Red Flags (13 page)

“So Bradley, angry response to your brother’s
Facebook comments huh?”

I saw Jason’s lip curl, a flash of red
streaked across his face, as he adjusted himself in his chair. He
glared at Chelsea and gently placed his fork down so that it hung
off the side of his plate. All chatter at the table ceased. Chelsea
was unrelenting and didn’t flinch.

“Chels, sore subject, let it go.” I lowered
my head and shook it, while giving her a disciplinary stare.

“Well, I can see that,” she said – still
peering at Jason.

“No, she asked so I’ll answer. I don’t like
my brother, and he knows what he was doing with that comment to
Cara.”

“It was harmless Jason, in fact, he seemed to
be paying you a compliment,” she said, not backing down from the
opportunity to learn something about the wrath buried deep inside
of him.

“Well, I can assure you it had nothing to do
with trying to compliment me,” he said with a deceitful smile
across his face. What the hell was going on with him?

Ryan tapped Mila on the shoulder, whispered
something into her ear, and she nodded profusely.

“Well, thanks for the awesome night Jason,
but we have a drive back up to Carlsbad,” Ryan said in his most
genuine tone. He looked at me, gave me a wink, and then grabbed
Mila by the elbow. Hunter must have taken his cue from Ryan because
he was working on gathering Chelsea and all of their things.

“Do you want to just ride with us Cara?”
Chelsea was trying to pry me out of Jason’s place so that she could
rant about him, I was sure.

“That’s okay, I’ll take her home,” Jason
chimed in, moving closer to me. Why were they making me feel so
uncomfortable? Hunter must have felt the same way, since he was
running his hands through his hair and sighing, trying to give
Chelsea the hint that he was ready to go. She finally took it, gave
me a hug, and moved in front of Jason. Dear Lord please let her
leave peacefully?

“Thanks for last night Jason.”

I sighed loudly, completely relieved that she
was at the very least cordial after the intensity displayed at the
breakfast table. Hunter leaned in and gave me a hug, gave Jason the
guy hug and the two of them were off. I don’t think I had ever been
so thankful to see my friend go, and I knew that I would have to
have words with Chelsea later. Right now though, I had to deal with
this budding volcano that was Jason. He turned to me, grabbed my
hand, and led me back into the living room. He stalked over to the
end table to grab his cell phone and came and plopped down next to
me.

“What is this?” he said, opening the Facebook
page on his cellphone.

I looked, not sure of what he was talking
about, until I saw on the ticker revealing exactly what he was
referring to.

“Oh, the friend request?” I asked, knowing
full well that was what he was fixated on.

“Yes, this damn friend request that is no
longer a request because it’s been approved.”

“Jason, your brother sent me a friend
request, and last night, when I saw it, I added him. I wasn’t even
looking into it when I did it.”

“Well, defriend him. There is no need for you
to have any sort of communication with him.”

“Why are you friends with him if you hate him
so much? And when are you going to tell me what the hell is going
on between the two of you?”

He looked at me, stunned by my newfound
brazenness. “I can communicate with him from afar, but there is no
reason for you to have any correspondence with him. What the hell
are you two going to talk about?”

“Nothing, but if I am going to be with you,
it’s only normal that I get to know your family,” I shouted and my
earlier mood crept back in.

“You can get to know my family, except for
Jacob,” he explained in a much calmer tone. “Chelsea is a nosy
little shit too,” he said, and I could see the anger return to his
eyes as he mentioned her name.

“Yes she is, but she always means well,” I
tried to defend my-oh-so intrusive friend.

“Hunter needs to get her under control,” he
barked, trying but failing to keep his temper to a minimum.

“Well, Hunter has been with her for the past
four years, and he knows how she is. He just tries to balance her
out.” I don’t know why I always felt the need to clarify things for
him, but it just felt so obligatory -- especially where Chelsea was
concerned.

“Poor guy! She’s a fuckin’ case,” and the
angrier he got, the more southern drawl came spilling out. He
stalked out of the living room back to the bedroom, and within a
few seconds, I could hear the distinct sound of the shower water
running.

