No way was I going to make myself seem desperate and argue about that. But I refused to give up hope. I wasn’t imagining things that day in the pool. It was real.
Without saying anything further, he started the truck and began driving down the palm-tree-lined streets toward our house.
As promised, Jace stopped around the corner. “I’ll see you in a bit.”
“Thank you for the ride, Kellianne,” I teased as I opened the door.
“Wiseass,” he muttered.
Jace stayed in the same spot until I turned the corner. In the distance, I could hear him take off. I hoped he wasn’t going to some girl’s house.
His instincts were apparently correct, though, because the second I walked in the door, Nathan was there, looking concerned. I couldn’t imagine what he would have thought if Jace and I had walked in together.
“You had me worried,” he said. “The bar closed a half hour ago. I thought you got into an accident.”
“How come you didn’t text me if you were worried?” I asked.
“I was just about to.”
“You shouldn’t have been worrying.”
“Jace mentioned you’d gone out with some guy you met on the Internet earlier today. I wasn’t sure if you were really with him and not Kellianne.”
I felt terrible lying to my brother. So I attempted to avoid it. “I was with Kellianne at The Iguana. And you’ll never believe what happened.”
“What?”
“I finally got up and spoke.”
“You did?”
“Yeah.”
“What made you do that tonight?”
“My emotions were kind of going haywire all day, and I needed to get it out somehow. I spoke about what happened to Mom and Dad—without going into detail. I honestly surprised myself.”
“Wow.” He pulled me in for a hug. “Really proud of you. Wish I could’ve been there.”
He and I talked for about fifteen minutes before the front door opened.
Our heads turned in unison as Jace walked in.
Nathan seemed surprised. “Hey. Didn’t expect you to come back. Figured you went back to that girl’s place after your parents’ house. What a freaking hottie.”
I felt my face go hot. I hadn’t gotten a look at her, and now I was glad for that.
“No. She’s not my girl. Staying here tonight.”
Jace’s eyes locked with mine for a moment, guilt written all over his face. Strangely, that gave me hope that whatever was happening between us was far from over.
• • •
In the middle of the night, I couldn’t stop thinking about Jace. I reached for my phone and clicked on his name.
Farrah: Are you awake?
I stared at the screen, awaiting his response.
Jace: Why are you texting me?
Farrah: What do you mean?
Jace: You know your brother is always grabbing your fucking phone. You shouldn’t be texting me.
His rationale made perfect sense, but his abrupt response still pissed me off.
Farrah: You can stalk me, but I can’t text you?
He didn’t respond, so after a few minutes, I typed again.
Farrah: I’m sorry for calling you a stalker. The fact that you showed up tonight made me really happy. But I went from feeling happy to bummed out after our conversation, and now I can’t sleep.
The three dots moved around for a while. His response finally came through.
Jace: Try to get some sleep. And delete this message chain off your phone, okay?
Rolling my eyes, I resisted the urge to scream in frustration.
Farrah: Done.
I swiped over his name to delete our history.
Chapter 8
* * *
Jace
I vowed to stay away from the house as much as possible the following week. I’d worked on Farrah’s car and got it running again, but I did my best to avoid her. Having crossed so many lines with her the other night, I wasn’t going to risk doing or saying anything reckless again. It was bad enough that I’d gone to The Iguana to check on her, but I’d also pretty much told her I would want to fuck her if she weren’t Nathan’s sister. I cringed. I should’ve never admitted my attraction to her.
Despite the fact that Farrah could rival a freaking Victoria’s Secret model in the looks department, it was more than a physical attraction that drew me to her. I felt very connected to Farrah—not only because we shared some of the same pain, but because whenever I looked in her eyes, I was reminded of innocence and passion and all that was good in the world. I always felt like she could see the good in me, even if I couldn’t see it myself. For years, I’d known about her little crush, and I’d never felt deserving of it, or of the way she looked at me—then or now. But especially now.
No way was I going to fuck up again. I needed to keep my feelings tucked inside where they belonged—and my dick tucked away, too, while I was at it.
Today after work, I forced myself to pay a visit to my parents to avoid running into Farrah. I knew I couldn’t stay away from the house forever, but I would until the tension between us blew over a little. It might have been dumb to assume it would just go away, but I was hopeful.
My father was sitting up in bed when I arrived.
I knocked lightly on his door. “What’s up, old man? How are you feeling?”
“I’ll be better if you tell me we were approved for the loan.”
Sitting down on the chair next to his bed, I rubbed my temples. “The bank is taking its sweet time to get back to me. They asked for a couple more pieces of info, and I had Kristy pull what they needed. Hopefully we can get that straightened out.”
“I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done.”
I nodded. “Let me ask again… How are you feeling?”
“I’ve been feeling sicker at night, but overall, I can’t complain. Your mother takes good care of me.”
“Her cooking would cure any ailment.”
“It’s not just her cooking.” He winked.
“Excuse me while I go throw up.”
“You know your father’s a horn dog,” my mother said from behind me. She had apparently been standing at the door.
Like father, like son. Wasn’t it my dick that ultimately led me to The Iguana the other night? Infatuation is like an addiction.
Granted, I wouldn’t characterize my feelings for Farrah as an addiction at Dad’s level. But so far, I hadn’t been able to shake her from my thoughts. I wished it were easier to forget about her.
“Hey, Dad. Let me ask you something.”
“What is it, son?”
“I know you have the best of intentions when it comes to stopping the gambling, but how exactly do you plan to do it? I mean, you say you’re gonna get help and you won’t do it again, but if something is that difficult to resist, how do you really know you can stop?”
Asking for a friend.
He sighed. “I don’t have any guarantees that I won’t slip. I just pray to God that I can do it. The main thing is keeping myself out of the atmosphere that would trigger me. That means never stepping foot into a casino again. There’s still online gambling, of course, but that was never my thing. There’s nothing like the rush of being at the tables. Undoubtedly, it’s not going to be easy, but I suppose you have to get to a point where you’re willing to experience suffering in order to do what’s best for your family.”