Rising (Blue Phoenix, #4)(62)

“If that’s okay.”

She arches and eyebrow. “Seriously, you’re not asking for my permission, are you, Jem Jones?”

Now I’m a bit lost. Good, she’s not being pissy and accusing me of sleeping with another woman and all the drama that entails, but not good if she doesn’t give a shit whether I do or not. Plus, I’ve noticed she uses my full name if she’s trying to distance herself by making me Jem Jones instead of her Jem.

Her Jem?

“I haven’t seen Kristie since I came back from LA.”

“You don’t need to justify yourself.” She scrolls through the iPad, not looking up. “I’m sure I’ll be able to entertain myself.”

“Just lunch.”

Ruby shrugs, focused on the screen. Confused as hell, I head for the shower.



****



Ruby



There is no reason for me to get upset about this. We never discussed exclusivity. I was dumb enough to think it was implied.

Tell that to the blotchy faced, teary girl in the mirror.

Did I honestly think Jem Jones would treat me any differently? That the guy who cares about nothing would care about me? Yes. Because he treats me as if I’m important. Hell, Jem even told me I was. Now I’m convinced I’ve spent the last week projecting the fantasy over the reality.

Well, then it’s time I stepped back to that reality and away from the weird world I’ve ensconced myself in with Jem.

Jem returns early afternoon. I hear the heavy front door and his familiar footsteps as I’m packing up my things from the spare room I haven’t slept in for days. One set of footsteps and no voices.

“Ruby?”

My hands shake as I pack a sweater into the rucksack, heart pushing into my mouth as Jem heads down the wooden hallway, approaching the room.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

Straightening, I take a deep breath, switch off, and turn to him. “I thought it was time I went home, back to the share house I mean.”

Jem leans on the doorframe and crosses his arms, and all I picture is Kristie lying against him, his long fingers stroking her hair. I shift my look to his mouth, remembering his touch and kiss, and furious with myself for caring.

“I knew you were bothered,” he says.

“Bothered? About what?” I pick more clothes from the bed.

“Seriously, Ruby? Don’t give me that bullshit. About Kristie.”

I straighten. “You went out for lunch with a friend. I presume she’s some kind of f-uck buddy, too. Why would I get annoyed about that? It’s not as if…” Shit. I focus on packing.

His tone hardens. “As if what?”

“It’s not as if we’re a couple. I mean, a committed relationship, in love, type of couple. It’s cool, Jem.”

He continues to watch me silently, and the hidden, stupid teen Ruby Tuesday wills Jem to come over, hold her and declare his love. I refuse to look around and instead behave as if he left.

“No, I don’t suppose we are,” he says quietly and walks away.

Taking shaky breaths, I inhale and squeeze my eyes shut, head tightening with the attempt not to cry. I slipped into this. Jem didn’t pull me. It’s not his fault.

Bag packed, I head to the lounge to grab my keys and phone from the coffee table. Jem’s watching TV, one arm across the back of the sofa as he flicks through the channels. He fills my life, and until this morning, it was as if nobody exists outside of us, but I know now he’s not mine. This happening is good; I was falling back into something I wasn’t ready for.

“I’ll see you on Monday at the studio,” I offer as I pick up my car keys.

Jem grunts. Oh, great, a male noise I recognise. An ‘I’m not talking to you’ grunt. What the hell did I do wrong here?

“Yes? Jem?”

“Yeah.”

“Enjoy your weekend,” I say brightly.

He turns to me, the expression on his face arresting. His eyes are darker, mouth pulled into a line I recognise from arguments we had early on. “Yeah, maybe I’ll call my ‘f-uck buddy’.”

I reel at his tone. “Whatever. Your life.”

“Exactly.” He returns to his clicking through TV channels.

“I’m not sure what I did wrong here, Jem.”

“Nothing.” He throws the controller onto the seat as a music channel appears.

“Okay, then. Bye.”

My foot has barely left the bottom stair in the hallway before Jem appears at the top of the stairs and calls my name. I turn back to him. “What?”

“I didn’t f-uck her. I mean, I’m not going to. Not anymore.”

“Please stop trying to justify yourself. I said it’s cool.”

“No, I want to tell you because if I did f-uck her, this would be over, right?”

I drop my bag. “Let me see. As an average person I think that my lover f-ucking another person may not be what I want.”

Jem takes a step down. “So if I’m not, and you’re my lover, what’s the problem?”

“No problem.”

“Then why are you leaving?” He walks down the rest of the steps. “I don’t want you to go.”

“It’s probably time I left. Things are better now, Dan’s under a restraining order and he hasn’t tried to contact me. He’s due in court soon, so I doubt he’ll make things worse for himself. I don’t need to hide here anymore.”