I was drunk.
Okay, maybe not. If I was drunk, I wouldn't be having rational thoughts right now. I was almost drunk. Not there yet, but three more sips and I would be drunk.
It was so fucking sad that I could not get myself drunk after having three glasses of wine. I needed it. I desperately needed it. After the day I had, I wanted to wallow in my sadness and drown in it.
There have been moments in my life where I felt swept and consumed by hopelessness. That feeling where you have no total control over what's going on with your life, and you just sit there and let it happen. You watch everything you have ever built or everything you cherish crumble in front of your eyes. And the feeling you get at that sudden moment where everything hits you that this was it. This was where it would end and you have no choice but to accept it. That hopelessness was gut wrenching.
It's been exactly an hour since I had decided to let go of my dreams. Thinking about it made it even more real. I thought I had time. I thought I could save it, but I ended up proving what others thought about me. I could have found the easiest way out, you know? Take the money my parents offered. Accept the help given to me, but I refused to accept any help. I wanted to do it on my own. I wanted to prove not only to them, but to myself.
I forgot about my little curse. With me, nothing ever lasted. I could never hold on to anything. I should never have been confident that I could escape my curse. It's always been like this-I get what I wanted, and every time I was happy, I would end up having nothing. The thing I loved the most would slip out of my fingers.
I remembered the story Jason told me when we were kids. It was Halloween, and we went out trick or treating. I couldn't remember it, of course, but my brother remembered that night. I was only five. There were a lot of shit I couldn't remember about my childhood. Before I met Jesse, things were easier to forget. After meeting him, I remembered every single day of my life. During that Halloween, I tagged along with my brother and his friends. Now, because I couldn't remember that night, I couldn't be sure of what happened. Jason told me I met a witch who cursed me to never keep anything I loved. Of course, when I grew up, I called it bullshit. Then I started losing the things I loved the most. Until I realized I couldn't hold on to anything.
I wasn't sure what I felt right now. Sick. Defeated. Sad. Aggravated. I was really sad and hurt. Leaning back against my chair, I shut my eyes and took a few deep, cleansing breaths. Every few inhales, I would slug directly from the wine bottle, tilting my head back until I emptied the last drop. I tried to swallow, but my mouth was dry. I needed water. Dragging myself to the kitchen, I filled a glass with water and rehydrated myself. On my way back, I decided sitting at home wasn't the ideal place to lift my spirits up. I needed to go to a bar. I decided to go to a bar.
My Uber driver found me sitting on the staircase of my apartment building. He didn't care that I was half drunk and still going to a bar-I refused to accept I was drunk. My phone buzzed in my purse. I was glad I could remember to grab my purse.
"Hello?" I said sluggishly. My cheek was pressed against the window, watching the buildings, cars, and people blur past me.
"Are you drunk?" came his instant reply.
"It depends." I hiccuped, then chuckled. "A little bit, yeah. What do you want, Jesse? I'm busy-" to the driver I said, while the phone was still pressed to my ears. "Can you turn down the radio a little?"
"Where are you?"
"On my way to a bar," I returned tiredly.
Jesse swore. "You're drunk and you're still planning on going to a bar? Fucking Christ, Iris, are you out of your mind?" he seethed. "Tell the driver to turn the car around and go home."
"No!" I rushed out. "I'm sad and I don't want to go home. Ugh, leave me alone." I hung up the call before he could say anything back. I made sure to turn it off in case he decided to be annoying and call back.
We were halfway to the bar when I changed my mind and made the driver turn around, leaning back against the seat. It didn't take long before he drove me home. When we got there, I walked out of the car and turned around.
This is not my house.
"This isn't where I live," I whined, staring at the house in front of me. I had never been so tired in my life. I just wanted to hit the bed and sleep.
"This is the address you gave me, ma'am," the driver retorted.
Shit. Fuck. Shit. Fuck.
I saw Jesse running out of his house and realized why the fucking house looked familiar to me. Before I could get back inside the car for a quick escape, Jessie had already reached me. He grabbed my forearm and hurled me out of the car. I didn't know what he said to the driver because my head was too busy spinning to comprehend anything.
And for the love of god, I didn't know what I was doing on the ground.
He lifted me to my feet, but I pushed him away to avoid any contact. Contact with Jesse was dangerous, especially when I was drunk. No, half drunk. I looked him up. He was dressed as if he had somewhere to go. His car key was in his hand.
