Worth It (9 page)

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Authors: Nicki DeStasi

Tags: #new adult

BOOK: Worth It
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Gah!
I need to stop overthinking everything, or I’m going to drive myself insane.

He opens the door for me, and I almost gawk at the sweet gesture. I’ve
never
had a door opened for me, and I give him a genuine smile in thanks. My heart warms a little more, but my brain tells my heart to cut the mushy crap before it ends up shattered—again. I use the grab handle to help myself make the distance into the cab. I flinch when sparks sizzle through me as his hands grip my hips while he’s helping into the truck. Once I’m seated, he shuts the door and saunters around the front of his truck. He climbs in beside me and starts the ignition.

“Where to?” he asks, shifting his weight to look at me.

Temporarily blinded by his heart-stopping stare, I stutter, “Uh, Groton.”

“Okay, Groton, it is.” Turning to see out the rear window, he slings his arm around my headrest as he starts to reverse.

With his hard body so close, my chest rises and falls as my breathing speeds up. I clench my fists, so I don’t do something stupid, such as grabbing his face and kissing him—hard.
Not that I’d ever be that aggressive.

After I give him a few directions, he asks, “So, you’re from Groton, right?”

“Yeah.”

I glance at his profile, and he peeks at me. He flashes that damn smile, and I blush.

“How did you know?” I ask.

“My uncle told me when I asked about you.”

“You asked about me?” My tone rises in surprise.

He shrugs. “Yeah, I saw you leaving the shop earlier. Shirley is so small, and I haven’t seen you before, so I was curious.”

“Oh.” My heart rate picks up, and I tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

I don’t know how to feel about him asking about me. He’s so fucking hot, and he’s sweet. Not to mention, he offered to help me out, and he doesn’t even know me. But I just
can’t
want him.

“Don’t be so nervous,” he says, drawing me out of myself.

My lips tip up on one side, and I feel myself relax.

“So, twenty questions?” he asks.

I half smile at the typical get-to-know-you tactic, and I nod.

“Okay, I’ll start. Favorite movie?”


The Princess Bride
.”

“I do not think it means what you think it means.”

My lips spread into a grin, remembering the scene he quoted. “What’s your favorite?”

“Probably
The Terminator
movies—minus that fourth one that came out a couple of years ago. That one was fucking stupid.”

I smile at his bold tone. He reminds me a lot of my friends.

Come with me if you want to live,” I say, using my best Arnold voice.

He chuckles. “Okay, your turn to ask.”

My lips scrunch to the side. “Favorite food?”

“Steak.”

A giggle escapes me. “I guess I can see that.”

He looks to be
all
man, so steak makes sense.

He tilts his head and smirks at me. “What’s yours?”

I bite my bottom lip. “Carrot cake.”

“That’s not a food! Food has meat in it!”

I laugh and feel myself relax. “It’s definitely a food! All that sugary goodness with cream cheese frosting…mmm.” Closing my eyes, I moan, thinking about the sweet taste melting on my tongue.

His throat clears, and I glance at him to see him swallow hard as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

“Um, favorite band?”

The way he changed his demeanor makes me frown slightly before I recover and say, “I don’t know. Probably Linkin Park. I love rock, but they have a rap thing going for them, too. It’s like a guilty pleasure because they’re kind of a rocker no-no.”

I glance at him to see him suppressing his laughter. He peeks over at me quickly, and a full-blown panty-dropping grin flashes before he returns his attention to the road.

“Guilty pleasure, huh?”

Flushing, I duck my head to stare at my wringing fingers. If I’m honest with myself—and I’m not going to be—I’m also heated from hearing
pleasure
roll off his tongue. My heart rate picks up, and a shiver runs through me.

“Cold?” he asks as he reaches over to turn up the truck’s heat.

I laugh nervously. “A little,” I lie. “What’s your favorite?”

“What?”

His surprised voice catches me off guard, and my eyebrows pull together.

“Your favorite band—what is it?” I repeat.

