Page 31 of The Surrender
“But you don’t?”
“Of course I don’t.” What kind of stupid question is that?
“You said he’s out of the picture.”
“He is.”
“But he still pops in to visit your family? Sends you flowers?”
And attends my brother’s wedding.“Jude, I can’t con—”
“Why the hell is he sending you flowers?” he barks, his handsome face twisting as he begins a dogged march around the bedroom.
I breathe out tiredly and follow his path, remaining quiet, since I seem to poke the bear harder each time I open my mouth. “Calm down.” And I say that?
“So you think it’s okay that he’s still sending you flowers?” he asks, his dark eyes landing on me with a bang. The wrong kind of bang. He’s fuming.
“Did you hear me say it’s okay?”Do not roll your eyes, Amelia.“Andyouthink it’s okay to react likethis?”
“How the fuck do you want me to react, Amelia? You’ve just told me your ex is sending you flowers, and your parents want you to rekindle whatever the fuck it was you had with him.”
I stare at him, flummoxed. After Katherine’s performances, trying to stake a claim on Jude, he has the nerve to behave like an ape? And yet I hold my tongue because tit for tat will get us nowhere.
“He knew you were seeing someone else, and now he’s sending you flowers?”
“He doesn’t think I’m seeing you anymore.”
“What?”
“My father told him I wasn’t seeing you anymore.”
“Why?”
“Because I wasn’t, Jude,” I say, exasperated. “You ordered flowers at Abbie’s with my mother, she brought them home, my father saw them, so I told them I was seeing someone, and then Nick walked in and overheard. Then I found out that I was a bet, and surprisingly, it kind of hurt, so I was a little bit off sorts and my family noticed. I told them things didn’t work out between us, and my dad must have told Nick at the wedding.”
“He was at your brother’s wedding?” he practically shrieks, recoiling.
Fuck.“He was an usher.” I flop back to the bed, waiting for more eruptions. “I asked my brother to uninvite him, but he didn’t.”
“Great. So you spent a lovely romantic day with your ex while I was tearing myself apart with guilt and regret, trying to figure out how I could show you that I lo—”
“Are you actually making yourself the victim right now?” I sit up, outraged.
His lips twist, his nostrils flaring. “Does he know you left halfway through the day to fuck me in the back of my car?”
Fuck this. I get up and gather my things. “Okay, I’m leaving. I can’t deal with this bullshit.” He’s like two people, my perfect man and an absolute possessive nightmare.
“Bullshit?” he asks, laughing. “This is bullshit?”
“Yes! It’s fucking bullshit.” I ram my laptop in my bag and swing it onto my shoulder, stuffing my feet into my heels. “Like how you’ve behaved each and every time you’ve seen me talking to a man is utter bullshit.”
“Or kissing them in steam rooms.”
Laughing under my breath, I don’t bother reminding him that it was a mistake. He’s being ridiculous. Is he ever going to let that go? “Fuck off, Jude.” A man has never drawn such reactions from me. I huff to myself as I storm out of the bedroom. Well, the honeymoon period was short-lived. And his performance is a stark reminder that Jude Harrison has some chinks in his armour. What the hell is wrong with him?
“Do I need to remind you about your reactions to Katherine?” His voice is getting louder. Of course he’s following me. And how fucking dare he!
“She comes here to have sex with you!” I yell.Fuck. Keep it together.“I’m going.” I feel like I could pop. Or slap him. He’s so fucking wonderful, and then completely unbearable. I yank the door open.
