14. Messes + Mornings

WE LITERALLY JUST HIT 5K READS ON THIS BOOK IN 15 FUGGIN DAYS Y'ALL, I'M DEAD 😭😭💙💙

From the bottom of my heart, thank you for reading, for loving these characters and this story!! I freaking LOVE all your comments (obviously, as I pretty much respond to every single one and probably annoy you with all the notifs LOL so I apologize, I'm just geeking out that people are actually loving this as much as I do!💕 Fr tho, if you want me to stop, just let me know hahaha XD).

As a thank you for being so incredible, encouraging and supportive, AND for 5k reads, I busted my ass to get this next chapter ready for you! So, ENJOY and remember, ILYSM🧡

I dart through Jayce's house as fast as my high-heeled feet will carry me, looking for a place to escape and hide my tears.

Passing dozens of drunk teenagers, I finally find my way into a small room in a far, quiet corner of the house. I duck inside and close the door behind me, making sure to lock it. The second it's closed, tears spill out of my eyes. I can't even stop them, they just flow out with complete disregard to me trying to get them under control.

I feel so fucking dumb, and suddenly much more sober.

Of course he has a girlfriend, and of course it's Layla. I should've known when I saw them at the ball. My stomach clenches as I wonder if Jayce made up all the shit he said on the porch, just to see if it would finally get me to sleep with him.

His reputation would certainly lead me to assume something like that.

I know it's silly to cry over boys, which is why I've never let myself get attached to one before... And yet, somehow, this guy I barely know has me in tears, and it seriosuly sucks.

I guess I had been dumb enough to believe that he wasn't what everyone says about him, that he was better somehow.

After several minutes of feeling sorry for my drunk ass, I wipe my eyes and take in the room I'm currently standing in.

It's small and even though the lights are on, it's still dimly lit. On the wall to my right, there are floating shelves, full of camera bodies and lenses. The other walls are covered in overlapping, beautiful spray paint graffiti. In the far corner, there seems to be a small darkroom setup for developing photos.

I move to a table that's littered in photographs and glance over them. They're stunning. They're a diverse mix of sprawling landscape shots, artistic images of commonplace items and stunning portraits of men and women alike that look like they belong in Vogue.

There's a curious vibe in every single photograph, like the photographer had never seen anything more lovely and noteworthy than what was in front of their lens when they snapped the image.

I begin sifting through the photos, wanting to see more. Each is as magnificent as the last, every photo somehow managing to tell an entire story. Underneath, I come across several first place photography award certificates.

They're all awarded to Jayce Solis.

What? Jayce is into photography?

I never could have guessed that one. The annoying part is, his pictures are really fucking good.

"Fallon!" I hear Jayce suddenly shout from the other side of the door as he wiggles the door-handle. "Open up, I need to talk to you."

My jaw clenches at his voice, anger coursing through me. "Don't you have someone to be with, Jayce?"

"Please," he pleads, sounding rather desperate. "You have to let me explain."

"I don't have to do a damn thing!" I shout, my hands clenching into fists. "Just answer this question," I yell, yanking the door open and glaring at him with every ounce of distaste that I can muster. "Did you ask Layla to be your girlfriend?"

He sighs, "Yes, but–"

"–That's all that matters, Jayce! There is no 'but'! You have a girlfriend, and at the same time, you made me think you really cared about me, which just proves the truth in what I said before: you never have been and never will be a one-woman man."

"You don't get it!" He snarls. "Just let me explain!"

"Fuck explanations!" I shout at him. "Nothing you say is going to make me forgive you. You used me to cheat," I cross my arms and glare him up with intentional judgement in my eyes.

"I know," his eyes soften and he looks at the floor. "I was wrong to do that, regardless of the reasons why."

That surprises me, as I expected him to defend himself. He regains a bit of my respect for his humility. But only a bit.

"This is exactly why we could never let anything else happen between us," I say, not allowing the steamy memories of our dance to resurface. "You're too much drama, and I don't have time for any more bullshit."

"A girl who doesn't want drama?" He looks almost amused, like he's calling me a liar. "I didn't know those existed."

"Meanwhile, you've intentionally manipulated my emotions from the day we met," I accuse, not having any of his blanket statements.

"That was different," the slightest hint of a smirk plays at his lips. "You're cute when I tease you."

"Wow," I say flatly, genuinely in disgusted awe of his level of callousness. "You're an even bigger asshole than your dad."

He suddenly slams his hand against the doorframe so hard that I flinch. "You don't know what the hell you're talking about," he mutters, an intensely serious expression spreading across his face as he slowly growls, "I am nothing like my father."

We glare at each other, both fuming. After a few heavy breaths, Jayce seems to calm down.

"I'm sorry that I hurt you," his voice is strained. "This might be pointless to say, but if you knew the whole story, you'd honestly probably feel sorry for me."

"Congrats," I say sarcastically, rolling my eyes. "You're officially the biggest douche that I know."