"Are you okay?" He tried to touch me to look at me, but I staggered back.
"Don't...come any closer. I'm fine." I waved him off, staggering to the side. "I don't know why I'm here." I pushed him away and tried to walk past him to go back. Go back where? Home? How? I could barely keep myself upright without wanting to hit the ground. "I don't know why the driver brought me here, but I want to leave. I'm leaving."
Jesse caught me before I took more than three steps. He flattened me against his chest. "You're not leaving," he declared tightly. "You're not in the right state of mind to go home alone. Jesus, what the fuck happened to you?"
I felt tears springing into my eyes. It was an effort holding them back, not wanting him to see this side of me. My weakness was not for him to see. "Shut up. Just...shut up. You're so loud in my ears."
"Then you shouldn't have gotten drunk."
I tried to push his chest again, but ended up falling right into him. His arm caught me before I could fall, securing around my waist. Jesse held me up against his chest. His warm chest. He was warm, and he smelled good. Oh, so good that I could stay right there. I could snuggle against him and everything would feel alright.
No!
I shoved him away, my thoughts more frightening than anything I had encountered. I faced Jesse, staring up at him in my drunk glory. He didn't attempt to come closer or touch me again. He watched me, hands gripping his hips. His expression gave him a ravaged look. His eyes were penetrating as he regarded me. His lips were thin, turning slightly upward at the corners as he weighed me down with his gaze.
Lifting a finger, I tried to be angry, but the words came out a bunch of gibberish, especially when I started hiccuping. Jesse seemed to take me in, studying me, although, his gaze was not kind. He was cold and I could sense that he expected me to fidget under his stare. Sober me would have. She's always been weak under his smoldering gaze.
"I'm going home," I repeated. It seemed to be the only thing I could say.
Jesse stepped up to me, and I reacted in the best possible way. I went for his balls and kicked. I kicked hard enough to lose my balance, and nothing could be more satisfying than hearing the sound of him being in pain. He went on his knees, clutching his crotch. I would enjoy this when I wake up tomorrow, but I needed to leave now. Being around him was more dangerous when I was drunk.
I spotted his car keys on the ground and snatched it up in my hands, sprinting to his car.
Now, there were bad ideas and the worst ideas, but attempting to drive while I was drunk was the worst idea. It was illegal. But I never claimed to be a rational person when I'm drunk. I unlocked the car and looked back. He reared back on his feet, a curse falling from his lips.
I gave him a middle finger.
Getting inside the car, I started the engine and backed it up before hitting the accelerator. I pulled onto the road and swerved the car to the side. That was the moment my phone started ringing. I looked down at it. It was mum. It took me a long few seconds to look back up at the road, and when I did, I gasped. It was already too late. I felt the impact, followed by a metal crunching. My head hit the wheel.
I could smell the smoke coming from the car and I tried not to gasp in the smoke. My head hurts. I could barely lift it. Something wet glided down from my forehead. I registered Jesse's voice. I heard him shouting my name and pounding against the window. I could not find any strength in me to respond. I heard the door ripping before he finally got it out of the way.
"Iris, Iris, Iris," he spoke frantically, worry and fear attached to his voice. I felt his hands lift my head from the wheel to lean it back against the seat. "Hey, open your eyes. Talk to me," he said. His fear was palpable, foreign to my ears. The man I knew would never sound like that.
I parted my lips, staring through the dizziness. "Am I dead?" I whispered, fluttering my eyes open and close. I let them stay open for a few moments longer to keep my eyes on him. "Jesse," I muttered his name, a smile falling on my lips.
"Can you move? Are you hurt anywhere?" he asked as he touched my forehead. I flinched at the pain.
"Hurts," I whispered with a wince. My head hurt so much.
I felt his hands going around my body and lifting me out of the car, cradling me in his chest. I succumbed into his warmth and protection shamelessly. Jesse drew me against his chest as my eyes fell on the damaged car, the black smoke from the engine drifting into the air.
"I damaged your car."
"Fuck the car," he responded heatedly, and I circled my arms around his neck. "Hey, don't go sleeping on me, alright?"
I answered with a hum, already feeling sleepy. I was tired. All I wanted was to close my eyes, but all he wanted was for me to keep my eyes open. It was a struggle between what I wanted and what he wanted.
