Page 27 of Hung Up
“God, no.” Faith seems visibly repulsed by the thought. “I told you I swore off relationships, remember?”
This girl is giving me whiplash.“Then I’m confused.”
She throws her hands up in exasperation. “I’m not a casual girl, Jesse. I don’t do hookups. I want someone I can call whenever I need them and they’ll show up at the drop of a hat to satisfy me. But I don’t want to share. I want the sex without the feelings, but with the exclusivity. It’s hard enough to feel comfortable in your skin without having to worry about what the person, or people, you’re sleeping with think, too. That sounds like my own personal version of hell. But no man in their right mind wants an exclusive fuck buddy who is as insecure as I am. So alas, I’ll have to continue relying on my vibrator, even though it has grown extremely disappointing.”
Faith begins to pace as I take a second to digest her words. Clearly, her exes have chipped away at her and are the reason she wants exclusivity. She never got that in her relationships; it only makes sense that she’d want some control and stability now. But no man in their right mind?
Well, then, someone call the psych ward.
“Pick me.”
She whips around to face me, eyes wide. “What?”
“Pick me. I’ll be your exclusive fuck buddy.”
“Jesse—”
“I meant what I said earlier,” I tell her, referring to what I said to her on the beach. “I’ve wanted you since I first laid my eyes on you.” She studies me for a moment, her face unreadable, so I say, “Ball is in your court, Sweetheart.”
I turn on my heel and begin to walk back toward the street, planning to make my way over to the other side so I can watch and make sure she makes it back into the bar or an Uber okay. Just before I reach the sidewalk, I turn around.
“412.”
“What?”
God, she’s so cute when she’s flustered.“My room number. In case you’re interested.”
10FAITH
JACKSONVILLE
a deal with thedevilbull rider
“Pick me.”
“I’ve wanted you since I first laid my eyes on you.”
“My room number. In case you’re interested.”
I’m pacing in my room, his words echoing through my mind on an endless loop. The taste of his lips on mine, the feel of his rough hands gripping my thighs, his silky strands caught between my fingers.
Get it together, Faith.
I can’t go there, I just can’t. He’s cocky and arrogant and—except he really isn’t. He’s proved that a lot as of late. Jesse is just as insecure and self-conscious as the rest of us. Sure, he has his moments, but from the few times he’s opened up to me, it’s clearly all an act. One that he’s been playing and portraying for so long, it’s hard to tell what’s real and what’s not.
“You don’t want to sleep with someone who sleeps around,” I whisper to myself. Except he’s not doing that anymore. He said it himself that his PR team was breathing down his neck andmade him choose: one woman or no women. And to my surprise, he chose no women at all. So obviously he’s not sleeping around anymore. But if we were to do this, if I were to sleep with him exclusively, it’d have to be over after the championships. This is not something I could continue in good conscience come the middle of May.
But if he’s willing to agree to that, if he’s okay keeping it a secret…
No. No, Faith, you can’t.
Heading into the bathroom, I hastily brush my teeth before changing into my silk pajamas, shorts and a tank top—yes, it’s February, but it’s Jacksonville and I’m inside—and choosing against washing my face so I can climb straight into bed. Lights off, television on with the volume low, my phone turned face down on the nightstand so I can’t look at it. The time, more like. I stare at the ceiling, my body lit like a live wire, my mind playing his words and our moment in the alleyway over, and over, and over again.
“Okay,” I whisper to myself, or into the empty room, I suppose. “He annoys the hell out of you. He makes fun of your business professional attire, he continues to call you a nickname you hate, even though you’ve asked him not to, and he can be self-centered. You don’t want to get intimate with someone like that.”
Yeah, I’m not a good liar.
Flipping the covers off, I walk to the chair in the corner of the room and grab my black silk robe, tying it tightly around myself as I slip my feet into my plush white slippers. Grabbing my room key off the dresser, I don’t bother looking back as I rush toward the elevators. Hitting the up button, I tap my foot impatiently as I wait for the doors to open. The ride up is short since he’s only one floor above mine, and I hastily scan to my left and right before taking off down the hallway to my left. Eight doors down,I come to a screeching halt, those numbers stopping me as my hand is raised, poised and ready to knock.
