Flirting With Chaos (14 page)

I remembered the night like it had happened yesterday. Jude had snuck over to my house the next day, waited for Mom to leave, and told me all about it. The oddest part to me about the whole confession was how unsettled he’d seemed, as if he was unsure if that was a good thing for a father to do or not. He’d plastered on a weird smile as he’d given me all of the sick details, and at the end, he’d lain next to me without speaking another word. At fourteen myself, I hadn’t known what to say and had just hugged him the rest of the day until finally my mom had come, and he’d had to sneak out through my window.

Jude glanced at me over his shoulder. “What’s up, Rain? I thought you wanted to go to sleep.”

“I was just thinking.”

“About my father?” He frowned.

“That’s not funny.”

“Oh God.” He rose, threw off his blankets, and got out of bed. “You overthink everything, Rain. Just have fun.”

“Just have fun? How, by being shared by both your dad and you?”

“It doesn’t matter if we share you, as long as you enjoy being shared.”

“I’m not interested in it.”

“Sure you’re not.”

“And I’m not overthinking.”

“Yes, you are. If you want to hook up with my dad, then do it.”

“I-I don’t.”

“Whatever.” He headed to the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Are you my wife now?” He raised his eyebrows at me. “I have an erection due to kissing and being next to you. It’s not like your innocent little self is going to do anything about it right now, so I’m going to yell for Vicky.”

Fury boiled within me. “Your resident slut?”

“At least she understands what she wants and goes after it.” He opened the door and slammed it shut.

“What the hell does that mean?” I called back and scanned the guest bedroom, searching for a sane person to explain to me what had just happened. Hadn’t we been cuddling and talking like friends? Then the next minute, all of a sudden, we’re arguing about his dad, and he wants to leave?

Vicky understands what she wants? Give me a break.

I decided to yell out something mature. “I know exactly what I want. To not be friends with a dickhead!”

Yep. Totally mature.

“Vicky!” Jude yelled near my door. He had to be standing right in front of it, which was ridiculous. His bedroom stood several feet away from my guest room. There was no need to be calling out to her where I could hear it.

I formed my hands into tight fists. He was lucky I’d left my purse in the town car with Thompson, or I would’ve maced him right there.

“Vicky!”

Is that really necessary? Does he have to make sure I hear him going after her?

“Vicky!”

Female giggling ensued from a distance. A door opened and closed; at least, I think that was what I’d heard.

“What’s up, baby?” Vicky’s footsteps stomped past my door.

“I need you to take care of me.” Jude’s voice sounded right outside of the damn room. Right outside of it!

I gritted my teeth when the sound of slurping came next. My door banged, likely from him leaning her against it.

Don’t do this, Jude. Don’t do this to me.

“Take off your shirt.” His voice held an edge.

Is he going to really have sex with her right here?

Vicky moaned, and I cringed and rushed out of bed, putting on my pants as fast as I could.

Why is he doing this? What is he trying to prove? What the hell happened to make him so mad?
Or was he even mad? Maybe this was the Jude that women dealt with. Perhaps this was the Jude I didn’t see when I stayed in the friendship category. Possibly this was what other women experienced each time they had sex with him.

Moody, sick asshole.

The door banged against the wall’s frame, I assumed due to him pounding into Vicky, as he grunted and groaned. And, completely ashamed of myself, my eyes watered with tears, my stomach balled into knots from hurt, and I couldn’t admit to myself why. He was just my friend. I shouldn’t have been mad or upset, so full of hurt and crying like a baby. I wasn’t his wife or anything else but his buddy.

But is this what you do to a buddy?

“I guess,” I muttered under my breath, marched to the door, and opened it.

Vicky screamed as she fell back.

Jude cursed as he crashed to the floor with a bang.

“My back hurts.” Vicky rubbed it.

“Good.” I stepped over her and hurried down the hallway.

“What the fuck, Rain?” Jude yelled at me.

I checked behind me to see him grabbing his dick. Unfortunately, I got a good look at his impressive equipment. He was as big as Vicky had claimed, and I hoped I’d injured it somehow.

Maybe it’s broken, and he’ll need a cast and can’t use it for the rest of the summer.

“You could have hurt us!” Jude roared.

“That’s what I was hoping for, dick weed! What did you think I was going to do, lie in bed and listen to you fuck her?” I ran down the stairs. “I may not be your wife or girlfriend, but you don’t have to treat me like I’m nothing!”

I stormed the rest of the way to the front door in angry silence.

Downstairs, Kaden peeked out of the kitchen with a V8 in his hand. “Everything okay?”

“Oh, go ram that V8 up your sick ass.” I threw up my middle finger. “You’re right. I need to stay far away from the both of you.”

He chuckled like the evil bastard he was.

I got out of there like my sanity depended on it, because frankly it did. Jude, Kaden, and even Vicky were on another level. If I personified the uptight category of people in the world, then they were the highest plateau of open-mindedness that I knew I could never reach.
Never.
I believed in boundaries and limits. I thrived on them. Most of all, I could never imagine hurting Jude, no matter what.

I pulled out my phone and dialed Thompson for the second time that morning.
Poor guy.
I made a note to get him a gift this summer.

Chapter 11

Paparazzi-Filled Apologies

T
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blurred as I drifted in and out of sleep. Jude called several times as I slept but didn’t leave a message. An unidentified number showed up on my phone too. I figured it was Kaden. I was surprised Mom didn’t add to my missed calls list. I ignored them all. Once I got up, rather than deal with them all, I shut my phone off and planned my day. I bought a ticket to the opening of a play I really wanted to see, made reservations for one of my favorite restaurants, and headed off to the spa for a mani, pedi, and massage.

