Page 101 of Stroked by (Stroked)
“That’s all I’ve been! But you keep doing the same thing over and over again, Paisley. You keep making wrong decisions.” Jonathan stands, a look of defeat in his stance. “It’s your life, Paisley, fuck it up all you want. But from now on, I’m out.”
“What?” I ask, watching him grab his jacket.
“I said I’m out. I’m done with your bullshit and trying to dig you out of trouble. You made your choice, you chose him over me, now live with it.”
“It’s not a choice between you and Reese.”
“Isn’t it?” He steps up to me, his eyes blazing. I can feel the anger radiating off Reese, ready to strike again. “It’s your job, your well-being over a fuck. I’ve worked my ass off to support you, and this is how you repay me? Well, I’m fucking done.”
I quickly swipe away the tear that falls down my face. Reese holds me even tighter, looping his arms around my chest from behind. I grip his forearms and speak directly to Jonathan. “Maybe you weren’t the friend I thought you were, because to me, if the roles were reversed, you wouldneverhave to ‘pay me back’, Jonathan. I would help you because you’re my friend, and I’d expect nothing in return.”
“Whatever.” He rolls his eyes and steps away. “I told you this was going to be a problem, that you needed to stay away from him for your career, but you didn’t listen to me.” Pointing at Reese, Jonathan says, “When she’s out on her ass without a job because you’re a selfish dick, just know, you could have walked away and spared her.”
Swinging the door open, Jonathan walks out of the apartment, leaving a tumultuous wake behind him.
***
“Hold still, Reese.”
“Paisley, stop. I don’t need to ice anything, dammit. I want to make sure you’re okay. Please just let me hold you.”
We’re lying in bed, I’ve patched up some of the cuts, and now I’m trying to get him to ice the welt under his eye, but he won’t stop trying to tend to me. In all honestly, the only thing that feels bruised right about now is my heart.
I knew what I was getting into when I decided to give in to the temptation of being with Reese, but I never in my wildest dreams expected Jonathan to lash out so harshly. Yes, I thought we would get in a fight, but for him to say such hurtful things and get in a brawl with Reese, that was a reaction I wasn’t expecting.
I’ve known Jonathan for years now and there has never been a situation in our relationship where we’ve yelled at each other, nothing like today. It scares me, but it also makes me mad. We are supposed to be best friends, but the words he said stung, stung in a place I never expected him to touch.
I never thought dating Reese was going to be easy but then again, I never thought it would break up my relationship with my best friend either. A part of me thinks that Jonathan needs to cool down and then we’ll talk it out. But there is a darker part of my heart that believes what I’ve done—what I put between us—is unfixable.
“Just lie down, I’m fine. He just fell on top of me, I didn’t get injured.”
Grabbing the curly strands of his hair, he sits up and slides his legs off the side of the bed. “I’m not talking about getting hurt physically, Paisley. Fuck!”
He’s upset, like really upset. He’s only wearing a pair of shorts, his back is tense, the tattoo gracing his shoulder blade flexes with each movement he makes, and I wonder why he is so angry.
“That shit scared me, Paisley. I don’t want you thinking we can’t handle this relationship. I need to know you’re not going to go running. I need to know you’re in this for the long run.” He pauses and shakes his head. “I need a drink.” He gets up off the couch and heads toward the kitchen. I pray Jonathan is gone for the night, hopefully working our fight off with some random girl he met at a bar.
But when I hear Jonathan’s voice ring out from the kitchen, I realize I’m not that lucky.
“Can’t leave when you’re unwanted, can you?”
“Pretty sure the only one who has a problem with me being here is you, and for the record, I let her go when I found out about her job and how important it was to her. She was the one who came to me.”
“Am I supposed to be happy about that?” Jonathan’s voice spits like venom, and I wonder if I should go out to the kitchen to diffuse yet another brawl that seems to be brewing.
“It wasn’t an easy choice on her part.”
Jonathan scoffs. “Please, I saw how she reacted the first day you texted her. She was fucking giddy from head to toe. She knew the consequences, and now she has to face them.”
“Why are you being such a dick to her? She calls you her best friend? I don’t see one ounce of a best friend in you, all I see is a judgmental asshole. Do you really think she would be ruining her career over some school girl crush? I’ve known her for just a short period of time, and I already know she’s more intelligent than that. She doesn’t make decisions on a whim, she thinks about them and acts with her heart. Being with me hasn’t been easy for her, but she’s handled it professionally, to the point that Jasper has been so impressed with her that he’s asked her many times for production help. Is being with me the best decision she’s ever made? Probably not. But not because of her career. Because she deserves someone better than both you and me. I was just the lucky fuck she fell for.” He takes a breath as my heart hammers in my chest. “If I don’t get to be a part of her life anymore, it will be a loss I will feel for a lifetime. If I were you, I would get your shit together and let the petty stuff go. Paisley’s worth so much more than losing her over some stubborn attitude. Grow the fuck up and be the best friend she deserves, you self-centered prick.”
The fridge door slams and the padding of Reese’s feet across the apartment’s hardwood floor resonates through the otherwise silent space. I’m tucked behind the door so I can hear the conversation better but quickly run to the bed where I jump on it and casually try to lie across the comforter before Reese returns. I twirl my hair around my finger and act casually, refraining from whistling because that would be too obvious.
Furious, Reese slams my bedroom door and then takes a sip of the water bottle in his hand. In fascination I watch as his throat contracts with each swallow, the fine sinew flexing under his control. When did swallowing water become so damn erotic?
Everything inside of me heats up—not just from watching him drink water, but from the words he spoke to Jonathan. Ever since I can remember, my parents have told me to stop dreaming, to not waste my time on petty infatuations of breaking out of the shell they tried to hold me in. My grandpa was the only one who told me to think big, and then I met Jonathan. He captured the same kind of spirit I had for film and TV production. We were inseparable during college and when he graduated before me, he offered to be roommates. He watched me struggle through my last year with my internship and held me when I cried overThe Incident. I never thought he would get angryatme, and say the things he said to me with such malice and hatred in his voice.
But to hear Reese stick up for me, to put Jonathan in his place, it warms me so much it scares me. This man, in the matter of a few weeks, has swept me off my feet, bonded with me, made me laugh, made me realize it’s possible to share an incredibly deep connection with another human being—one so vibrant, so real—that I wonder if it’s all a dream. He’s made me feel protected, cherished . . . loved.