He doesn't seem to hear me, though, because he's looking behind me, into the room, and he seems to finally register where we are. "You can't be in here," he says suddenly.

"Why?"

"No one can see this stuff," he mumbles, grabbing my shoulders and roughly pulling me out of the room.

"What stuff? The photos? They're actually good, Jayce. You're really good," I tell him as he closes the door.

He laughs bitterly, "Thanks."

"Is that what you want to do? Do you want to be a photographer?" I question before I can stop myself. I've been dying to get some sort of personal information from him for a while now, and he's never given me anything. No matter how hurt I am, I can't seem to shake the feeling that he has an entire, intriguing world inside of him that I want to explore. I want to learn about him, but I didn't quite know how to get there.

He looks down at me as if I'm an annoying puppy who won't stop yipping at him. "Why do you care?" He asks sharply before spinning on his heel and stalking off.

I swear, he's even more emotional than I am, and I was just crying.

There's no way I could drive home in my current state of drunkenness. As long as I'm stuck here, I might as well make the most of it.

Hurt, conflicted and somehow still wishing I could kiss that damn goalie, I walk in the opposite direction of Jayce, intent on forgetting everything that just happened and finishing out this night with a bang.

~

I feel myself slowly rise to consciousness.

I peek through my eyelashes, but the little bit of light that seeps in is already too much. Slamming my eyelids closed again, I groan, my head pounding. I feel like I'm spinning, and like I want to drink about a thousand gallons of cold water.

I focus in on what I can feel: soft sheets, an impossibly plush pillow... And another body spooning me, their arm wrapped around my waist. My eyes fly open, even though they're burning like hell.

I lift the comforter and look down at myself - I'm completely naked.

Well. Fuck.

I rack my brain, trying to remember a shred of information from last night, and who could possibly be laying in bed next to my naked self. Whoever they are, they grunt in their sleep and roll over, freeing me from beneath their heavy arm.

I take a deep breath and slowly sit up, looking over my shoulder.

Shit.

Fuck.

SHIT.

Jayce is laying on his back, breathing slowly and steadily with his arms lazily sprawled above his head.

My stomach drops and I suddenly feel extremely lightheaded. I gingerly reach out and lift the covers to see... Well, he's wearing a pair of white Calvin's. That's good, right?

I notice a nasty blue and purple bruise above his ribs and wonder how it got there.

Jesus. My head pounds and spins while my eyes and throat continue to burn incessantly.

I glance around the large room we're in - the walls and ceiling are a dark grey, making the white bed we're laying in pop out. There are soccer posters and pictures hanging all over the walls - probably ones that he took, I would guess. Two large floor-to-ceiling windows are letting sunlight stream in. Opposite the bed, the entire wall is dedicated to a huge TV with about four different gaming systems, speakers as tall as me and glass shelves packed with games and movies. There's a plush red couch facing away from the bed and several funky floor lamps. Basically, it's the most pristine, well-decorated dude's bedroom I'd ever seen with my own eyes.

I spot my dress crumpled in the far corner, looking like it was flung there.

Fuck.

My bra and underwear remain to be seen.

What the hell happened last night? I remember dancing with Jayce, then going into the office and...well, you know. I remember finding his darkroom and us yelling at each other, but other than that, I have no fucking clue what happened.

I see a glass of water on my bedside table and reach for it eagerly, downing the entire thing in about two seconds flat.

I set it down gently, afraid to make too much noise and wake Jayce up. I need to get the hell out of here.

Where the fuck is all my shit?

I exhale with relief when I finally spot my phone and Presley's car keys on Jayce's bedside table.

Okay. Here we go.

I slowly shimmy out of the bed, embarrassed as hell. I can feel my cheeks flushing and I'm grateful that Jayce is asleep.

I tip-toe across the large room as silently as possible, my eyes glued to my dress. I finally locate my bra and underwear - they're flung on the couch.

"Nice ass," I hear from behind me, causing my heart to stop. I let out a small scream and dive onto the couch, intent on hiding from Jayce's intruding eyes.

I hear him burst into a fit of laughter as I quickly put my bra and underwear back on. Lifting my head to peer over the back of the couch, I register him getting out of bed with a huge, dorky smile on his lips before a wad of white fabric hits me in the face.

"Oof," I grunt, pulling the clothing off my head. "What's this for?"

"You," his muffled voice says from the depths of his closet.

I look down at the clothes, realizing it's one of his white t-shirts and a pair of black sweatpants. "I have a dress," I say, even though I'm pretty much already sold just from the softness of the fabric.

"Right," Jayce chuckles from inside his closet, like he knows something I don't.

I dart over to my dress and pick it up to discover that it's been ripped so far down the front that it's completely ruined. "How the hell?" I wonder aloud, my mind reeling as I grapple for any memories of last night.

