Page 38 of Veiled in Brick

He radiated genuine sincerity and curiosity, and I murmured, “Jesus, I’m a bad person.”

James’ head bobbed backward. “Zoey, what—”

“Liam kissed me.”

His eyebrows flew up above the edge of his glasses. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Tried to. Kiss me, that is.”

“Ah,” he paused, placing his hands on his hips, and cleared his throat loudly. “When?”

“Last night.”

“Mmm,” he hummed, seemingly pondering something to himself. He rocked back and forth on his heels, looking to the ceiling for a bit before he asked, “Are you torn up because he’s your friend and he crossed a line?” James awaited my answer for a moment with a clenched jaw, and then added, “Because if that’s the case, I can go find him and knock him on his ass.”

I coughed to alleviate the lump in my throat, but it did little to no good.

“No, um—”

“Oh, the no makes it much better,” he retorted. “No line crossed; you guys have just been waitin’ to do this?”

“No,” I whined, “it wasn’t—”

James held up a hand, his light eyes widening. “Wait, did you fuck him?”

“What?” I replied in a breathy exhale. “No.”

He nodded a few times and finally narrowed his eyes. “Mmkay, so let me get the gist of all this—so-called platonic friend Liam tried to kiss you.” I grumbled at his phrasing and he continued, “And this wasn’t crossing a line for you?”

“Jay—”

“’Cause I’m not gonna fuckin’ beat around the bush, Zoey, I’m a jealous man.” He said it plainly, and I frowned while he stated, “Always have been, and that’s not something I’m gonna work on fixing at this point—old dog. New tricks. You get it, yes?”

“Yeah, I—”

“So, forgive me if I’m a little perturbed that Liam tried to stick his tongue down your throat and that somehow was not crossing a line—”

“He didn’t…stick his tongue down my throat, Jay,” I argued. “He just kinda, like, gently went for it—”

“I don’t need to know what his fuckin’ lips felt like, Zoey!” he exclaimed, throwing a hand in the air in exasperation. “Why the fuck am I here?”

“What?”

He looked at me with an expression that asked if he really needed to repeat himself, but he did so anyway with a calmer questioning of, “Why am I here?”

“I wanted to see you,” I said truthfully.

James blew out a sharp breath through his nostrils. “Finding that hard to believe since ya looked like you were having fuckin’ ’Nam flashbacks when I was making out with you a second ago.”

“I did want to see you,” I clarified quickly, “I do, I’m just…”

My words drifted off into the air between us, and James offered, “Torn?”

I questioned the word. Torn meant feeling strung between two things. An equal tug in either direction until one feels like they’re being pulled apart—and that wasn’t fitting of the emotion building within me. I wasn’t…torn. I was being forcibly ripped as I struggled to cling to James and all the good that came with him. The pull in the other direction was too strong, though, and it seemingly had nothing to offer me regarding my natural gravitation. It just wanted to swallow me whole, spit me out, and leave me gutted.

I shook my head no.

“Right,” James responded, pursing his lips together.

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