Page 10 of Combust (Everyday Heroes 2)
“I don’t need shit from you,” I say through gritted teeth. “All I need is for you to do your job and not screw up.”
The quiet vibrates across the connection.
“And if I don’t? If I miss the studio time, maybe that will force you to come home and actually talk to me face to face.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” My hand fists on my phone, and I hate knowing that I wouldn’t put it past Jett to pull a stunt like that. His threat is real.
“I wouldn’t.” There’s amusement in his voice, and I can all but see the cocky smirk on his face. “I don’t need the money. I’m more than good. Then again, we do need to talk.”
“Actually, we don’t.” Images flit through my mind like the snap of a camera: the light under the closed bedroom doorway, Tara straddling him, their mutual moans, their shocked faces when I gasped. How he shoved her off him and chased after me. The words, the promises, the apologies. Her stalking after us in all her naked glory. And then the nasty words she said that fed every insecurity I feel about myself.
“I made a mistake. I don’t know how many ways I can apologize to you before you believe it.”
“Apologizing doesn’t take the hurt away.” Neither does the photo I saw of them in People Magazine sitting outside at Starbucks where they knew the paparazzi would snap a shot of them.
“Have you seen her again?”
“I miss you, baby. I miss—” I’ll take that as a yes. His change in topic is classic Jett Kroger. If he doesn’t want to admit to something, he shifts gears without a second thought.
“Let’s focus on the song I sent you earlier. I’m still not sold on the opening verse, but—”
“I stopped by our place the other day—”
“You mean my place. It’s my place now. Not ours.”
“You were gone,” he says, completely ignoring my correction.
“Yep. Sure was.” I hate that my heart aches. I hate that I miss him. And I hate that I even wanted to see him.
“You packed up and left in such a hurry that—”
“I think once we’re in the studio and hear the whole thing put together, I’ll be able to pinpoint what needs to be changed.”
“You could be in the studio with me on Wednesday . . .”
“No, I can’t.” I won’t. For so many more reasons than just the physical distance between us.
Needing to abate the emotion rioting within me, I walk to the open window and look out at the darkness beyond. The warm night breeze blows gently against my skin, and it smells so clean. I’m so used to being able to watch the city come alive as the day fades to night that it’s unnerving to look outside and see silhouettes of trees against the moonlit sky.
“You’re not going to budge, are you?” I don’t respond. I can’t. There’s always been something about Jett that has made me melt, and I can’t melt this time. Yes, he cheated on me. Yes, I swore if anyone ever cheated on me I’d turn my back on him and never look back, which is exactly what I’ve done here. I called Damon, told him I needed help, packed my shit as fast as I could, and came to Sunnyville where he had helped me find a place. Just because it was easy to hold up to my own promise, doesn’t mean I can turn off the emotions or tell my heart not to hurt. That part is a lot harder than it seems.
But I’m here. I’m here because I knew it would be much easier to cave—to be weak—if I was in my place where his things surrounded me. Where he and his charm could wear me down.
“Dylan?”
“No, I’m not going to budge, Jett.” I clear my throat.
“Well, if you’re not going to come here, then I’ll come to you. Where are you?”
“I’ve already moved on. Found someone new.” The words come off my tongue without thought, and I hate the need to lie just to get him to stop.
“I don’t buy that for a goddamn minute.”
“You should.”
“You want to tell me where you’re staying?”
“No. It’s none of your business.”
