps and it feels like there's a trampoline in my rib cage.

I can't remember the last time I drove.

And then I remember, or not remember. The last time I drove was the night of the accident.

The night I almost killed Paige, Jez, and myself.

The loud clanging stops in my ears and it's filled with a burning acid, dripping down my throat as I realize he's just here to fuck with me.

"What sort of sick game are you playing, Jez?" I shake my head at him, and for the first time, I hate him.

Hate him for being so cruel.

The grin on his face instantly falls and he frowns.

"No... no. Noémie!" he yells as I spin around, ready to storm back to my house. And never see this asshole again.

I ignore him, but before I can take a step, his hand is on mine, pulling me back.

"Leave me alone, Jez!"

"No, Noémie. I'm not... I'm not playing some game. I'm serious. I came to take a drive with you. Or let you take me for a drive. Please." He pushes the sunglasses up to rest on top of his head.

And his eyes tell me he's saying the truth.

There's no malice there. No cruelty.

Just Jez. Warm, honest, beautiful, passionate Jez.

And I believe him.

“Okay,” I sigh. I reach for the keyring, ignoring the spark that stings my hand when his fingers brush against my palm. "A short drive. Then you can tell me what you're doing here."