Broken and Screwed - Page 4/64

I breathed deeply. I was trying to calm down; my chest jerked up and down from the effort it took.

His lips softly touched my shoulder again. His hand curved over my waist, skimmed up my arm, and cupped the side of my face. He tilted my face back to meet his gaze and then sighed. His pain was evident. It shimmered on the surface, but he shook his head. He rasped out, “He died in that. I’m keeping it.”

My eyes clasped shut.

“I’m sorry. I really am.”

I felt his coldness before he stepped back. He had already retreated behind a wall. I looked up, but wasn’t surprised when there was no emotion on his face. And I swallowed over a painful knot. The moments when he allowed me in were fleeting. I wondered when he would stop altogether.

“Do you need a ride to your car?” My voice was hoarse.

“I’ll call a buddy.”

I jerked my head in a nod. We were done. Our needs had been scratched for the night. As I left, an empty feeling filled me once more. I knew it wouldn’t be filled until Ethan’s birthday, when Jesse would let me in once again.

When I walked through the mansion, everything was dark. There were paintings on the walls, all of them in dark colors. A few sculptures had been placed in corners and none of them were happy. All of them seemed sad and depressed. It wasn’t until I was almost to the front door that I realized none of the windows were open. All of the curtains were pulled shut. It was like the sunlight wasn’t allowed inside.

When I left the front door and saw my car in the open garage, I suppressed a shiver. Jesse’s home was big, cold, and empty. I now understood why he lived with us most of the time since seventh grade until last year. His mother had died when he was in eighth grade, but I never considered what his home had been like. The few times I heard him mention his father, he never referred to him as Dad, just ‘the dick.’ When I drew close to my car and opened the door, I saw the cars lined up beside it. A Lamborghini, a Porsche, another Ferrari. Jesse only drove his black Ferrari so these must’ve been his father’s. My dad drove a Sable. Something told me our fathers were very different.

And then I sighed. My phone beeped; I knew it was my alarm. I had to be at work within the hour. As I got home and rushed inside, my mom was in the kitchen. The aroma of coffee filled the air and I heard the coffee maker still brewing. Before I slipped upstairs, I peeked around the corner. My mom still had her robe on and she stood at the sink with a cup of coffee in her hand. I knew without seeing that there was a blank stare in her eyes. It had been there for a year.

As I watched, her head dropped down, her shoulders sagged, and she placed the mug to the side. A disgusted sigh came from her before she reached inside a bottom cabinet and poured something in her coffee. I knew it wasn’t creamer and I knew it was alcoholic. That empty feeling doubled inside of me. I went to my room. My arms and legs were numb now, but I tried to shower and dress in a hurry. When I went back down the stairs, my mom was still at the sink. Her mug was raised back to her lips. When I went outside and looked through the window, I knew I was right. A blank stare was on her face. I raised my hand to her, but there was no reaction. Her eyes never blinked. She never wavered in her stance.

So I left.

When I got to the food court in the mall, I slipped underneath the counter at the coffee shop. Ben pivoted at my abrupt arrival and had an eyebrow arched high before I even met his gaze. I cringed at the curiosity in them and steeled myself. “What?”

His mouth gaped open at me for a second before he snapped it shut in a dramatic fashion. Then he wiggled his eyebrows and pointed over my shoulder. “Your bff is here with all his godly basketball buddies.” Then he gestured towards the trendy clothes shop closest across from us. “And I think Casey and her winos are going to move in for the kill.”

I cringed again at the sarcastic pleasure he laced each of his words with. “Sometimes, Ben, you’re too interested in everyone else.”

He shuddered and clasped a hand to his heart. “I cannot believe you would dare say such a thing.”

I rolled my eyes and filled a coffee for myself.

He groaned as I put the lid on and sipped it. “Why you drink that without sugar or cream is beyond me. It’s foul, Alexandra. Foul, I say!”

I was about to respond when a customer approached our coffee hut and I took care of their order. A steady line formed after that. It was an hour later before I was able to drink my own coffee.

Ben reached over me for a lid as he handed the last order away, but then he checked me with his hip. “He’s still there. And he keeps looking over here.”

I knew who Ben was referring to. He was under the same assumption as Angie that Jesse and I were meant to be. We weren’t. Obviously. But I couldn’t help myself and looked over. Immediately I was caught and captivated by him. His friends were laughing around him, but Jesse stared straight at me.

I sighed and looked down. I couldn’t handle him, not now, not after last night and how he basically threw me out.

Ben gasped. His hand smacked his own chest and his stomach jiggled from the movement. He hissed, “He’s coming over here.”

And he was. Jesse stood from his table. A few of his friends glanced over, but no one stopped him. They went back to their stories or lounging in a cool way, the stance that jocks perfected long ago.

He had showered. His jeans rode low on his hips, but he had a simple black shirt on. It didn’t matter how simple his clothes were. He always looked beautiful. My stomach crumbled up and shattered into pieces as I admitted that last thought to myself, but then he was almost at the coffee hut.