End of Day (Jack & Jill #1) (37 page)

BOOK: End of Day (Jack & Jill #1)
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“The flowers are overkill for a slap on the cheek.” Jillian rolled her eyes. “And get up off your knees unless you’re proposing, in which case the answer is no.” She grabbed the flowers.

“It was more than a slap and your face shows it. And you’re the only woman in the history of the world that would say that to me.” AJ stood and followed her inside the room.

“Yeah? Well, women can be sensitive and a bit persnickety. You had a moment … everyone has their moments.”

AJ tried to smile through the anguish. “What happened earlier, that wasn’t me. It’s not a
moment
I’m proud of.” He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed while closing his eyes. “Or maybe it was me. God! I hope not, but … I just don’t know anymore. It’s so damn frustrating—the unpredictability. One minute I’m in control, in the next … agitation at the whole fucking world rips through my body like a tornado.”

AJ rested his palm on her cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. “I’m so damn sorry. It will never—”

“Shh.” She rested her hand over his. “Never’s a long time. But next time—”

“There won’t be a next time.” He sat on the bed and pulled her between his legs, resting his forehead on her chest while cupping her ass.

“As I was saying … next time put some balls behind it.”

“My God, woman. You have a knack for verbally castrating men. If I spend much more time with you, I’m not certain I’ll still have a pair.” He bit at her nipple through her top.

Jillian moaned bringing his dick to attention.

“Let’s go.” He smacked her ass.

“Go where?” She climbed up on his lap, perching her crotch on the bulge in his jeans.

“I’m taking you to dinner for some real food.” His fingers dug into her hips to still her efforts of dry humping him.

Jillian kissed his neck as if food wasn’t even close to being on her radar. “I think if I tied you up again and sucked on your cock that would tide me over until morning.”

“No way in hell.” He lifted her from his lap and stood, adjusting his erection.

She laughed. “I don’t think that’s a normal reaction to a blow job offer.”

AJ cleared his throat and held open the door for her. “I don’t think you know how to give a ‘normal’ blow job.”

She waltzed past him with a smirk. “You mean boring?”

“Boring’s not always bad,” he grumbled to himself, letting the door slam behind him.

“Yes it is,” she called from twenty feet down the hall.

The woman had the hearing of a dog.

“My tongue will keep you young, Sarge. You don’t want your ball hair going gray yet, do ya?”

Jillian had impeccable timing. AJ turned at the giggling sound behind him. Three doe-eyed teenagers froze, holding their breath while covering their mouths. His piercing glare sent them scurrying in the opposite direction.

*

Their dinner at
the hotel’s tavern was two cloth napkins short of a real date.

“We had drinks, appetizers, a main course, and dessert. It was a real date,” AJ argued in the elevator on the way back to their rooms.

“Sorry, no cloth napkins.”

“But I brought you flowers.”

“That was an apology.” Jillian stepped off the elevator.

As she unlocked her door, he smoothed her hair off her neck and brushed his lips along her skin. “It was a shitty apology,” he whispered.

Goose bumps bloomed along her flesh as she shivered from his touch. “Good night, AJ.”

“Wait.” He hooked his arm around her waist as she pushed open the door.

“Just like that? No kiss goodnight or—”

She turned and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Sweet dreams.”

He tightened his grip as she began to pull away. “I think my ball hair is going gray.”

She laughed. “About that … I think you should just wax that whole area. I’d be happy to do that for you when we get home.”

AJ released her, buckling over like she just kicked his junk. “Guys don’t do that shit.”

“They do.” She tossed her purse on the bed. “I suppose you could shave it instead. I think Jackson has a straight edge we could borrow.”

“I’m messed-up, but not completely insane. I think I’d gnaw off my own hand before I’d let you near my dick with a straight blade.”

“I told you, I’m not into cutting.” She smiled past the knot in her stomach after realizing the words in her head actually came out of her mouth.

The jovial mood evaporated leaving a heavy, suffocating feeling in its place. She could see the question brewing in AJ’s mind as his expression became more focused, eyes searching, lips firming with a deep swallow.

“Who’s Jones?”

All the blood pulled from the surface of Jillian’s skin leaving a cold sweat in its place.

“What?”

“Jones. When I pinned you down and woke you after you fell asleep last night, you yelled ‘Dammit, Jones.’”

Complete honesty wasn’t a luxury Jillian would ever have again. Lying was survival. “My dog. I used to have a dog named Jones.” No lie.

“He died?”

She turned and opened her suitcase, needing something to hide the way her hands were shaking. “Yes, he died,” she lied.

“I’m sorry.”

Jillian fought the tight grip of emotion in her throat that felt like it was trying to asphyxiate her. “Me too.” She could hide her thoughts, her words, and on a good day her tears. But her heart demanded acknowledgment, there was never enough Heineken to numb the dull ache in her chest.

AJ huffed a heavy sigh. “I’m not good at this.”

She sat on the edge of the bed with her hands tucked under her legs. “Good at what?”

“This…” he motioned between them “…this relationship stuff. I should care enough to ask you more about your past, the blood thing, the ridiculous profession you’ve chosen, the reason why you’re living with your brother … but I’m too fucking selfish. I can barely deal with my own pathetic life, I just—”

She shook her head. “It’s fine. I have nothing to tell.”