Jesse carried me into his house. I immediately felt cold and my teeth started chattering. He cursed and muttered something about turning down the temperature. It was practically an ice cave inside. With hurried footsteps, he lay me on the soft cushion, drawing my hair away from my face before snapping his fingers in my face to make sure I remained awake. Then he sauntered off.
I didn't know how long he was gone for because I kept drifting in and out, but when I opened my eyes, he was in front of me, his hips half angled to me. His head faced another direction, his attention somewhere else. A phone was pressed to his ear.
"I don't know," I heard him say into the phone. "Let me check."
Jesse crouched in front of me before I even saw him move. "Hey, Iris," he called, softly. "Are you feeling pain anywhere?"
I groaned and swiped my tongue across my bottom lip. "Just here." I pointed to my forehead. "I hit my head." And I knew there was blood sticking to my forehead.
Jesse repeated what I told him into his phone. "Yeah," he agreed, shooting me another glance. "There might be a concussion. No, I can't take her to the hospital. My car is totaled. No, I don't think so. I can take care of her, doc."
I opened my mouth to argue, but no sound came out as he sent me a withering look. "Okay, I'll do that. Get here fast." After he finished his call, he left the room. Sometime later, he came back with a first aid box, looking slightly pissed.
He knelt beside me. I could count the lines on his forehead and there was a lot. His jaw clenched as he wiped the blood from my forehead, cleaning the wound. He was doing it in a pissy way-doing everything with force as if he was going to break the things he was touching. I winced when he dabbed alcohol on my wound.
"Serves you right," he growled. "Fucking hell, you're an idiot." He let out a sharp breath. Jesse continued muttering curses and called me all the stupid things he could think of, but he didn't stop cleaning my wound and he didn't hesitate to bandage it.
I didn't have the strength in me to fight him back for all the mean things he said.
When he got back, he sat across from me. He bended over, touching his elbows to his knees, rubbing his eyes. I watched him silently, seeing the knot in his shoulders. He was distressed. Angry. Frustrated. This was the first time I was seeing him look unbalanced.
"I'm sorry about your car," I mumbled croakily. I knew how much he treasured his cars. When he first got his car in high school, Jesse had treated it as if it was his child. No one was allowed to touch it. When Jason went behind his back and took it to see his girlfriend, he denting the car. I remembered Jesse completely losing his shit. He refused to speak to Jason for two weeks. Ever since then, my brother never attempted to take his best friend's car again.
Jesse jerked up and gave me a stark look. "You think this is about the car?" he questioned, more pissed off than before. "You know how much you fucked up this night, Iris?"
Anger sliced through my chest. "So it's really about the car." I may not have been hit enough if I was trying to pick a fight with him.
"Jesus Christ," he swore again. "Why do you become less likable every time you open your mouth?" Hardness lined his words.
I felt slapped by his words. Stunned, or hurt. I didn't know. I only knew that my heart twisted in my chest. Jesse groaned when he saw my face. He slumped into his chair and rested his arms on the handle, tilting his head up to the ceiling.
"Did anyone not tell you to be nice to sick people?" I asked, tiredly. I chose not to pick a fight, at least, not right now. Tomorrow, I would go back to fighting him, but tonight, I would calm the lioness inside me.
"Not to those who act recklessly and put their lives in danger."
"I didn't put my life in danger."
His eyes latched onto mine, still hard and half glaring. "You got drunk and almost went to a bar! You took my car and drove it straight into a pole! How is that not putting your life in danger?"
I winced when I shifted, my head throbbing. Who knew pain could sober up someone so fast. My eyes found Jesse and I let out a stifled laugh, nodding just the slightest bit. "When you say it like that, it does sound chaotic."
"It's pointless yelling at you."
I couldn't agree more. "It has never gotten you anywhere before." Another head splitting pain ripped through me, but I didn't make a sound.
"You're right." He chuckled, but it felt more forced. Jesse tilted his head to the side and kept his eyes locked on me, a smile curving the corner of his lips. "I'm more civilized than you. I don't need to yell to send my point across," he said smugly.
"You still haven't made your point."
"But you're awake. The doctor asked me to keep you awake before he gets here. Who knew the hatred burning in your chest for me could save your life?"
"You called a doctor?" I exclaimed, ignoring the pain when I tried to spring up to show him I didn't need one. "Look, I'm fine-"
He swung those stormy eyes at me, hot and angry. "Sit your ass back down."
"I'm fine!" I snapped, trying to sit up. My head hurt. I felt dizzy.