“Oh.” He chuckles nervously. “Mötley Crüe.”

“What did you think I meant?”

When he grins, he looks a little guilty. It dawns on me that his head was still stuck on the
guilty pleasure
comment. I try to suppress it, but nervous laughter tumbles from my mouth. The whole thing isn’t even that funny, but now that it has escaped, I can’t find the lid to keep the crazy giggling from pouring out. The ridiculousness of the situation just makes me laugh harder. I’m sitting next to this sexy stranger who makes my body throb. He’s thinking of
pleasure
, and I’m
laughing
at him.

Nervously releasing my hair from its tie, I run my fingers through it, wiggling them when I encounter a tangle, as I struggle to calm down. Once I regain my composure, I tuck my hair behind my ears. “Sorry. I wasn’t trying to laugh…” My voice trails off when I catch a glimpse of his blank expression.

Swallowing hard, he averts his stare to the windshield as he tightens his grip on the steering wheel without responding.

“Sorry,” I say again softly. I follow his lead to stare out my own window, watching the trees and houses blur by. My heart sinks. I can’t believe I
laughed
in his face.
God, I’m such a fucking moron.
“Shannon’s house is on the next street on the left,” I tell him after several silent moments.

The only response I get is the click of his blinker and the turn of the wheels.

“It’s the third house on the right.”

He slows down in front of Shannon’s little blue ranch house, which is surprisingly dark.

“It is Friday, right?”
Why isn’t anyone here?

“Anna, can I say something real quick without sounding creepy?”

I turn my head back to him, raising an eyebrow, as I try to suppress my laughter. “Well, with an opening like that…”

He smirks and rolls his eyes. “All right, point taken.” He turns serious again.

I’m nervous about what might come out of his mouth. I’m positive that I’m not going to like it.

“I’m gonna put it out there. If you like it, you can take it. If you don’t, send it right back.”

My laughter interrupts him. “Oh my God, did you just quote
Anchorman
?”

He tries to hold back his laughter, but he can’t. “Yeah, I think I did.” He grins. “Should I finish the quote?”

My laughter dies abruptly, and my pulse quickens. The next words in that scene are “I want to be on you.” Part of me—the part that is tingling and making my panties wet—wants to crawl on top of him right now. But the other part feels like I’ve been slapped on the face. I thought we were getting along, but he just wants sex. I want to be more than that.
Even if I’m not.
I guess it’s a good thing that I didn’t want to get involved, but I still feel the stab to my chest.

He must see the look on my face because he rushes to say, “Shit, that’s not what I meant. I mean, it is, but—”

“It’s okay,” I say, cutting him off. “I should check to see if Shannon is home.” I open the door and jump down from his truck into the cool October weather before I change my mind and crawl onto his lap.

Just before I push the door closed, I hear him mutter, “Fuck.”

 

 

“Fuck.”

I jump out of my truck, so I can catch up with her. The more I talk to her, the more I like her, and so I act like a dipshit.
Awesome. But seriously?
When she was talking about pleasure and then playing with her hair, I just wanted some road head. Not that I would ask for it, but that was where my head went, and it didn’t want to be anywhere else.

“Anna, wait.”

“Really, Jed, don’t worry about it. Thank you for the ride.” She tries to blow me off with a tight smile, and then she knocks on the door.

Fuck.
“Anna, I was trying to be funny, but I really wanted to ask if—”

The door flies open, the lights flip on, and shouts of “Surprise!” and “Happy birthday!” interrupt me.

My jaw drops. “Today is your birthday?”

Her mouth drops open, and then she manages to say, “It was three days ago.”

A brunette gives her a bear hug. I size up the other three guys who step up and give her hugs. When the third one puts his lips on her head, I want to punch him.
Who the fuck is this jackass?

“Who’s that?” the chick whispers loudly when she notices me.

It’s funny because I can hear her.

Anna turns her head to look at me, and then she looks back to the girl. “Oh, um, Shannon, this is Jed. Jed, this is Shannon.”

