BROKEN AND SCREWED(Broken_Part One)(29)

“You’re joking.”
“I’m not.” He stood from the bed and started looking for his clothes. As a big yawn came over him, he shook his head and ran a hand over his face. “I’ve gotta wake up. I thought I’d be in bed with you all night.”
I scooted up against the headboard and gathered my comforter around me. I hugged it over my breasts. As I watched him, I felt helpless. He had to go. That was the deal. I tried to stop myself from asking the question of when he was returning. No good would come from that answer.
So I heaved a deep breath. “Someone asked me out tonight.”
Jesse stopped what he was doing. The shirt he’d been about to pull over his head fell to the side and he sat at the end of the bed. His voice was low. “Who?”
“Eric Nathan.”
“Oh.”
What did that mean? Did it mean anything at all? My chest was tight as I asked, “What are you thinking?”
He snorted and pulled his shirt over his head. His movements were rough and he jerked his shoes on.
“Jesse?”
He snapped, “What’s your problem? We screw. That’s all we do. I don’t give a shit if you’re dating my replacement.”
“Your replacement?”
He started for the door, but I hurried and got there first. I pressed my back against the door and held the handle tightly behind me.
He stopped an inch from me, but stared past my shoulders. He refused to meet my gaze. He clipped out, “Let me leave.”
“What do you mean replacement?”
His hand ran over his head in a frustrated manner. He seethed, “Come on. Let me leave.”
My heart was pounding. When wasn’t it? And then I gulped. It was calm whenever I was in his arms. I almost groaned at that thought, but rasped out, “Jesse, you don’t mean for me? Do you?”
He chuckled and shook his head. Arrogance came over him. “Nah, Alex. I meant in basketball. He was second string forward, my alternate. The dipshit never played a game last year. He’s going to tank this year.” The smirk grew ugly. “Now I’m glad I ruined that sport for him. He can’t touch my records. I’d love for him to try. And everyone’s going to hope he’ll lead them to state champs. When he won’t, they’ll hate him. I couldn’t have planned that better.”
My heart sank. Of course he hadn’t meant for me.
He reached around me, but I didn’t give him a fight. I was shifted to the side and he slipped through. When the door was going to slide to a quiet close, his hand stopped it and he poked his head around the door. “Don’t let him screw you.”
Before I could ask what exactly he meant by that, he was gone. I went to the window. It wasn’t long before I saw him dart past my window and hurry to the Ferrari parked in front of the neighbors’ house. He’d left through the back door, which meant my parents hadn’t known he was there. I shouldn’t have been surprised. They would’ve torn the door down if they had. He was the closest reminder of Ethan. No matter how far they slipped into their numbed and dazed states, I knew they’d snap out of them for him. My parents loved Jesse more than they loved me.
It was something I learned after the funeral and I was okay with it now. Hell. I loved Jesse more than myself. I couldn’t blame my parents at all.

CHAPTER EIGHT

I stayed in the next day. Angie came over at one point to rant about the meaning of friendship, but she didn’t last long. Both of my friends had stopped visiting since Ethan’s death and I didn’t blame them. There was an empty feeling in my home. I had grown used to it and was now almost comforted by it. I knew that was sad and twisted, but it was beyond my control. So when Angie started checking her phone and glancing at the door after an hour in my room, I knew she’d felt the itch to go.