Him (Him #1)(54)

My head collides with something hard, and then an explosion of sound blasts through the room. A cacophony of pings and dings and clangs assaults my ears. It’s as if someone took a sledgehammer to a gumball machine and unleashed a wave of candy.

I stagger to my feet, cursing loudly when I step on something hard and round. “Son of a motherf*cking bitch!” I hop around on one foot as I use my hand to rub away the pain shooting through the other foot.

Jamie bolts into a sitting position, his panicked voice slicing through the darkness. “What the hell?”

“Seriously? You’re asking me?” I squawk. “What did you put on my pillow?”

“Skittles.”

He says this as if it’s supposed to make sense. “Why?”

I kneel down, fumbling for the box I’d just conked my head on. I hear Jamie’s footsteps heading for the door, and then a switch flicks and light floods the room.

Jesus. A sea of purple Skittles covers the floor and Jamie’s mattress.

And a lump rises in my throat as I realize the significance of what I’m seeing. Canning kept the box I’d given him in Boston, filled it with my favorite candy and left it on my pillow.

As an apology for spending the day with his ex?

Or is it an apology for something else? Something worse…like f*cking his ex.

Jamie squats beside me. “Help me clean this up.”

He sounds pissed. Looks it, too. Which only pisses me off, because what the hell does he have to be angry about? I’m the one who got ditched today.

We don’t speak as we start picking up Skittles. His jaw is set in a tense line, and he’s tossing the candy back in the box with more force than necessary.

“What?” I mutter when I catch him scowling at me.

“You’re back late.” His voice is tight.

“It’s our night off. I grabbed a drink at Lou’s.” I stick a hand under my bed and gather up more Skittles.

“I’d say you had more than one. Your breath smells like a brewery.” His tone suddenly sharpens. “You didn’t drive, did you?”

“Naw. I got a ride.”

“With who?”

“What’s with the Twenty Questions?”

Jamie whips a Skittle into the box but it bounces right back out, skidding under the desk. “None of the other guys have cars, Wes. Please don’t tell me you hitched with some random stranger.”

Guilt pricks my insides. But why the f*ck am I feeling guilty? Unlike some people, I didn’t spend the day gallivanting around with an ex.

“Who drove you home?” he demands when I don’t answer.

I meet his gaze head-on. “Sam.”

Jamie’s breath hitches. There’s no mistaking the cloud of hurt in his eyes. “Are you kidding me? The guy from that hook-up app?”

“I met him for a drink,” I say with a shrug. “What’s the big deal?”

He doesn’t answer. He just kneels on his mattress, gathering up more candy.

“Are you seriously pissed off right now?” I fight a burst of annoyance. “Because you’re not the one who got ditched today, Canning.”

“Like hell! First of all, you told me to take off early. And I didn’t know she was coming, okay? She showed up out of the blue, and, what, I’m supposed to ignore her? She’s my friend.”

“She’s your f*ck buddy,” I shoot back.

“Not anymore.”

He stands up and rakes both hands through his hair, then grabs the box and slams it on the desk. The floor looks pretty clear, but I know there’s no way we managed to pick up all the candy. Canning must’ve cleaned out that entire f*cking candy store.

Either way, the Skittles are all but forgotten as Jamie levels an irritated look in my direction. “But just because we’re not fooling around doesn’t mean she’s not my friend anymore. And she drove all this way to see me. So yeah, I spent the day with her. Went shopping, grabbed some dinner.”

I can’t control the hot streak of jealousy that races through me. “Bet that was fun. Did you eat some * for dessert?”

His mouth falls open. “Did you really just f*cking say that?”

I sure did, and I don’t even regret it. I’m sick to death of not knowing where I stand. Where we stand. Last night, I was inside this guy. And the second Holly showed up, he acted like we were strangers. He hadn’t even looked at me before he’d gone off with her.

Ain’t gonna lie—it hurt.

“Am I wrong?” I ask flatly.

Jamie releases a slow, even breath, as if he’s trying to calm himself. “I want to punch you right now, Wesley. Like, for real.”

I set my jaw. “What, for daring to call you out on the fact that you’re still into women?”

“You really think I’d just roll out of bed with you and into bed with her? I didn’t hook up! Which is more than I can say for you and your precious Sam.”

“I didn’t hook up with him, either.” Frustration spirals through me. “We just met up for a drink and talked about you the whole time. Jackass.”

Jamie blinks. “Then why the hell are we arguing right now?”

I falter. “Uh. I’m not sure anymore.”

There’s a beat. Then we both let out a tense chuckle. I’m feeling a lot less hostile and a lot more sober as I walk over to shut off the light again. When I turn back toward Jamie, he’s beckoning to me in the dark from his mattress on the floor. When I sit on the edge, he tugs me down to his pillow.