His head jerked back a fraction as his eyelids fluttered with rapid blinks. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Jillian lifted a single shoulder. “You act like I’m on a cliff’s edge just waiting,
begging
you to ask me about my past and my ‘issues,’ but I’m not. The fact that you don’t ask me about it is why this…” she mimicked his motion between them “…relationship works.”

He nodded with an absent stare.

She’d gone too far. It was a slippery balance between too much and not enough. It’s human nature to desire what’s perceived as the unattainable. Was she making her past seem too unattainable?

“Don’t.”

AJ’s gaze snapped to hers. “Don’t what?”

“I was simply stating a fact. Don’t interpret it as a game. I’m not playing hard to get with my emotions. It’s not a trap.”

He rested his hands on his hips and stared at his feet.

“It’s a gift, AJ. You will never have to be my gallant knight on his trusty steed, drawing your sword to defend my honor. I will never gawk at sparkly diamonds in the jewelry store window or ask you where you see our relationship going.”

“You sound callous, but I know you’re not. I’ve experienced your compassion.”

“That’s a gift too. I’ve never been compassionate toward you with an ulterior motive. I’m not callous. I’m strong. It takes a lot of strength to give unconditionally because the ego is a savage, demanding beast.”

He narrowed his eyes a bit. “So nothing … you don’t want anything from me in return.”

Jillian smirked, prowling toward him. “I’m compassionate, not a saint.” She slid her hands under his shirt, tracing the definition of each firm plane of muscle.

He quirked a brow. “So you want me for my body?”

A provocative smirk stole her lips as she pushed up his shirt and teased her teeth over his skin. “I think we both know it’s not for your stellar personality.”

“You’re such a bitch,” he growled, grabbing her ass and lifting her up.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and laughed. “But an honest bitch.”

Chapter Thirty-One

Day

J
essica could not
blink. A thousand jolts of panic coursed through her veins.

It was fire.

It was ice.

It was insanity.

Panic seized her heart sending it into a pounding arrhythmia. Inside the black bag was an assortment of restraints: handcuffs, ropes, satin gags and blindfolds, and
zip ties
. She stepped away as if it were filled with poisonous snakes. He wanted to torture her. Maybe he did believe Four’s spirit was in her and he was planning an exorcism.

He’d been right all along, and maybe it was all part of his mind games. The chance of them having sex was once again less than zero percent. Period.

The bag was his final point. He’d been studying her, therefore he had to know there was no way she could ever be restrained. They’d hit an impasse and there would never be a bridge long enough to gap the distance. No matter how much she loved him … the bag and what it represented was too much.

She shoved it in the front closet, tossed her sandwich in the trash, and went to sleep alone—the way she would for the rest of her life.

*

Autopilot.

Jessica fell back into her pre-Dr. Luke Jones routine: exercise, work, study, test, repeat. After two weeks she gave up trying to pretend that he didn’t exist. After all, it would be difficult to do since they were both in the Long Beach Triathlon with Kelly and Gabe.

“You have a lot of explaining to do.” Kelly barged through the door.

“Nice to see you too.” Jessica set her bags by the door.

They were all riding down to Long Beach in Gabe’s SUV. Aside from a few texts from Luke asking if she was coming to clean, which she answered with a simple “no,” they hadn’t had any other communication since the black bag incident.

“Ellie said you’re Luke’s maid now. I told her she was full of shit, but she insisted she wasn’t and it’s a weird thing for her to make up on her own, so what gives?”

“Oh, Ellie … yeah, um … it’s true. I was doing some light house cleaning for Jones—I mean Luke. But I’m not anymore.”

Kelly looked at her like a third eye had sprouted above her nose. “That … that doesn’t make any sense.”

It really didn’t.

“You’re a disaster.” Kelly looked around Jessica’s cluttered apartment. “And everything at his condo is immaculate. What could you possibly be doing to help him?”

“I’m not doing anything. I was, but now I’m not. Are you ready to go?”

Kelly narrowed her eyes. “Why not?”

Jessica grabbed her bags and lifted her bike on her shoulder. “We—I—he … fired me.”

“What?” Kelly opened the door.

“Well, what I mean is he let me go. Actually it was more me than him.” She handed Kelly her keys to lock up then headed down the stairs. “He was too …
demanding
. I didn’t want to feel so
tied down
.”

“Jessica Mauve Day, I don’t believe a word you’re saying. This whole situation reeks of lies and … something else.”

“Hey, Jess,” Gabe greeted her at the curb and took her bags and bike.

Kelly tracked Jessica with an evil eye as they both got in the backseat.

“What’s with the sour grape look?” Gabe asked Kelly as he shut the door and adjusted his mirror.

“Our
friends
are up to something.”

Jessica shook her head and ignored Kelly’s distrustful scowl all the way to Luke’s condo.

“Hey, man!” Gabe jumped out and grabbed Luke’s bike.

Jessica looked out the opposite window, digging her nails into her palms just short of breaking the skin.

“Oh … you’re sitting in back?” Luke asked Kelly as he opened her back door.

“Why? Do you want to sit back here with your ex-maid?”

Jessica whipped her head around to look at Luke. He squinted a bit, flitting his eyes between her and Kelly.


Ex-
maid?”

“Yes. You fired her, didn’t you?”

“Uh …”

“I quit.”

“Oh, that’s right.” Kelly nodded. “You were being too … what did you say, Jessica? Oh, now I remember. You were being too demanding and she didn’t want to feel so tied down.”

Luke’s wide eyes sought confirmation from Jessica. “Is that so?”

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