Shannon smiles and says, “Hi, it’s nice to meet you. This is my husband, Chad.” She points to a rocker type of dude. “And this is Aaron and Jared.” Jared is the touchy ass-clown. “Do you want to come in? It’s cold out here.”

I want to high-five the chick. “Sure,” I say and follow everyone inside.

I take note of the wide-eyed what-the-fuck look Anna shoots Shannon.

When we enter the small living room, the first thing I notice is that the cake reads,
Happy Birthday, Savannah
.

“Your name is Savannah?” I assumed her name was just Anna.

“How does her
date
not know her full name?” douche bag asks.

I don’t like this asshole already.

Anna blanches and snaps, “You know I hate my full name.”

I guess so. Weird.

She recovers and mutters, “And he’s not my date.”

I want to wipe the smug smirk off of Jared’s face.
Why am I so territorial over this chick? I’m not usually like this.

“Oh. Then, how do you guys know each other?” Chad asks.

“My car needs another day to be fixed, so he gave me a ride. He’s Donnie’s nephew.”

“Do you need a ride home tonight?” Jared offers.

“No,” I bite out. “I’m giving her a ride.”

Anna’s brow furrows. “You don’t have to stick around and wait for me if you don’t want to. Jared can give me a ride home if you need to go.”

Jesus Christ, woman, throw me a fucking bone here!
“I really don’t mind. I kind of wanted to talk to you anyway.” I smile encouragingly, praying she won’t push this now in front of everyone.

Instead, she smiles, and her cheeks twinge pink as she nods. I stare down at her. She’s so damn beautiful, but she looks vulnerable, too. That look makes me want to protect her.

“All right,” Shannon interrupts, “time to blow out the candles!”

Anna blinks out of the daze we were both in and rolls her eyes. “Guys, I’m not ten. I’m twenty-two.”

Good. I’m learning more about her without having to pry it from her.

“Cut the complaining, and just do it. Everyone blows out candles,” Shannon counters.

“Fine, but no singing.”

“Stop being a bah-humbug. Of course, we’re singing.” Shannon frowns at her.

Anna rubs her face and groans. “Sorry. Bad day.” Her face is still covered.

“What happened?” Shannon asks

Anna glances over at me quickly. Her face reddens slightly, but she looks away.

Me?
What the hell did I do?

“Nothing,” Anna says finally.

“Did Sam call—again?” Shannon pushes, her tone sharp.

Anna shoots her a wide-eyed, brow-lifted, lips-pinched, angry look that I think is meant to tell Shannon to shut up, but honestly, Anna looks fucking adorable, and I want to laugh. The only thing that stops me is the mention of Sam. I don’t know who the fuck he is, but I have a feeling that I’m not going to like him.

“What?” Shannon asks.

“Sweetie, I don’t think she wants to talk about him in front of everyone,” Chad says.

Shannon flushes and mouths,
Sorry
, to Anna and peeks in my direction.

Damn.
I’d like to know who the fuck this Sam guy is.
Patience, cricket, patience
.

“Cake,” Chad says, prompting his wife.

“Right!” Shannon squeals. “I’ll go and get the candles.”

“I’ll help you,” Anna says.

“I don’t—” Shannon starts.

Anna cuts her off with another look.

“Right. I definitely need help.”

Anna rolls her eyes again but follows behind Shannon silently. I watch Anna’s delicious ass until she rounds the corner. The guys and I shoot the shit while the girls are in the kitchen, and they seem cool—minus the shithead. When the girls reenter the living room, Shannon is urging Anna to do something, but Anna is telling her to drop it. When they notice they have an audience, they snap their mouths shut.

Everyone moves to grab a seat, so I do the same, and it takes every ounce of self-control not to rip Jared’s arms off and beat him with them. The little shit sits down next to Anna and smirks at me as he drapes his arm around her shoulder. I fume as I end up snagging a spot next to Aaron. I watch the interactions around me, and I want to laugh when it hits me. Jared is stuck in the friend zone.

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