Jesse sprang from his chair, and in three strides, he was in front of me, pressing me down into the couch with his hands. "You're an awful liar, you know that?" His chest rose up and down, his eyes almost going wild as they stared into mine. My breath seized when he hovered above me, inviting himself into my space. Suddenly, I felt chills all over my body the longer he stayed above me, his face so close and his body sending heat into mine.
"Your nose is always red when you're lying. It's cute," he murmured, glancing at my nose. His hands pressed me down. His knee wedged between my legs. He only needed to shift before he's practically on the couch with me. My heart beat fast. Tension stretched between us. My lips parted and my bottom lip quivered.
"Are you in pain?" he asked, cupping the back of my head as his fingers intertwined in my locks. His deep eyes filled mine. "Are you?"
"Why does it matter to you?" My voice came out small and choked.
Jesse brushed my hair behind my ear. "You're in my house, therefore, I'm responsible for you. I make it a habit of mine to take care of things that are in my home, Iris. Unlike your perception of me, I can be a decent guy."
"Not to me."
"You and I have enmity as old as time," he teased. His breath tickled my face.
"I don't remember killing your cat."
"Oh, you don't?" With a tilt of his head, his eyebrow quirked up. "You may not have killed Stripes, but you lost him on your watch. Therefore, I'm blaming you for his death."
I glared and pushed him off me. He didn't hesitate to back away. Technically, he was right. He lost his beloved cat and hadn't been lucky enough to find him ever since. I'd like to take a moment to say it wasn't intentionally. One minute I had the cat and the next thing I knew, I didn't. It was a mystery that couldn't be solved. But being reminded of it sucked, especially when I wondered if Stripes had found a new owner, or it had accidentally met its death like Jesse thought it had.
My cheeks flushed.
"You're flushed."
Fuck.
I ignored that. I sat up despite what he would say because I actually felt like throwing up. I dragged another breath in, trying to keep my shallow breaths steady.
"Do you need water?" he asked.
"I'm not used to you being nice," I retorted, my breath hitching as he came near. Jesse's lips pulled in a playful smile. I pointed a threatening finger at him. "Don't come closer. I just need to use the bathroom," I said as I pushed myself to stand. He rushed to grab me when I stumbled, but I held a hand up. Blood rushed to my head, and I felt dizzy.
"Maybe you should sit down," he advised, watching me struggle to keep myself upright.
Between feeling nauseous, dizziness, and a splitting headache, it was the worst combination. I tried taking a step forward but swayed. Jesse caught my upper arm, drawing me to his chest before I could fall. I didn't object. Actually, I didn't have the strength to complain. It was obvious I needed help if I wanted to remain on my feet.
"Slow steps," he murmured. "Where are we going?"
"Bathroom."
He helped me stay upright, walking me to the bathroom while I cursed myself for ever drinking and crashing his car. It made me weak in front of him. This wouldn't have happened if I hadn't been strong enough to hold my alcohol.
Inside the bathroom, I sat on the floor with my back against the door. It took me a couple of minutes to calm down and a minute longer for Jesse to knock on the door because he was worried I had slipped and hit my head. Hearing him worry about me put me off a little considering I had spent twenty-five years living in his torture. Every time he offered to help me with something, he had to benefit from it. Only this time, I couldn't think of anything he would benefit from doing this. If anything, I had crashed his car. It was a loss for him.
In the end, I had to come out. The doctor came. Jesse forced me to be examined even when I whined and complained that I was fine, but he had to make sure I didn't have a concussion. When the doctor finished examining me, checked over my injury, and was hundred percent sure I didn't have a concussion, he was satisfied enough to leave. Right before he left, I started giving him the idea of dropping me off on his way, but one look from Jesse had me swallowing down the remaining words.
I have never been intimidated by him. Correction: I have never been intensely intimidated by Jesse Price as I was this night. I was cautious of him-maybe it had to do with being in his safe place. This was his home. This was where he felt safe. This was where he dominated, and I was right in the middle of it. Of course, something in me would shift. It was a primal instinct. I was in a dangerous territory and I couldn't afford to misbehave.
What Jesse says, it goes.
Come morning, I'd make sure he choked on everything he said tonight.
"Guest room?"
I blinked.
"What? "I asked, my voice raspy. I cleared my throat. God, what was wrong with me? I was usually not this uncomfortable around him, but today seemed to be different. "I'm not staying over. I'm leaving."
"Like hell you are."
