Jo
"WHAT?"
"You want it, you take it," he says firmly. I look at him squarely and realize he's serious about it.
"Rightâ right now?" I stammer and he nods.
"Right now. I asked you to say whatever you wanted and you want this shirt. So take it, Jo. Right now."
I might fall into an everlasting sleep with the way he's looking at me. I feel a little dizzy and I can't tell if it's because of glucose or arrhythmia.
"But you'll be shirtless." I say.
"I have a jacket in my bag. I can wear that to my car and change," he shrugs. The coarse fabric of his jeans is abrasive against the sides of my thighs and strangely enough, I don't find it annoying. "I've got a bunch of shirts in there."
I slowly expel a volume of air away from my lungs and sit straighter on the table before looking down at his abdomen and sharply moving my gaze from his belt. It's not like I'm going to do anything with him. I just need to take his shirt off. It's not a big deal. I'll just imagine him as Drew and everything will go fine.
Except I can't do that. Once I lift the hem of his shirt and my thumbs graze hard muscles on his stomach, he tenses immediately and electricity flows from his skin to mine, hitting me squarely in the chest. I look up at him and he smirks devilishly. "Problem?"
"Not at all." I respond, feeling thirsty for some reason.
"Good. Take your time."
I look back down and slowly drag the shirt upwards, as if scared my fingers would break if I try any harder. There are a few more tattoos on his torso than I'd expected. Some are scattered across his ribcage and there's a writing across his chest. It's not English so I can't tell what it says. "Lift your arms," I tell him and he does, without breaking his gaze.
I lean upwards and drag the rest of the fabric over his head, ruffling his hair in the process and I'm finally able to breathe when it's completely comes off him. His necklace dangles around his neck. "There," he says, smiling a bit. "It's yours now."
I unabashedly stare at his body, his chest and his arms and all of the ink sprawled on his skin. His eyes follow my movements and his thumb touches the skin of my lap.
"What does it say?" I ask, nodding my head in the direction of the writing on his chest.
"I can't breathe."
I look up at him. "Why?"
"The day I got it, I couldn't breathe." That's it. He doesn't shed more light on his cryptic words. I don't pressure him. Instead, my eyes move to his shoulder and I observe a scar tissue that runs across the blade and disappears behind. It's deep and it's a very visible flaw that hostilely mars the skin on his shoulder. Concern washes over my face before I say anything and my brows furrow as I stare at it. He's watching me but he doesn't say a word.
I'm not sure what to ask first but I have so many questions and it takes every ounce of self control not to touch it. "Does it hurt?" I ask without taking my eyes off it.
"Occasionally," he responds and then his fingers come up to my chin and he moves my face away from his shoulder so that I'm staring straight at him.
"You've gotten what you wanted," he says, fingers still holding my chin upwards while staring at me. "I'm assuming I'm forgiven?"
I don't respond immediately. My eyes move from his, to his nose and the dark beauty spot that exists inches away from his mouth. I've never been within such a close range with him and it makes me feel nervous all over. He's incredibly handsome.
His grip slightly tightens around my chin and I'm forced to look into his eyes again. "Yes or No?"
The door bursts open and I flinch like I've been caught red-handed, committing a heinous crime. Amanda walks in and freezes, eyes widening as she does so. Flynn's hand drops away from my face and I suck in a harsh breath as I quickly slide off the table. He's fire and I've burnt to a crisp.
"Whoa," Amanda exclaims, her big brown eyes darting between two of us while she remains rooted on the spot next to the door.
"Was I interrupting something? I could go back if you want," she says, her eyes gleaming with mischievous excitement and I discreetly throw Flynn'sâmy shirt into my bag and move towards her. It's easy to assume something was going on considering the fact that she met him shirtless and right between my legs. Anybody would be quick to assume anything.
"Uh, no. You've got it all wrong," I say, clearing my throat and adjusting the strap of my bag. Internally, I'm not okay and I think it's because of nerves but I think it might also be because Flynn is looming right behind us.
"Have I though?" she teases. "I feel so bad right now. I should have come, in like, thirty minutes."
"Amanda," I grit painfully as I move closer to the door and give her a warning glance. "It's not what it looks like." She's having too much fun with this.
I turn around and find Flynn looking down at his jacket as he zips it all the way up. He meets my stare with an amused look on his face and I blush. I can't help it. "See you guys," I awkwardly say and then I turn around and speed-walk out of the club while my heart soars in my ears. I rub my hand on my chest, my face on fire as I move closer and closer to the double doors of the hallway.
"Jesus, relax," I silently scold myself as I approach the exit. "It's just Flynn. The odd number. A pain in the ass."
That calms me a little and then my phone buzzes with the alarm I'd set before leaving home this morning. It's five minutes to the time Daniel set for coffee and I take a deep breath and smile to myself. This should definitely go well and make me forget about everything that just happened five minutes ago.