I slinked down into the couch and turned on
the television. I didn’t even care what was on, I just needed a
distraction. Jason came strolling back into the living room,
wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, and while I
wanted to run and jump on him, I was mad at him – so I stayed
put.

“Want to join me in the shower?”

I thought for a split second that I might
give in, but I decided against it and turned him down. He looked
puzzled, but stalked back into the room and showered. The alone
time gave me time to think. How did we get this deep in a matter of
a few days? With all of the ups and downs, it felt like we had been
dating for a few years. Could I possibly sustain a relationship
like this? Emotionally, Jason could be utterly exhausting. He went
from happy to angry in a matter of seconds; small things served as
ticking time bombs, and he could be rather reclusive when trying to
get information out of him. On the other hand, physically, he was
astounding. I’ve never felt so comfortable with anyone. Was the
physical aspect of our relationship enough to keep us happy? I know
at the beginning, it could be a problem solver, but what about the
fact that he closed down and got angry so often? Do we run to the
bedroom to cure that ill? I was so flustered by my thoughts, not
exactly sure what I was doing with this guy. Was he completely out
of my league, and this was customary for people of his stature? I
had so many thoughts running through my head that they were
starting to weave a web, and now I had a headache.

I walked into the kitchen to get a glass of
water when Jason came walking back in. He was back to being
uptight, so much so that I could see rigid shoulders through his
muscle bearing shirt. He laid my bag and a gym bag of his own down
on the floor, and moved about the kitchen without saying much to
me. Here we go again. Is he mad because I declined the shower, or
is this just his mood at the moment? Why was I even contemplating
the reasoning behind this current mood shift?

“You ready to go? I have to get to
Invictus.”

“Invictus?” I asked, puzzled because I had no
idea what he was talking about.

“Cross Fit gym. I need to go and
workout.”

“Oh… well, yes, I’m ready to go.” I paused to
look at him, and could feel the tension radiating from his body.
What happened to make him so stiff?

<>

The car ride to my apartment was refreshing
on one end because Jason had the top down on the Shelby, but also
frosty due to his silence. I lay back in my seat, allowing the
crisp air to hit my face, and tried not to over analyze his mood,
or lack thereof. It was a little after noon, and the sun was
showing signs of creeping through the clouds, but for the most
part, the monochromatic covering was winning the battle. My mood
closely resembled the climate we were currently blazing through.
The weekend started with me wanting to avoid him, being swept up in
his tornado, riding the temperamental rollercoaster of his
emotions, partaking in sinfully good sex, and now this -- how did
we get here?

I snuck a peek over to him to find him
straight faced and focused on the road. His breathing seemed
hurried, and his grip on the steering wheel was excruciatingly
tight. Something was bothering him, and the disturbing thought that
it could be me stained my mind. Maybe I was just being used as a
trial session, and didn’t meet the criteria? Maybe he just wanted a
weekend romp, and now he was done? The more I tried to analyze what
was going through his mind, the more hurt I became, so I decided it
was best to occupy myself, and I hummed a song that was stuck in my
head.

<>

Surprisingly, Jason took my hand in one of
his hands and my bag in another as he led me to the front door of
my apartment. He still hadn’t said anything to me, and the
awkwardness was without a doubt worthy of sprinting through the
door, and throwing myself onto my bed – allowing my backed up tears
to burst like a dam. As I sifted through my purse, I looked into
his eyes in hopes of finding a glimmer of a softening mood – yet, I
found nothing. We finally made our way inside, and he dropped my
bag off on the floor near my bedroom door. He stepped over to me,
pulled me into his chest, and kissed my hair.

“Thanks for this weekend Cara.”

And with that, he walked out of the
apartment. All that was left of my fragile persona cracked as I lay
sobbing like a baby on my bed. Chelsea heard my cries and came
bursting through the door to my aid.

