The Closer You Come
Page 94He expected her to do a little mathing? Now?
Who cared! “Selfie time! Me and Numbers.” This had to be the best...idea...ever. Jase would see her with another man and sink into a black pit of rage; she’d discover how he handled the emotion. In a word: foolproof.
Brook Lynn sidled up to Numbers and threw her arms around his shoulders. “I know what you’re thinking. Yes, I did sit in a pile of sugar—because I’ve got a pretty sweet bee-hind. Now smile for the camera.”
Warm breath fanned her ear, making her shudder. She snapped the photo and bolted out of reach. Surely creepy and creepier was not the caliber of male on today’s market.
Or maybe they wouldn’t have been so bad if she’d stopped comparing everyone she met to Jase.
“You’re so hot,” the other one said to Jessie Kay, wiggling his brows, “even my zipper is falling for you.”
Jessie Kay slapped him on the back. “Dude. That’s a good one. I know! I know! Did you buy your pants on sale...because at my house they would be one hundred percent off.”
The guys laughed. Jessie Kay gave Brook Lynn a look that said having fun already?
No, but soon. Brook Lynn scouted the room for her next photo partner. Perfect! Young and cute. The mustache wasn’t to her taste, and he was a bit on the thin side, but beggars couldn’t be choosers and all that.
“We’ll be back in a bit,” she told her sister. “You. Come on. I might need an interpreter.” She dragged Kenna out of the corner, away from the circle of bad pickup lines, and bounded over to Mustache. “Let’s take a picture together.”
The guy furrowed his brow with confusion, but eventually consented.
“Jase is going to flip out,” she said, opening a text to him, selecting all of the images—and pressing Send.
Kenna moved in front of her. “Are you sure that’s wise? What if you lose him for good over this?”
She frowned, not liking the thought and rejecting it. “We’ll be good as gold after this. I’ll have my proof.”
“Proof? And, Brook Lynn, I wanted to jolt you out of your funk, maybe even to get you to talk about what’s going on with Jase, but I didn’t want to help ruin your life!”
“You’ve helped make it better. You’ll see.” And now, the moment of truth. She opened another text to Jase.
Come over 2nite. Let’s discuss the pix.
Send.
Someone bumped into her, pushing her forward. She stumbled and bumped into someone else. “Sorry, sorry.” The room began to spin faster and faster, and her stomach rebelled. She tried to move toward the bathroom—where the heck was the bathroom?—but she made it only two steps before hunching over and vomiting all over the floor.
* * *
BROOK LYNN WASN’T sure how she made it home. She woke up in bed, alone, with a splitting headache and a terrible taste in her mouth. Had rodents crawled inside it and died?
My picture should be next to idiot in the dictionary.
She turned the volume up on her implants, just in case her sister decided to make another surprise visit, and curled up under the covers. Lesson learned. Alcohol only made everything worse. She’d actually sent pictures of herself draped over other men to Jase. Of course he was going to rage.
A weight settled at the end of her bed. Her eyelids popped open, and she gasped. Jase! He’d flipped on the lamp, and golden light spotlighted him. Rumpled dark hair, eyes that were bloodshot but not spewing fire. He didn’t seem to have shaved since she’d left him, his stubble dark and thick.
She sat up, her body already heating...burning. Readying. The man who’d pleasured her so perfectly, so many times, was here, once again within reach. His masculine scent filled her head, at last chasing away her headache.
“Wh—what are you doing here?”
He frowned, and she had to battle the urge to brush her fingertips over his lips. “You invited me. Remember?”
She did, and she had to swallow a moan. The final text.
Jase withdrew his cell phone. “Let’s chat about these.” He showed her the screen. “This one is of a strobe light. This one is of a crowd. This one is of a dirty table. This one is of multiple pairs of feet.”
Mission fail.
Why not tell him the truth? Get everything out in the open? “I was trying to make you mad.”
“Okay, fine. You got me. I was trying to make you more than mad. I was trying to enrage you.”
“Why did you think these random pictures would enrage me?”
“They were supposed to be pictures of me with other guys.”
A terrible stillness came over him. “I see.”
She covered her face with her hair and peeked at him through her spread fingers. “I wanted to find out what you’d do.”
Several beats of silence. Such oppressive silence. “I see,” he repeated.
There’d been hints of anger in his tone, but nothing else.
“I’m sorry,” she said, miserable.
“Did you do anything with these men?” he asked quietly.