Feeling Hot - Page 20/89

“And I spent the night at Tessa’s. That sweet cabbie actually walked us to her door and made sure we locked it after him.”

She popped the last piece of waffle cone into her mouth and chewed slowly. “The next day, Brendan showed up at the jewelry store with flowers and apologized. I told him for the hundredth time that it was really over, and he seemed to accept it. But he kept up with the emails and texts, which only got angrier and creepier. Then he started leaving me handwritten notes in my mailbox.” Her chest tightened with anger. “But the last straw was breaking into my apartment. Did Carson tell you about the rose petals?”

Cash nodded.

“How freaking creepy is that?” she burst out.

She still remembered the fear shuddering through her veins when she’d walked through the door and found that trail of crimson petals. Rather than following it to her bedroom, she’d raced into the kitchen and grabbed a butcher knife. Then she’d called the cops and her brother, and waited out in the hall until help arrived. Fortunately, the apartment had been empty, save for the roses and the chilling note Brendan had left on her pillow. She ended up spending the night with Carson and her sister-in-law, and the next morning, Carson drove her to the station to file the restraining order.

“I can’t believe I didn’t see what a psycho he was,” she grumbled. “I must be the biggest idiot on the planet.”

Cash’s voice turned gruff. “You’re not an idiot. Guys like that know how to manipulate people. They wear this perfect mask to lure you in, and once they have you, they drop the mask and let their inner crazy shine.”

She choked out a giggle. “Inner crazy. I like it.”

His reassurance bolstered her spirits, as did the lack of pity on his face. She hated being pitied, which happened a lot in her family. Each time she failed at a job or admitted she hadn’t found her life’s direction yet, her parents stared at her with those big pitying eyes and made her feel like an even bigger failure.

They reached Cash’s building a few minutes later and hopped out of the car. Jen glanced up at the cloudless blue sky and let the sun’s rays heat her face, enjoying the balmy breeze that lifted her ponytail and tickled the nape of her neck. The one good thing about getting fired was that she didn’t have to spend the afternoon indoors, stuck behind a jewelry counter. But she knew that if she wanted to keep her apartment—and her independence—she’d have to start combing the job ads and find work ASAP.

“Let’s sit by the pool,” she suggested. “I’m not ready to go in yet.”

“Sure, but we should probably take this upstairs first.” He held up the gallon of ice cream that had been sitting in the backseat.

They quickly headed up to the apartment to shove the ice cream in the freezer, then went outside again, rounding the side of the building and emerging onto the manicured grass in the back. The rectangular pool sat in the center of the sprawling lawn, surrounded by a concrete deck offering white lounge chairs and tables topped with red-and-blue umbrellas. Despite the great weather, the pool was devoid of swimmers, and Jen and Cash had the area to themselves as they approached the deck.

“You look relieved not to be going inside,” she remarked.

His midnight blue eyes became veiled. “I like the outdoors. And it’s a nice day.”

She fought laughter. “Know what I think? I think you’re worried that if we’re inside, in close quarters, your trusty discipline might fail you.”

He mumbled something unintelligible.

When they reached the deck, she kicked off her flip-flops and rolled up the bottom of her jeans, then sat by the ladder next to the deep end and shoved her bare feet in the water. Cash did the same, leaving his sneakers on the grass as he joined her.

“Why don’t you have any platonic female friends?” she asked, tilting her head toward him.

“I’ve always been more of a guy’s guy.” He shrugged in a seriously adorable way. “Talking to women isn’t my strong suit.”

She grinned. “So you can hit on women but you can’t talk to them?”

Adorable shrug number two. “Everything leading up to sex is easy. During sex is a piece of cake too. Everything after sex? It’s like walking through a minefield. I mean, why can’t I just tell you that a certain outfit looks trashy? Or that Grey’s Anatomy sucks? Why do I have to recite a whole bunch of little white lies and play all those games?”

“I hate games,” she agreed. “Say what you mean, mean what you say. That’s how I roll.”

“Good to know, homie.”

Jen laughed. “Look at you, you’re doing just fine talking to me. Honest, cute, joking.” She raised her eyebrows. “Or is it easy for you because this is all leading up to sex?”

He scowled. “We’re not going to have sex.”

“Right, because you took an oath. Hey, did Carson make you sign the oath in blood?” When his scowl deepened, she simply laughed again. “Fine, I’ll stop. Let’s keep doing the friend thing.” She paused in thought. “So what’s up with the name Cash?”

He narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, what made your parents decide to name you after money?”

“Can we change the subject?”

She furrowed her brows. “Wait, you mean there’s actually a story behind your name? I was just passive-aggressively making fun of you.”