"What's your problem?" I snapped. "The doctor has cleared me. I'm good to go. You shouldn't even want me here."
"Why? Are you sacred something is going to happen?"
My heart stilled, then sped up. My toes curled and my hands trembled. I glared at him. "I've never been-"
"Yes, you have. You don't think I haven't noticed that you're more aggressive ever since that night? Just because I never said anything about it doesn't mean I'm completely stupid." He wasn't being gentle with his words, but then again, Jesse was never gentle with me.
"Me? Aggressive?" I laughed, then scoffed. It hurt to do both. "You're the one who changed! You're the one who started acting like you have a vendetta against me. You became crueler!" College party. I was drunk. He showed up drunk. He led me upstairs. I followed. And we woke up in bed, naked.
His eyes clouded for a second before he straightened. "In what way, Iris? All I did was acknowledge that things between us won't change unless I take a step and I did."
His excuses were stupid, meaningless. I knew for a fact because he became angrier after that night. "You changed overnight," I fumed. "You became cold and....disinterested, like you've given up." I didn't know why it bothered me, but it did. When you spent half of your life with someone always in your space, always butting in and making your business their business-when that normal routine changes, you feel that change.
With Jesse, he had always been this large significant thing in my life. He was always there. He invaded every space of mine. Even when he left for college, he was constantly being kept up to date about my life. Every weekend, he was home. He was a lot more at home than Jason. It didn't feel like he left. He had people feeding him information about me just so he couldn't be out of loop about my life. In a way, he was a sun that shines brightly on me. Constantly.
But after that drunk night, he became more reserved. More calm. He had been a chaos that plunged through. But now, he was like a sleeping monster.
"You used to fight me with everything you had, Jesse, and you enjoyed it," I continued. I still could not figure out why it bothered me, or why I was saying all of this to him when I had swallowed it down and left it to myself. "You teased me and you were always planning ahead, always thinking of ways to torture me, but ever since that night-"
"You can't even say it," he mused, jaw ticking.
I swallowed. "Ever since we slept together, it's like something switched off with you and you've treated me with indifference, like being around me or talking to me exhausts you."
Jesse rolled his eyes. He avoided my gaze. "Come on, Iris, we were kids. Of course, I took pleasure in those things, but we are not kids anymore. I don't have the time to plot ways to torture you."
"That's not it. That's not what I'm trying to say."
He licked his lips. His eyes returned on me. "I don't want to have this conversation anymore," he clipped. A part of me wondered why he was more affected by it than me. "Let me show you to the guest room." He walked past me, then paused. He didn't turn. "Are you coming?"
I shouldn't.
I did.
-
When I woke up, I felt half alive and half dead.
Kidding.
But I felt like shit. My head hurts. My jaw hurts, and I thought my body ached too. I adjusted my eyesight and realized it wasn't my room. Not a moment later, it all came back to my mind. I was in Jesse's house. His house. I had an accident. He sort of took care of me and called the doctor. I slept in his guest room. This felt too unreal. I wouldn't have thought this was going to happen. Cece would have a blast with this information, which was why I was not going to tell her or anyone about this. In fact, I would do whatever it took to make sure I erased this memory from my mind.
You will need my help.
Goddamn, that was what happened, wasn't it? He had predicated that I would need his help, and he so graciously offered while I shamelessly accepted.
Hold on.
Did he help me because of that? Because he wanted to prove that he could help me? That I would be at his mercy? I wouldn't put it past the asshole to think that.
Ah. My head still hurts, like I had smacked it into a wall until I had crushed every bits of it. Though it got me thinking how I acted out of character last night.
Fuck.
Not only did I consider going to a bar drunk, but I got myself to Jesse's house and wrecked his car. Fucking hell. Did last night happened? Did I act as if I cared about his attitude towards me?
Oh, no.
I wanted to smack my head against the wall. I couldn't believe I said all of that to him. What was he going to think? That I cared how he acted towards me? God.
Note to self: never get drunk unsupervised. Apparently, I was prone to acting stupid in front of Jesse. How was I supposed to look him in the eye? Might as well slip out before he notice.
Jesse's house was huge. I wasn't surprised. I had always known he had inherited his uncle's wealth and properties, but I never bothered to come here. I never needed to, but somehow, his address had engraved itself on my mind.