I just needed a break from Jude’s world—the parties, drugs, sharing women, and doing or saying anything they wanted, like driving on a beach in a car worth six figures, or traveling down a taboo path just because they needed to see how far it would go, or even having sex with a girl against my guest bedroom door so I would have to listen.

When I saw him again, I would simply explain that having sex with him would not be an option.
That would be after slapping the shit out of him and stabbing a fork into his groin. In fact, I’d better wait until I calm down before I talk to him again.

His rudely fucking Vicky against the door of the room I sat in had kicked my thought process into overdrive. A simple truth filled my head: Jude and I saw sex, respect, and relationships differently. To me, sex was this intimate act, something that you shared with a special person. At least, that was what I imagined for my first time. Sure, maybe later I would become more comfortable with having sex. I’d be more casual and relaxed.

But I hadn’t considered the fact that maybe Jude would sleep with me, then jump up after that special moment, and an hour or so later sleep with Vicky or whoever else walked around their mansion at the time. And naturally, he had every right to do it. We were just friends. But it would still hurt. I became jealous just thinking about it. Maybe I wasn’t being real with my feelings for him. Jude considered me just a buddy. Perhaps I thought of him as something more or even hoped that after we shared that night, that something bigger would flow between us.

I wasn’t insane. I didn’t think we would be girlfriend and boyfriend or that my vagina would be the one to snare him into monogamy when others hadn’t. But, I had imagined that maybe we would make love again and that he’d show me respect, that things would remain the same between us yet change in regards to our relationship becoming deeper.

Oh God. Who am I kidding?

I might have dreamed of us being together a little. I should have left it all alone. Our friendship surpassed anything else in my life. We truly loved each other. We spent all of our time together. There was no need to yearn for more, especially with Jude. I doubted he could even give me more or give the respect that I required.

Just stop thinking about it. Don’t let that great, relaxing massage go to waste.

I took a hot shower after my massage and dressed in a new white sundress I’d bought. Once I finished, I placed my phone to my ear. “Thompson, I’m ready.”

I headed toward the spa’s front exit. There were several secret ways to leave the spa due to the huge celebrity client list that the place boasted, but I’d made sure to keep out of the spotlight. Despite my parentage, I was hardly a celebrity anyone ever recognized, so I left the same way normal people did. A few paparazzi who sat across the street perked up when I opened the door and then sat back down when I stepped out onto the sidewalk, probably figuring I was just a nobody and wouldn’t garner any excitement from a magazine or newspaper.

My dinner reservations started in an hour. I’d planned to drop by the book store, grab a new sci-fi book I’d been excited to read, and check it out while I ate. No complications tonight. No over-sexed fathers or inconsiderate friends. No riled up memories of my dad before his death. Just a yummy meal, a great book, and an awesome play.

The first thing that told me my night wouldn’t go as planned was the fact that Thompson sped away in my mom’s town car instead of jumping out and letting me in. I rushed outside and waved my hands. “Thompson! I’m right here! Where are you going?”

Jude and T-Bone pulled up in front of me in another car. I had never seen this one before, so it had to be new. T-Bone drove and avoided my eyes, which tended to be what he did when he knew Jude was going to do something stupid. He wore a new pair of shades, orange ones with palm trees on them. That was another bad sign. A switch of glasses in the middle of the week signaled a bad mood or a trip.

I crossed my arms over my chest and scowled at Jude. “Did you tell Thompson to leave?”

“I gave him a thousand dollars and told him that T-Bone and I would be driving you around this evening.” Jude jumped out. He wore black pants and a white button down shirt that was open at the top. He could have been stepping onto a runway instead of heading toward me. His blond curls moved with the breeze. “I’m sorry about earlier today. You look beautiful, by the way.”

From across the street, chatter among the paparazzi started up; they must’ve been racking their brains for why Jude looked familiar.

“Thank you for apologizing, but Jude, I already made plans tonight. I’m sorry, but I can’t cancel. Besides, I’m still pissed. All I will do is fight with you right now.”

“Sure.” He bobbed his head as if he understood. “What’re you doing?”

I dug in my purse for my phone so I could tell Thompson to return. “Things that I’m excited about and things that are not with you. I’ll hang out with you next weekend.”

“Next weekend?” He moved my purse away and pulled my hand out of it. “You’re playing with me, right? I’m not waiting until next weekend to see you.”

“Then tomorrow.”

“That won’t work either.”

A crowd of teenagers strolled by. One whispered and pointed to Jude. The girls in the group giggled. They must have recognized him. He put on a fake smile, waved, and gestured for me to get in the car.

I shook my head. “I need a break.”

“From who, me?” He leaned his head to the side. “You need a break from me?”

“I’ll see you later.” I inched back and returned to getting my phone.

“I said I was sorry.”

“I heard, and thank you. I just want to hang by myself.”

“No.”

I paused and glared up at him. “No, what?”

“No, you’re not getting a break from me tonight. No, I won’t wait until next weekend.” Anger was clear in his eyes, but at least he kept his voice down. “You get a break when you go back to Sarasota. You’ve only been in Miami for one damn day. I want to hang out with you.”

“Too bad. I don’t stop what I’m doing for people who try to hurt my feelings.” I pulled my phone out and dialed Thompson’s number.