“Oh my God Cara, what’s wrong?” She looked so
pained, and I knew the way I felt was written all over her face. I
was such a blubbering mess at this point that I couldn’t even put a
coherent sentence together. She sat down on the bed next to me and
gathered me in her lap, rubbing my head, trying her best to soothe
my internal wounds. I finally sat up, bloodshot eyes, runny nose,
and soiled face, and turned to her and poured my heart out.

“Chels, I don’t know what happened. We were
having such a great time. He took me to his house, showed me
around, took me out on his bike, taught me to drive stick, went
shopping, had incredible sex, the nightclub, and now this…” I
stopped because Chelsea’s pupils dilated so far that I thought they
might burst.

“I don’t get him Cara. He’s incredibly hot,
but that is about where it ends for me. He’s so hot and cold, and
that’s tiresome.” I nodded my head in agreement, because in all
actuality, she was right. She continued, “These rich boys think
they can do whatever they want and that their money magically makes
things happen for them. That’s why I told you not to let him boss
you around… his money doesn’t mean shit. What happened anyway?”

“I’m not really sure. You two had your little
tiff this morning, but I thought we were over and done with that.
You guys left, and he was angry because I friended his brother on
Facebook.”

Chelsea held up her hand to stop me. “More
shit with his villainous brother? There’s something weird about
that Cara. Did you friend request him?”

“No. Of course not. I only approved it, which
apparently is a cardinal sin.”

“Did you ask him what the deal is? It’s one
thing to not like your brother, but he has an unhealthy level of
pure hatred for him, and I think if you’re going to be with him,
you need to figure that out.”

“That’s the thing, I tried. He said it was of
no importance and that I could get to know his family, just not his
brother. Besides, I don’t even know if we are together.” The
thought stung, and I tried to move on, but Chelsea’s radar had gone
up.

“Wait a minute. After your whirlwind weekend,
you don’t know if you’re going to be together? What the hell is
going on?”

“Well, he never said he didn’t want to be
with me, in fact, he never said anything. The entire car ride down
here was in pure silence. It was so strange. And, once we got here,
he walked me in, kissed my head, and left.”

Chelsea was shaking her head in sheer
disbelief. Talking this out with her had made me feel a little
better, but I had too many unanswered questions that made me feel
inadequate.

“Where was he going after he dropped you
off?” Chelsea asked, startling me out of my reverie.

“Invictus.”

“The Cross fit gym?”

“Yes, you know of it?”

“Yeah, Hunter’s friends work out there. Give
him a couple of hours, and hopefully after he’s had time to blow
some steam, he’ll call you.”

I finally managed an inkling of a smile, and
lay down on my bed. My bed reminded me of him, and the first night
we spent together, but I pushed that out of my mind as I fell into
a deep sleep.

<>

My shaken emotional state must have been what
kept me asleep for four and a half hours, because when I awoke, I
could hear Mila, Ryan, and Chelsea laughing in the living room,
followed by a cell phone full of text messages and missed calls. I
anxiously sifted through the list of missed calls and there were
two from my parents, one from Ryan and one from Mila – nothing from
Jason. I filtered through the text messages and there were a couple
from Ryan, asking if I was okay, one from Mila, and one from Chase
– still no correspondence from Jason.

I staggered out of my room, not entirely
ready to face the world, but mustered up the courage to do so
anyway. All three sets of eyes left the television screen and
focused on me, with Ryan jumping out of his seat on the couch to
take me in his arms. His compassion was welcomed, but brought me to
tears. He stood holding me, and just allowed me to cry into his
shirt. When I composed myself, I stepped back, wiped my eyes and
nose, and took a seat on the couch next to the girls.

“Pinks, what happened?” Mila’s face showed a
mix of horror and surprise.

“Long day with Jason… I’m a ball of confusion
right now, Chels didn’t tell you?”

Chelsea pretended to be wounded by my
question, “ahem, I don’t run my mouth with everything.”

I smiled weakly at her and mouthed I know,
and she seemed to be placated by the simple gesture.

“All we know is Chelsea did have her big
mouth on full display at breakfast this morning, and we bounced.
True enough Ryan did have to get to Carlsbad… we should have taken
you with us.”