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DANIEL CORRIGAN DOESN'T show up. I'm seated on one of the plush blue seats at Beans Only and I feel like a bride who was just abandoned at the altar. As I read through the words in my novel and sip from my fifth cup of coffee, I realize that none of them stick. The words don't register and my eyes go over a line eight times before I give up. I have never been stood up in my life but I've never really been involved with a lot of boys in my life so I guess that's another reason why.
It's funny because I chose a booth at the far end of the cafe, the one that has these beautiful ivy flower pots littered around it to make it seem like some sort of date. I'd argued with Flynn that it wasn't but somewhere in the deepest part of my mind, I assumed it was one. I'd worn a pretty dress this morning and styled my hair but as soon as the minute hand struck the number 12 on my watch and I'd realized I'd wasted two hours of my life in this cafe, sitting in front of an empty chair, I'd come to the conclusion that I dressed up for me and not for a boy. And that's why I've stopped checking my phone to see if he'd text me or not or call to tell me why he couldn't make it.
I'm alone but I'm embarrassed as hell. Did he just decide not to show up? Does he think I'm not attractive enough? Am I that forgettable? The answer to the last question would probably be yes. My mind is going through different reasons why he may have stood me up today and it's depressing enough, that I crush my empty cup of coffee in my hands and find the wrinkling plastic entertaining.
My mood is dampened but it even becomes worse when a text appears on my phone. Flynn was right. Craig Johnston had succeeded in getting my number from God knows where and hasn't stopped spamming me for a week now. I've blocked him twice but somehow he manages to contact me with another number.
Unknown number: Blocking me won't work, Jo. I always get what I want.
That's his latest text. He sounds like a crazed stalker and I'm definitely not in the mood for his silly games right now.
Jo: You sound pathetic. STOP TEXTING ME.
For special effect, I add, I HAVE A BOYFRIEND.
That's a little ironic, considering the situation I'm presently in and I roll my eyes at myself. His text comes in seconds later. He attaches a laughing emoji to his message.
Unknown number: I don't believe that shit you're cooking up with Cauley. If it's an effort to make me jealous, then I'm certainly amused. Call me when you're ready.
I scoff and block the number. Who the hell does he think he is? And what exactly does he want from me? I don't seem to get it and now that I look back at it, I can't believe I used to be attracted to this crazy douchebag.
I shut my phone off and get to my feet before making my way to the counter. Jace shoots me a sympathetic look when I lean against the counter and order a tub of chocolate chip ice-cream and mentally calculate the number of units of insulin I'll have to give myself to indulge in this sugary goodness.
"Your date didn't show?" He asks carefully and I shake my head as I grab the tub. It's funny because I'm ordering ice-cream and feeling like someone dumped me.
"It wasn't a date," I grumble to myself and drop a tip into the jar before turning around and leaving. I don't look up as I dip the small, plastic spoon into the frozen food and shove a scoop into my mouth. I also don't look up as I open the door to the cafe but I do when I step onto the sidewalk and crash into a solid chest. Carter Reed is staring at me wide-eyed as I narrow my gaze at him. Then very slowly, I watch my tub of ice-cream tumble to the ground and splatter against the brick road.
I want to cry but I also want to punch a hole in his face. Granted, I wasn't particularly watching where I was going but I'm too annoyed to put any blame on myself right now.
"You've ruined my life," I dramatically spit as I glare at him.
He takes a step back and raises his hands like I've told him he's under arrest. He might as well be. "I'm sorry. I wasn't looking, I'll get you a new one."
That's when I notice three other boys hanging around him, all wearing Lakeville High's football varsity jackets which means Flynn should be around here, somewhere. I swallow once I see his car parked next to the curb and then I stare at all of them.
"Hold on, you're Josephine right?" Carter asks and turns to look at the redhead next to him, who nods in agreement.
I fold my arms and raise a brow. "Maybe."
A dark-haired guy speaks up. "Debate club Josephine?" He asks curiously.
Carter smirks when I nod but it drops when I shoot him a glare. "When am I getting my ice-cream?"
"Right now," he says and quickly disappears inside the shop. I narrow my eyes at the three of them who uncomfortably shuffle on their feet.
"How'd you know who I am?"
"FlyâOof," the last one groans as soon as the redhead elbows him in the ribs.
"It's a small town," the redhead says instead and proceeds to stretch his hand for a handshake. His eyes are a watery blue. He reminds me of Ed Sheeran. "I'm James."
I warily take his hand. The dark-haired guy speaks. "Tony and this idiot is Jamal," he says gesturing to the guy who was elbowed.
Jamal glares at Tony before flashing me a panty-dropping grin. He's oddly familiar. "Nice to meet you," he flirts, shaking my hand and winking at me. I smile a bit because I've never seen such a ridiculous wink in my entire life. It looked as if he was about to have a seizure. "I've heard a lot about you," he continues and doesn't drop my hand. Ah, I remember him now. He was the one who dropped his pants in the cafeteria the other day.