"Wasn't me," Jayce says and I spin around. He's leaning against the doorframe to his closet, his arms crossed over his broad, bare chest. A pair of grey sweatpants are slung low on his hips with his white Calvin's peeking out the top. With his huge smile, toned muscles and messy bedhead, he looks way too fucking handsome. His desire-filled brown eyes trail up my body and his eyebrows knit together, causing a look of pain to cross his face before he averts his eyes and says, "You should really put some clothes on."

My cheeks burn as I quickly dress in Jayce's shirt and sweatpants. They smell like him, clove and perique. "So... What exactly happened last night?" I ask once I'm clothed, hesitant to know the answer.

Jayce finally looks at me again, and his eyes are filled with amusement. He presses his lips together and looks like he's trying to suppress a huge bought of laughter.

"I mean, I woke up next to you, completely naked," I cross my arms and force myself to keep looking at him. "I don't remember anything, but I can only guess what must've happened..."

A seriously pained expression contorts his face, "You really think I'd take advantage of you when you were drunk off your fucking ass?"

"I don't know, did you?" My voice is almost accusatory. I wonder why my suggestion put him off so much.

"No!" He says loudly, looking pissed. He shakes his head and his voice drops to almost a whisper, but his eyes remain angry and forlorn. "I would never."

"Okay, then what happened?" I feel a bit guilty for making him feel bad. I have to admit that the intensity in his response has me wondering what secrets he has trapped inside him.

"I kept an eye on you all night, you were dancing on the bar most of the time," Jayce explains, the laughter returning to his eyes and lips. "It was 4am by the time the party finally wound down and you were so drunk you couldn't even walk straight. There was this douchey wrestler that wouldn't leave you alone," he gestures to the bruise on his ribs.

"Oh, god," I exhale, pressing my fingertips to my temples. Did he really have to beat another person up for me? What is this, the third time it's happened?

He chuckles lightly, "I got the guy away from you and brought you up here to make sure he and none of those other dickheads did anything to you. You asked me to get you some water, so I did, and when I came back, you had literally ripped your dress off and were completely naked, sprawled on my bed."

"Fuck," I say under my breath as my cheeks burn furiously and my heart beats loudly in my ears and throat.

"You, um," he clears his throat and looks at his feet. "You kept asking me to have sex with you and I kept telling you no, but you weren't having it. I eventually got you to agree to go to sleep, but you made me promise to hold you."

"Fuuuuckkk," I practically wail, throwing myself onto the bed and burying my face in the fluffy pillows as my stomach churns. I'm a fucking idiot. I'm never drinking again.

"It was pretty adorable, actually," Jayce teases.

"Fuck you," I groan, my voice muffled from the pillow.

He chuckles and I feel him sit on the bed next to me. "Don't be embarrassed," he says in a soothing voice. "Most women end up begging for me at some point," he cracks himself up.

I glare at him as he doubles over in laughter, clutching at his toned, tanned stomach.

"I hate you," I grumble at him.

"Hey," he sobers slightly, holding his hands up, his eyes gleaming with tears of laughter. "I'd rather you be embarrassed with me than have had drunken sex with some pervy idiot you don't know."

"Well, I didn't ask for your help," I growl at him, speaking out of embarrassment more than anything. Truth be told, I'm grateful that he kept an eye out for me.

"I–" His eyes widen slightly, clearly taken aback by my ungratefulness. "I thought you'd be glad I stepped in, Tink," his voice is genuine. "It seemed like he was annoying you, like you were trying to ditch him. I couldn't let him get his hands on you."

"Thanks for your chivalry, Jayce," I snap. "But why do you give a fuck about who I sleep with?"

He looks at me with his soft, longing brown eyes. "You deserve the best," is all he says.

My insides melt at his words. Damn it. I want to reach out and touch him, wind my fingers in his hair and kiss the living daylights out of him.

But then, I realize that not only is Jayce currently dating the Wicked Witch of Goldcrest, but that I already have other plans for today.

"Shit, what time is it?!" I ask, sitting up straighter. I hope I didn't miss it.

"Almost one," Jayce says. "Why?"

"Fuck," I breathe. "Where's my phone?"

Jayce reaches over to his bedside table and tosses my phone to me. I check the screen to see that I have 12 missed calls from Haven.

"Damn it," I say under my breath, hastily calling him back.

Haven answers on the first ring. "Jesus, Fal! Where the hell are you? I've been calling you all morning!"

"Doesn't matter," I say. "What's the plan?"

"Long story short, he's coming in just to speak with us, but he's going to be there in forty-five minutes. Get home, now," he hangs up.

"What's up?" Jayce asks expectantly as I lower my phone from my ear.

"Get dressed," I order, reaching for Presley's keys. "We're going to meet Tom Jeffers."

~~~

Thank you again for 5k reads for giving my book a chance!!! This is soooo wild. 😍 I'm so freaking grateful for YOU and I really hope you enjoyed this chapter!!

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♥️Have a wonderful day, you lovely, kind, beautiful human, you♥️