Every section in the house was elegant and clean. His interior did not match his personality. I thought I would find something cold and dull, but it was colorful in here. I passed at least five sets of doors as I tiptoed in the hallway before I eventually found myself in the living room. From where I stood, I could see the large kitchen. I didn't stop to give myself a tour. I was never coming back again.
But wait.
My throat was dry. Drier than a paper. I didn't think I could walk out of here without wetting my lungs at least. I tiptoed to the kitchen to make sure I didn't wake him up. I had no idea what time it was, but it was time for me to get the hell out of here. Any second in his house would make me comfortable. I was about to step into the kitchen when someone came out from it. We bumped chests, sending me back with a gasp.
I looked up.
Jesse was shirtless. He was wearing sweatpants that hung low over his hips, and he was staring right back at me.
"Good morning."
The audacity of him to say that.
I clamped my mouth shut. My breath hitched, and I tried to avoid the ripped lines of his stomach and every tight muscle.
He frowned when I remained quiet, freaked out. "You are supposed to say it's not a good morning," he added. "That's our thing. I say good morning and you say it's not." He still stood at the doorway, blocking the path. Observing me. Seizing me.
I gripped my shirt. I didn't look at him. Wait. Why was I still standing?
I turned.
His hand caught me and twirled me around to face him. He fought off a grin. "Well, that's a new development."
"Fuck off and let me go."
He didn't hide his grin, or his laughter. But he did let me go. He released me as quick as I had said those six words. "Wasn't planning on holding on to you, Iris," he retorted, amused. "Sneaking out so early? Won't stay for breakfast? My one-night stands usually do."
I glared at him. I turned around to leave.
"Your mum called me again," he exclaimed. I hit breaks on my steps. "You might want to think twice about going back home. She said some stuff about needing to see you and she got a lot of people with her. Of course," he continued, stepping away from the door toward me. "I listened, but I didn't tell her you were here. She's called everyone looking for you."
I winced. "Why?"
"Do you really want me to say?"
Fuck. Mum must have gotten the news about the shop. I didn't want to think about the reason she was looking for me or why she brought people with her.
"Something tells me you want to avoid everyone. If you leave now, she's going to find you, and she's going to drag you into whatever she has planned for you," he said, then added softly, "Now that she knows about your shop." He eyed me as if he was waiting for me to deny what he already knew.
"You know nothing," I muttered, but he was right.
He huffed out a laugh. "I know your mum and I know she's stubborn, and I also know you'd hate whatever she has on her mind. And.." He dragged on with a lopsided grin, dragging his teeth over the bottom of his lips. "I know if you step out of the house now, you're fucked."
I hated it when he was right, but it should not have surprised me he knew my mum so well. He grew up with Jason and I. He grew up in our home, and he grew up being my parent's second child. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't a neglected child, but my parents fawned over Jesse more than they had given me any flicker of attention. His pictures had been all over my house that people who didn't know us mistook him as my parent's son. My childhood was a nightmare, all thanks to his contribution.
My gaze zeroed in on him. "And what are you proposing?" A speculative look entered my eyes. "That I stay here?" He couldn't actually be throwing that around.
"She will never come here because she knows you'd rather get dragged to hell than find yourself in my house," he said with a shrug.
He was right. Like always, he was Mr. Right. "Ha." I think I was so freaked out by his suggestion and the fact that I was considering it. A teeny tiny bit of myself was considering it, and I dreaded it.
He gave another shrug, this time, a one shoulder shrug. "But then again, I should tell her where you are right now."
I fixed him my world renowned glare. "Don't you dare." It was bad enough that last night happened and I woke up in his house, but the thought of my mother plotting my future was more life threatening than Jesse's half naked body.
Stop looking at it. Stop looking at him. Jesus.
"Then, stay. Hide here."
"Why would I do that?" Because you don't have a choice.
"Because you have nowhere else to go."
I shuffled on my feet, dragging my foot across the floor. "I have places," I retorted, counting my bedroom, my living room, kitchen and bathroom as the places where I could hide from my nosy, butting into-my-life mother.
"Sure you do, Iris."
"I could go to a hotel." And burn the rest of the money I have left when I have a free home and another home being offered to me.
Sure, Iris, take money out of your bank to spend it on a fucking hotel room when you could just take Jesse's offer or go home and face your mum.
Jesse chortled, grinning wide. "Think she won't find you there?"
"My mum can't possibly check all the hotels."
He pulled a face. "Sure." He walked past me before I could even count how many times I have blinked when his muscles and packs jerks when he moved.