"Oh?"
James, the cute redhead and Ed Sheeran lookalike sighs and Tony rolls his eyes. "Cauley," he hollers and then I turn my head and see Flynn engaged in what seems like a serious argument with another football player.
"What?" He snaps without turning to look at us. He's still wearing that jacket from earlier today but there's a black Tee underneath now. Heat rises to my cheeks unconsciously and I look away and gently pry my hand from Jamal's sweaty grip.
This time James speaks instead. "Jamal's flirting with your girl."
My eyes widen as I watch the imaginary words flow out of James' mouth. "I'm notâdid Flynn tell you that?"
"What are youâ" he trails off as soon as he turns around and meets the scene five feet away from where he's standing. The guy he's arguing with also turns to look at us. I look away from Flynn's surprised expression immediately and fold my arms. Just then, the door behind me opens and Carter saves the day by coming out with two tubs of ice-cream in his hands.
"Thanks," I say, desperately wanting to get out of this situation in front of me. There are too many boys around and they surround me like a herd of sheep. I grab the two tubs from his hands and ignore the way his mouth falls open.
"The other one'sâ"
"Bye." I turn around and leave their bubble before stepping further away from them.
"Wait, Debate Club Josephine. Can I have your number?" Jamal hollers and Flynnâwho's standing with them nowâsmacks him upside the head with an annoyed look on his face while Tony and James snicker.
"See you later, Jo," James smiles and the rest wave at me before walking into the cafe. I'm a little stunned as I linger on the sidewalk and then Flynn walks over to meet me.
"Hey," he says as soon as he's close enough and I internally try to get rid of every image of his shirtless self from my head. "How'd your date go?"
I take a scoop of ice-cream into my mouth before responding. "Really good."
He smirks. "Oh yeah?"
I nod, trying to look nonchalant and all. "Yeah."
He looks around and shoves his hands into the pocket of his jeans. "I don't see him anywhere. The boys were with you at the front of the shop, meaning he was supposed to be around you somewhere but I'm assuming that's not the case?"
I clear my throat and look away from him. "Yeah, um, he had to leave early cos of a family emergency."
He looks amused. "A family emergency?"
"You heard me."
Mock sympathy flashes through his eyes. "That must suck."
"Yeah I guess," I mumble and glare at him when he snatches the second tub of ice cream from my grip.
"So what'd you guys talk about?" He asks, shoving a spoon into his mouth. He leans back on his heels and licks his lips as he awaits my response.
I scoff. "It's not like it's any of your business."
"Right? Confidential and all," he beams and then he sighs. "He stood you up, didn't he?"
My face is hot all of a sudden. "Iâwhat? No, off-course not. We talked about books and um, ponies and stuff."
He chuckles. "You're not a very good liar, Jo."
I sigh noisily and turn my reddened face away from him. Embarrassment courses through my veins as I take another spoon of ice-cream into my mouth. "It doesn't matter. It's not like I waited or anything. I had stuff to do as well so I decided to stay anyway."
He doesn't buy it. He's just staring at me as I speak and his eyes are roaming around my face. "He's a dick." He tosses his empty tub of ice-cream into the trash and I nod in agreement. Maybe Daniel's not so nice after all or maybe he really did have an emergency to attend to and couldn't find the time to text me. There I go, making up excuses for people again.
Flynn steps a little closer and glances at my mouth. "I thought you didn't like chocolate," he says, swiping his thumb over the corner of my bottom lip and wipes off the ice-cream, I didn't know was hiding there, with it.
"I lied because you were being annoying."
That corner of my mouth tingles as soon as his thumb leaves it and my heart really does skip a beat, when he takes his thumb into his mouth, eyes never leaving mine. He sucks it once and then he brings it out and grins.
"Tastes even better."
I look away and pretend like I'm not slowly dying on the inside. "You talk about me with your football buddies."
It's his turn to blush. "Ignore whatever Jamal told you, or any of the boys really."
"Why?"
He doesn't respond. He looks around and gestures to his car that sits at the curb. "Come on, I want to take you somewhere."
I frown and although curious, I lie. "I have to go to work."
He shakes his head teasingly. "You're off today. It's my mum's store, remember?"
I sigh and fold my arms. "How can I be sure that you won't murder me and sell my body parts to an organ harvester? It's not like we're friends or anything."
"We're not enemies either, so that's something."
"Don't push your luck, Flynn or I'll return your shirt."
He gives me an exaggerated nod while smiling. "We both know you won't. Come on, get in the car."
I unfold my arms and stare at him, trying to read his thoughts. For some reason, I think he's trying to make up for my non-existent date and it makes me smile a bit.
"Don't overthink it," he says, leaning closer to smoothen the frown lines on my forehead. "If I wanted to murder you, I'd have done that a long time ago."
"Fine," I say. "Only because you begged."
He laughs and opens the car door before I slide in. "Let's go with that."
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