The Impact of You Page 9


Once she’s gone, Jase takes my hands in his. “I swear to God nothing happened. She got too drunk to drive home last night and I let her crash on the sofa. I didn’t touch her. I promise you.”

He’s still dressed in his clothes from last night – including his belt. If something did happen between them, why would he have dressed in all his clothes again before going to bed? I don’t know if I should trust him, but I want to.

He’s still holding my limp hands in his. “It’s fine, Jase. You’re free to do whatever…whoever you want.”

“Okay, I know. I just…I want you to know that things really are over between her and me, despite what this looks like. I’m not with anybody right now.”

“Fine,” I say. I don’t know whether to be mad at him, myself, or Stacia. There are so many emotions running through my system – anger, hurt, embarrassment – that I don’t know what to think. For all my supposed caution in getting involved with Jase, I suddenly realize I’ve built up our bond in my head into something it’s not.

Jase pushes his fingers through his thick hair again, cursing himself under his breath. “She took a bunch of shots and begged me to let her stay. All I did was give her a blanket and leave her up here. She was passed out when I came to bed a couple of hours later.”

My hands are still trembling. That news conjures up the image of a drunk Stacia hanging all over him, begging him to take her to bed. I don’t think for a second that she accidently drank too much and needed to stay. She’s much too calculated for that. The urge to hit something is barely contained. “You know she does this on purpose, right?” I ask.

He shrugs. “Probably. She likes to mess things up for me.”

I decide then and there I won’t let Stacia run me off. I’ll stand my ground. If Jase wants me here, I’m staying.

Jase picks up the coffee from the dresser. “You got me coffee?”

I nod.

He pulls me in for a hug. “Thanks, Whistle.”

I stiffen in his arms. One step forward, two steps back.

Stacia chooses that moment to grace us with her presence again. Jase rolls his eyes at her before turning to me. “I’m going to take a quick shower. Wait for me, okay?”

“Sure.”

He grabs a towel and some clothes and leaves me and Stacia alone in his room. Damn, this is awkward.

She makes a production of lacing up her strappy heels and organizing the items in her obnoxiously bright orange purse. “Gosh, I don’t even remember what happened last night.” She chuckles, inspecting herself in her compact mirror. “But I guess that’ll happen when Jase is feeding you shots.”

I stay quiet, knowing if I open my mouth, it won’t be ladylike. But it takes everything in me, and I repeat a quiet manta in my head. Don’t sink to her level. Don’t sink to her level.

Once Stacia is packed and ready to go, she crosses the room and stops in front of me. “You know he and I are neighbors back home. We practically grew up together. We have a history that can’t be undone.” She studies me silently for a moment, and getting nothing in response, she chuckles to herself and continues on her way.

God! I want to hit something. Preferably her face. My blood is boiling. I pace Jase’s bedroom, too keyed up to sit down. Maybe all that caffeine was a bad idea. When I pass by his unmade bed, I can’t help but stop and stare at the little wicker trashcan sitting beside the bedside table. If they did have sex last night, that trashcan should contain a condom. I walk closer, my heart pounding and peer down into the wastebasket.

An empty water bottle, a wadded up a receipt from the gas station for a tank of gas and a toy whistle.

No condom wrapper.

A breath escapes my lungs in a whoosh of air, and I sink down onto his bed. It’s this moment I realize I like Jase way more than I have any right to. I’m in way over my head.

Chapter 13

Jase

When I return from the shower, Avery is curled up on my bed with my journal from our human sexuality class. What the…

“Avery?”

She sets the notebook down beside her. “I have soft skin? That’s it. That’s all you wrote?” She shakes her head in mock disgust, not at all self-conscious that I just busted her for snooping.

I cross the room and grab the journal. “Now you have to let me read yours.”

She smiles. “No way. Not when all you wrote was that cheesy line. You haven’t earned it.”

I sit down next to her. “Then let me earn it.”

She brings her palm to my cheek and meets my eyes. The banter between us dies away, and I’m left with a longing to my very core. Her eyes linger on my mouth. I’ve never wanted to kiss someone so bad in my entire life. My heart is pounding painfully in my chest while I wait to see what she’ll do next.

