A Single Glance

10. Bethany

I feel like I'm drowning. Like I'm in over my head, and I don't know how I ventured into the dark abyss of the ocean, sure to swallow me whole.

I dreamed of him. I dreamed of Jase fucking me, taking me ruthlessly on the sofa. I dreamed of telling him no, only to have him pin me down and take me regardless.

The thought sends a blush of desire to grace my skin, kissing it and leaving a shiver in its wake. The way Jase did last night. Every small touch brought more and more heat, more sensitivity, more life. I felt alive under him.

And I want more. I'm not ashamed to admit I want more of Jase Cross.

Bringing my fingertips to my lips, I remember the kiss I drunkenly stole—thank God I can blame it on the alcohol. He tasted like bad decisions and lust. A sin waiting to happen.

When did my life become like this?

Working every day has kept my thoughts at bay. And now I have nothing to occupy my time. Nothing but a debt to Jase Cross and unanswered questions I have no way of answering on my own.

The only thing I've been working on is looking up every detail I can on Jase Cross. Hardly anything comes up at all about any of his brothers. All I can tell is that they were a poor Irish family, raised in the hellhole that is Crescent Falls. Back then they were nothing. And now they're everything.

There are only four pictures of Jase that I could find. Two had the same woman in them. In one, she's in the background, laughing at something. It's a candid photo and it seems harmless enough. But in the second, her arm is around him. It was taken nearly five years ago, and Jase looks much younger.

I have no fucking clue who she is.

Although, she looks a little like me in this picture, the second one. Only slightly. But the resemblance spreads an eerie chill over my body when I think about it.

Is this who I remind him of?

Was he with her? The fact that I feel any hint of jealousy is ridiculous.

I haven't been touched since college, and I haven't wanted a damn thing from a man since that catastrophe.

Maybe I've always been jealous like this, and I just didn't know it because I had nothing to be jealous of. It only took the strike of a single match to ignite a blazing desire to overtake every piece of me.

Maybe this is what it was like for Jenny. One small change, and everything fell from there. Addiction is like that, isn't it? No matter what your addiction is.

The sound of my phone vibrating on the kitchen counter saves me from the downward spiral of my thoughts.

It's only Laura, checking in again since I didn't respond to her last night.

A few quick texts and I'm free of her prying questions, plus I've booked a date with a bottle of tequila, her, and the outlet mall next weekend.

The phone clatters on the kitchen counter when I toss it down, staring at it and wondering what that night will end up being. A few drinks, and I'll tell her the sordid details.

I know I will.

I can see it unfolding in front of me.

She won't judge me, seeing as how she's had a few one-night stands. She's gone backstage with an out-of-town band before, only to be seen again at 2 p.m. the next day, walking a little funny but smiling so hard that it didn't matter.

It's not the judgment that concerns me. I couldn't care less about what people think of me.

If Laura thinks I'm in danger though, she'll get involved. The very thought makes me let out a slow quivering breath, calming the rush of anxiousness.