Jaded (Jaded #1)(16)

“Great, well…I don’t think it matters. He’s had his eye on you since eighth grade.

Just…be careful, okay? Tell Bryce about this.”

I nodded mutely and climbed into my car. Instead of going to the pool hall with Corrigan, I turned around the back door of the kitchen and got out to put the beer inside.

And then I headed home, alone.

I was home for another hour before I heard my doorbell ring again. I knew Bryce would probably stop over, but I had locked the doors anyway.

When I got to the door, I saw Corrigan outside, jumping up and down.

“Hey.” I opened the door.

He brushed past me and demanded, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

I moved past him and headed back downstairs to the media room.

Corrigan followed and continued, “I was just around the corner. I would’ve helped, Sheldon.”

It wasn’t the point. I waved him off, “Chet was there. It was fine.”

It wasn’t.

Corrigan agreed with me because he cried out, “Are you delusional? Are you stupid? How screwed up are you?”

I bristled and sent a warning glint his way. I didn’t like insults.

He caught it and bit back his next words, but he said, “Seriously, Sheldon. That was scary, even for me. Chet said it took him, Tatum, and Holster to stand up before Chad finally backed down.”

More than those three had stood, but I guessed that Chet hadn’t informed him of those details.

“This is huge,” he breathed out, slightly still in shock.

I groaned and pulled a pillow over my head. “Shut up.”

“I cannot—” Corrigan stopped abruptly when the front door slammed shut.

We glanced at each other before Corrigan took off running upstairs.

I stayed put and waited, tense, for what seemed like forever. I even shut off the television and listened, but I didn’t hear a thing. I should’ve gone upstairs. I should’ve contained the situation, but I knew it’d come down to an argument between Bryce and myself or Bryce and Chad Yerling.

I chose to be selfish.

I groaned and moved into the media room where I started playing pool.

I was good on a normal basis, but all my shots were spectacular under pressure.

And my mind wasn’t even on the game. It was on whatever was going on upstairs.

And then I heard the door slam again. I cursed as my arms jerked in reaction.

I waited, held my breath, but I didn’t hear any movements down the stairs. After ten more minutes, I slowly, gingerly, placed the pool stick on the pool table and moved upstairs.

Instead of finding Bryce or Corrigan or both of them, I found a note that had been quickly scrawled on the kitchen counter.

Went out. Be back later.

CHAPTER FIVE

I skipped supper, shot another hour at the pool table, and even watched a movie.

My mind was reeling, but I couldn’t bring myself to call Bryce or Corrigan to find out what was going on.

It pissed me off because I wasn’t relaxed, laughing, or being satisfied.

I was anxious, pissy, and tense. All three emotions that I hated.

When the doorbell rang at 10:32 that night, I shot off the couch and raced upstairs.

Instead of seeing Corrigan or Bryce, I opened the door in surprise to find Denton Steele. He grinned at me and skimmed his eyes up and down my body. I had changed to a skimpy tank-top with no bra and pajama bottoms that rested low on my hips. Coral toenails peeked from underneath. I brushed my hair behind my ears. The slight movement teased my shoulders and I felt goose bumps break out over my arms.

“Steele,” I greeted, confused. “What are you doing here?”

“You look good, Sheldon.” He nodded. “I like your hair like that, when you let it loose.”

I touched my hair. It wasn’t anything special, but it was straight, shiny, and the guys seemed to like how dark it was.

Denton added, “Can I come in?”

“No.” But I held the door open and waited as he passed by.

He glanced around the place and whistled, “It looks just like I remembered.” He flashed a grin that girls nationwide swooned over. With his brown locks that were styled to frame his face and those hazel eyes, I remembered why I’d made a play for him before and grinned at the memory of my orgasm.

He’d been creative.

“Remember my garage?” he teased. His thoughts must’ve paralleled mine.

“I remember the feel of the couch in your garage,” I replied, dryly. I actually remembered the echo of my orgasm around the building.

Denton chuckled and moved into the kitchen.

“So what brings you to my doorstep at 10:32 at night?” I asked.

“Aren’t you going to ask if I want anything to eat or drink?” He frowned. “I think that’s what you offered my sister.”

“Is that why you’re here? Are you here because of Mena?”

The flirtatious glint was wiped clean when he replied, coolly, “Look. I don’t want my sister hanging around you.”

My eyebrows arched at that one.

“How come?” I asked, curious.

“No offense,” he said quickly and I shrugged. He added, “I just—you’re not the type of girl I want around Mena right now. She’s,” he frowned. “She’s vulnerable right now.”