She reluctantly drops her hand and moves away from me on the bed. “Things went pretty well with Mitch last night.”

“Oh, right. Mitch.” That’s just fucking great. “My challenge was to talk to him. Not to go home with him.”

She swats my arm. “All we did was talk. He drove me home and was a perfect gentleman.”

“Good.” Thank fucking God. “Are you seeing him again?”

She lifts one shoulder. “Not sure. We’ll see if he calls.”

“He got the digits?”

She nods, smiling coyly.

Damn. That tiny, inconsequential fact shouldn’t make me want to punch something, but it does. I mean, Christ, she walked in to find Stacia in my bedroom this morning and she’s being so fucking cool about it. I need to pull it together.

Avery sits on my bed, still watching me, waiting for a reaction. I can’t be held responsible for my actions when her mouth is so lush and pink. It’s practically taunting me. I stand and place my hands on my hips, needing to infuse some humor into the situation. Otherwise, I’m going to kiss her again, and that clearly isn’t what she wants.

“Well, since it seems you’re really excelling at the challenges I’m dishing up, it looks like we’re ready for something more advanced.” I hope she can’t tell I’m literally making this up as I go.

A musical ringtone fills the silence and Avery lunges for her phone. “Oh, hang on one sec, it might be Mitch.”

Shit fuck.

* * *

I lie in bed, still wondering if I handled things right with Avery. I practically pushed her into Mitch’s arms last night. But of course that was after she told me she wasn’t ready for anything. What can he give her that I can’t?

Before I call her for our nightly chat, I dial my mom’s cell.

She answers on the first ring. “Jasey?”

I inwardly groan at the nickname. “Hey, Mom.”

“Hi honey. What’s up? Calling to check on me?”

I smile. No use beating around the bush with her. “I guess so, yeah. How are you?”

“I’m doing fine, Jase. Your dad’s going to China on business later this week. He’ll be gone for two weeks, so if you wanna come see me…”

We both know that it’s a bad idea for me and my dad to be in the same house together. “Yeah, I will.”

“Well, I really am doing good, honey. I joined a new book club at the library.”

“Good, Mom. I love you.”

“Love you more, Jasey.”

It’s a relief to hear her doing so well. I still beat myself up that I didn’t see the warning signs before. Not answering her phone and forgetting to call me back for weeks on end, the robotic tone in her voice when we did talk. I should have known something was off. Hell, my dad really should’ve known something wasn’t right. But he ignored her like usual, until he found her in a heap on the bathroom floor. I’d never heard his voice so panicked when he called to tell me she’d been taken by ambulance to the hospital.

“Okay, I’ll see you next weekend.”

“Bye honey.”

Looks like I’m going home again next weekend. I switch off the lamp and get comfortable under the sheets before calling Avery. Hearing her sleepy voice right before she falls asleep always makes me grin.

“Hi,” she whispers softly.

“Hi.” We’re both silent for a few seconds, but there’s nothing uncomfortable about it. “Did you have fun with Mitch?”

“Yeah. He took me out for hot chocolate and then we just walked around campus for a while.” I can hear the smile in her tone.

Douche. “Cool. That sounds nice.”

“Yeah, he’s a little quiet, so we didn’t have much to talk about, but I think it was a good assignment for me.”

“So you’re not seeing him again?” I cross my fingers. And my toes.

“I didn’t say that. He said something about going out next weekend, so we’ll see.”

An idea pops into my mind and now that it’s planted itself there, I know I won’t be able to shake it. “Oh, shoot. I was going to ask you to come home with me next weekend.”

She pauses, just the sound of her breathing through the phone as she considers it. “Really?”

“Yeah. I need to go home to check on my mom while my dad’s in China on business. I was going to see if you’d want to come with. My mom’s really cool and we could just hang out, watch movies, go in the hot tub. It’d be low key. If you’re interested…” I mentally high-five myself at the pure genius of this solution. It keeps her away from Mitch the Bitch and gets her closer to me all in one fluid motion.

“Ah, yeah, sure. That sounds fun.”

