All That Jazz (Butler Cove #1)(71)

It’s too much. I hang on to him as he takes me over and over. I’m trembling. My muscles straining, my heart screaming.

His face and hot breath are in my neck.

I suddenly want to cry. I want him to look at me. His desperate need to have me is breaking me in half. Does he even know he’s holding pieces of me against the wall? The part I hate the most is that it feels so good. It’s never felt this good. Before I know it, I’m chasing the edge, pushing back against each of his thrusts with everything I have. I’m holding his head, my hands bunched tight in his hair.

“God, Jazz.” His voice breaks. “I need … I can’t … you …” His hips jerk forward in one last punishing onslaught, not waiting for me. “Fuck.” The word explodes out of his throat, his body shuddering.

Water splashes on my knuckle, my face is resting against my hand that’s in his hair, and I realize I’m crying even as I’m gasping for breath.

He moves back, adjusting himself, and I slide down the wall.





“SHIT,” JOEY SAYS as he sees me collapsing down the wall.

I’m crying so hard, I can’t breathe. My face is a silent grimace, water streaming down my temples to my ears. I keep sliding, just needing to sink to the floor for some solidity. My legs have no strength.

He catches me before I hit the floor, and we both go down. He wraps his arms around me and holds me together as I break apart. “I’m sorry,” he says into my hair. “Shit, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

I shake my head as if I can assure him I’m okay, but I can’t speak. I have years and years of swallowed down emotions, brushed aside feelings, pretenses and heartbreak erupting out of me. And the absolute irony of it all is that I know now that Joey feels something for me. Something deep and beyond what just happened. But it’s too damn late for us.

I’m grieving, I realize.

I’m grieving what we could have had. And Joseph, clueless as ever, has no idea that I’m crying because I’m saying goodbye to my childhood dreams of him and me. I’m leaving Butler Cove and my childhood behind me, and it can’t happen soon enough. Though, God, maybe he does know this is goodbye for me. I can’t believe I let him have me again. “I have to go,” I manage. “Let me up.”

“Please,” Joey says. “Speak to me. Please. Did I hurt you? What the hell just happened? Please stay.”

“I can’t.” My voice is barely above a whisper.

“Please. I’m sorry,” he begs. He threads his fingers through the hair at my temple pushing it back from my face. His lips fall urgently to my skin there. “Please. Stay.”

I shake my head. “No.”

Pulling back, his face slowly bleeds free of emotion, like he folds it all carefully and deliberately away. He nods and stands. His hand comes down, and I take it so he can pull me to my feet.

Swiping the heels of my hand against my cheeks, I try to dry the tears. When I look at him, he’s got his hands linked behind his neck, and he’s raised his face to the ceiling, his eyes closed. His bare chest is broad, billowing up and down, and sun kissed from the boat today. There are red marks from my nails on his shoulders. His board shorts are slung low.

When he opens his eyes, I swallow hard and look away, casting about for my bag. Seeing it by the door, I grab it. I wince. I’m sore and uncomfortable. I twist the door knob to go out, and his palm comes down on the door in front of my face holding it closed. His breath is warm against the back of my head and the tops of my shoulders.

“Did I hurt you just then?”

I shake my head.

“I want you to stay. I don’t want you to go. I want the record to state that you’re the one leaving right now.”

I nod. “I’m okay with that.”

“You’re running.”

“No, Joey. I’m walking away.”

The air around my neck stirs as he inhales sharply. His hand fists briefly before it lifts off the door, and I open it and step out into the deepening dusk.





WITH ANY LUCK, now that Keri Ann and Jack are working their future out, I won’t be at the Butler home much. Less chance of seeing Joseph. Anyway, he has his residency coming up. He hasn’t told us where he’s going. Perhaps he doesn’t know yet, though I doubt it. I know he’s kept in touch with Dr. Barrett. They became good friends after Joey worked with him that one summer, despite it being brief. Even though I can’t stand the guy, I know he’s a good doctor.

I’m leaving soon, and all these details—people, places, plans—will be footnotes in my life. They’ll be interesting pieces of news and that’s all.

My tears are all dried up by the time I drive from Joseph’s to the marina. I stop in at Woody’s and order a burger with everything. Dirty Harry is in his spot at the bar. I clap him on the shoulder, then I walk to our apartment and unlock the sliding door to my room. My mom left yesterday to go stay with an old high school friend who just lost her husband.

I strip my white gypsy dress off my body and pull my bikini off. I’m sticky between my legs and I immediately get into the shower, gasping at the cold as I turn the water on. I don’t wait for it to heat up as I cool my puffy eyes and lather up my hair. I cleanse my body of the events of today. This morning it all seemed so fun, and now I almost wish I could go back in time. This thing with Joey should have remained untouched. Undisturbed. Buried history. Easier to move on from.