Stay with Me (Wait for You, #3)(119)

“Calla—”

“And every night she’s been in the bar, hanging all over you and you let her.” My hands curled into fists again. “The first time my friends met you she was feeling you up.”

Frustration flashed across his face. “We’re back to that again?”

“Yes!” I shouted. “We’re back to that, baby. You know, the whole ‘you need to trust me’ and basically deal with the fact you have a chick hanging all over you in front of me and my friends.”

“I never said you had to deal with it, Calla.”

“You didn’t?” I laughed harshly. “That’s not how I remember the conversation ending.”

Jax drew in a breath and a muscle spasmed in his jaw. “Actually, the conversation ended with you walking away. You didn’t give me a chance to say anything else or even to explain.”

“What’s there to explain? She was all over you, multiple times, and you just smiled at her!” My head felt like it was going to explode off my neck. “And I’m just supposed to trust you and be okay with it? Even when you have her showing up in your house at three in the morning like she belongs here and has no idea you’re seeing someone?”

“Correction,” he growled. “She doesn’t care that I’m seeing someone.”

Totally caught in my anger, I went on. “And she left here like you two were still going to hook up!”

“Calla—”

“You said you cared about her!” The moment those words left my mouth, I realized how ridiculous they sounded. I turned away, moving into the dining area. I knew he followed without hearing him. “You told her that you cared about her. I heard you. I also heard you tell her this wasn’t a good time and that she needed to call first before she came over.”

“Wait a minute.” His voice got low, got way too calm. “I don’t know what you think you heard or what bullshit you’re reading into it, but no shit, Calla. She needs to call before she comes by my house and three in the morning isn’t a good time.”

I whirled back on him, heart racing. “So if she called first and I wasn’t here, would it have been a good time then, Jax?”

His shoulders tensed as he drew back. “Are you f*cking serious?”

“Are you?” I shot back, fists shaking. “I don’t know if you realize this or not, but I’m not the one here who has guys showing up at all hours of the night or giving me free breast exams. And you haven’t heard me tell another guy that I cared about them when they were obviously trying to get laid.”

Jax looked away as he thrust a hand through his messy hair. “Yeah, I used to think Aimee was an okay chick, you know? I never was serious with her, and to be honest, I never got the feeling she was serious about me. So, yeah, I care about her. Don’t want to see any bad shit happen to her. Still don’t want to see that, but I’m rethinking the whole nice-girl thing after tonight.” He dropped his hand, gaze back on mine. “Caring about her is not the same thing. Calla. And I’m sorry—”

“Is that why you have so many toothbrushes?” I blurted out.

“What?”

“Toothbrushes,” I stated, gesturing behind him, toward the stairs. “You have all these unopened boxes of toothbrushes in your bathroom. Do you have them for the girls you’re with? One for me and one for Aimee and whoever else?”

A moment of complete utter silence passed between us as he gaped at me. Like so silent, you could hear a cricket sneeze.

“You really are f*cking serious,” he said, and that really did nothing to calm me down. “First off, I have so many goddamn toothbrushes because my mom gets me one for every damn birthday and holiday. She always has. It’s a f*cking tradition, and I keep them.”

Oh.

Well, that sounded kind of believable.

“Second, no girl—not a single f*cking girl except you—has ever used one of those toothbrushes. Not even Aimee. When I was with her, when I was with other girls, I f*cked them, they f*cked me, some might have stayed the night, but they all left in the morning or before then, and they sure as hell didn’t use any of my shit. Not even the damn shower.”

I really didn’t want to hear about him f*cking anyone.

“I’m not trying to sound like a dick, and I get the way this looks to you, and I’m sorry—I really am, because this is the last thing you need and to deal with her being here. And I get that you don’t have a lot of experience with these things,” he went on, and I felt my cheeks heat with color, because what he said was true. I was twenty-one and had absolutely no experience with boys. “So I understand and I’m trying to be real cool with the fact you don’t get the difference between the girls I’d f*cked and you.”

“I really don’t want to hear about the girls you f*cked,” I said, speaking my earlier thoughts. “But since you brought it up, what about your train station bed?”

Something crossed his face as he drew back, and I didn’t know why it looked like hurt, because he was the last person who should be feeling butt sore. “Yeah, okay. I’m not particularly proud of some of the shit I’ve done in my past—not the drinking and not the sleeping around. Bad decisions, but that shit . . . that shit is so in the past.”