* * *

Call it evil genius or exceptional planning on my part, but the fact that Avery is in my car next to me on the three-hour journey to my mom’s just feels right. When we pull in to my neighborhood, Avery leans forward in her seat to look out the window. It’s a nice neighborhood, I know that. Each house is huge and immaculately maintained; even if they do all look strikingly similar. Too cookie-cutter.

I pull onto the circular brick driveway and park in front of the four-car garage.

“Wow. Nice place.”

The house is way too big for just my mom and dad, part of the reason my mom goes crazy sometimes. I would too, alone in a cold, quiet house. But looks can be deceiving because yes, it’s an amazing house. Red brick exterior, fountain out front, pool and hot tub in back, more bedrooms and bathrooms than we’ll ever use.

Avery climbs from the car and stretches. “This is where you grew up?”

“Yep.” I reach into the backseat and grab both of our overnight bags. My mom’s waiting for us on the wide front porch, looking at Avery curiously. I realize I’ve never really brought a girl home before. Stacia doesn’t count: she lives three houses down and was always here, invited or not.

I’m happy to see my mom looking put together. There’s color in her cheeks and her eyes are bright. Sometimes I wonder if I’ve been coming home to see her so often to try and erase the memory of her looking so pale and tiny in that hospital bed. She bore no physical scars. Even her suicide attempt had been nice and neat. Able to be swept under the rug and forgotten. How polite of her. We never mentioned the word addiction, even as her use of pain pills for her back increased drastically over the years. And we never used the word suicide. Mom’s accident was the term my dad coined. Fucking prick. No wonder she didn’t know how to ask for help.

I turn and catch Avery nervously wringing her hands and push all that shit from my head. “Ready?”

Avery nods and I lead her forward.

Avery

Jase’s mom is gorgeous. She’s got long dark hair, neatly secured at the nape of her neck, and wide honey-colored eyes with the same thick, dark eyelashes as Jase. Her eyes are weary though, and are currently sizing me up. I wonder what Jase has told her about me. Does she think we’re dating?

When we reach the porch, she pulls Jase into a hug, and I wait nervously beside them.

“Avery?” she asks, releasing him.

I nod once. Her smile is wide and welcoming, and I see that I have nothing to worry about. “Hi, Mrs. Owens.”

“Call me Cathy.” She pulls me in for a hug too, and I hear her tell Jase over my shoulder “She’s gorgeous, Jase.”

He chuckles. “Trust me, Mom, I’m all too aware.”

I stand there stunned, trying to pretend they’re not talking about me like I’m not here, trying to pretend that Jase thinking I’m gorgeous doesn’t turn my insides to mush. We enter the house and the inside is even more immaculate than the outside. A large marble floored foyer with a round table holding a giant vase of fragrant peonies greets us. Wow. A staircase winds off one side of the foyer, and the other opens to a spacious living room with the highest ceiling I’ve ever seen.

Jase gives me a tour of the large, opulent first floor with Cathy trailing behind us, asking us each occasional questions about school. She leaves us after that, saying dinner will be at five, excusing herself to the sunroom where she perches in a lounge chair with a romance novel.

Jase leads me upstairs to his bedroom. The carpeting is so soft and plush beneath my feet as I trail after him down the long hallway. Their house really is beautiful.

His bedroom appears unchanged from high school – the walls are adorned with posters of supermodels and pro athletes, and a shelving unit holds various trophies and medals. When I get closer, I see they’re for swimming and tennis. Interesting. I didn’t take him for much of an athlete, though his lean physique begs to differ.

He crosses the room and tosses our bags onto a dark mahogany sleigh bed that sits under the window. He doesn’t expect me to sleep in here, does he? Surely his mom wouldn’t be okay with that. Surely I wouldn’t be okay with that.

“Jase?” I question, watching him walk toward me.

“I like having you in my space.”

Uncertain of how to answer, I remain still and silent as he approaches. His hand cups my jaw, his thumb skittering back and forth against my skin. My eyes flick to his mouth, lingering on his lips, that I know from experience are incredibly soft and full. His mouth curves up a fraction and I know I’ve been caught. His thumb continues its gentle caress on my cheek and his eyes are bright with desire.

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