Page 5 of Jacob

“Fine,” I huff frustratedly. “If you won’t tell me, it shows me you don’t trust me or care for me, if you ever did.”

“Skye, you’ve got me all wrong. I do care for you. I’m always here for you.”

I laugh. “On Monday, you stood me up at the gym. The gym, for Christ’s sake. You barely remembered it was my birthday this year until Jacob reminded you.”

Owen grinds his teeth, making his jaw twitch as I continue to deliver my list of grievances.

“You failed to pick me up from work when my car was in for a service yesterday.” At least he’s consistently crap; I’ll give him ten out of ten for that.

“You should have called me.” He frowns.

“I did,” I say matter-of-factly. “Five times.”

He never answers his phone when I call him, and he very rarely texts me back. I never seem to be worthy of his time, even though he’s never off his phone.

“You only turn up when you want to sleep with me or when your friends are busy.”

“It’s not like that,” he sighs sadly, as if he can sense the weight of my words and the finality of my decision.

Feeling my patience wear thin, my voice raises a few octaves. “Yes, it is. You made every excuse to wriggle yourself out of coming to my nana’s eightieth birthday party last month. You have never come to my parents’ house for Sunday dinner, and we’ve been dating, if that’s what you can call it, on and off for fourteen years.” I bang my hand against the wall, making him jump. “You don’t care about me or my family. And why did my invitations to your parents’ fancy parties stop? I’m clearly not what they want for you, but you have never had the balls to tell me.” I suck in a deep breath. “Be honest with yourself. You know it’s over. I deserve better.”

“Shit,” he sighs breathlessly and tips his head toward the night sky, letting the rain bounce off his handsome face. “I blew it with you, didn’t I?” His shoulders deflate. “I let my parents get into my head.”

“You did. But it’s over.”

He shakes his head and then grabs the back of his neck. “Fuck.” His frustration echoes around the empty cobbled street.

“You had better go home before you catch a chill.”

“Can I not come in? For five minutes, please? Just to chat?” His eyes plead with me.

“Just go home.” I fake-smile. “You’re not the only one at fault here, and it wasn’t all bad. We did have lots of laughter and fun when we were younger, but it’s done… whatever this has been between us, it’s over. You need to leave. Night, Owen. See you around, yeah?”

3

SKYE

I’m nervously biting my nails and realize, if I don’t stop, I’m going to nibble them down to the cuticle. Pulling my finger from my mouth, I rub my clammy hands down the fabric of my dress.

As Jacob stands at the front of the conference room, leading our weekly meeting, I can’t stop looking at him and now that I know what’s under his crisp white dress shirt, I can almost make out the faint abstract outlines of ink that cover his body. He’s a living, breathing work of art, making me want to explore every inch of him.

“So that wraps up our Monday morning project briefing.” He scratches the scruff on his face, then pushes his hands into the pockets of his dress trousers. “Any questions?”

He looks around the conference room table, continuing to act like I don’t exist.

I should have used a sick day.

While jealousy is not an emotion I’m familiar with, it’s a feeling I’ve become best friends with over the past two nights. I’m jealous of the way he touched that girl, the way he fucked her.

I want that to be me.

Conflicted, pure desire has taken up permanent residency in my veins, messing with every thought I’m now having about Jacob.

It’s pure carnal need and want.

That one night seems to have changed everything.

I sit straighter in the boardroom chair, feeling hot all over. Uncomfortably so. He’s the one I fantasized about as I got myself off last night in the shower, and whose eyes, tattoos, and muscular body I saw as I finally drifted off to sleep at five o’clock this morning.

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