Page 50 of Isabelle & Jason
Isabelle nodded. “Yep.”
“But he didn’t tell you? Why?”
That wasn’t something Isabelle was ready to discuss. And she prayed her hesitation wasn’t completely obvious. She fidgeted and turned her attention to her ice cream. “I guess he might have been embarrassed. I mean, how would you feel if you met Ash for a brief moment, and then a few years later you bumped into him and he didn’t remember you?”
Charlie made a face. Yeah, just like Isabelle suspected. That concept was painful. Even now, Isabelle hated that she had been on the other side of things.
“Anyway, it turns out that everything works out for the best, right?” When she finally allowed herself to really look at Charlie, she noticed something that turned her stomach. Charlie was no longer excited over the story of a budding romance. Her pensive stare indicated she had been consumed by something else.
Uh-oh.
Isabelle avoided Charlie’s gaze. Even though she’d lost her appetite, she tried to eat more of her treat. When Charlie spoke again, she flinched despite her friend’s quiet voice.
“That’s not the whole story, is it?”
“What do you mean?” Isabelle flicked a glance at her friend, hating to see that whisper of hurt behind her eyes.
“You know what I mean. I can’t understand why you’d keep it from me.”
“I don’t?—”
“It’s not just about Jason. The other week when you came to get me from the station, you had a panic attack. And before you think about denying it, bite your tongue. Ash noticed, too. And for the life of me, I can’t understand why Jason would cover for you—unless he’s aware of why it happened.” Charlie frowned, and when she reached across the table to grasp ahold of Isabelle’s hand, it deepened when Isabelle flinched again.
Charlie was too attentive for her own good. Isabelle figured that being surrounded by brothers wouldn’t allow for such a talent to manifest.
“You can talk to me, Izzie. I get that you don’t like to open up to people often, but…” Emotion flooded her eyes, and a single tear slipped down her cheek.
Isabelle blanched. Her friend was crying.
Swiping at her tears with a sad laugh, Charlie said, “Stupid pregnancy hormones.” She pulled her hand back to her lap. “I want you to feel safe to let me in. I admit that I’ve dropped the ball when it comes to our friendship. Between getting married, moving into my own house, and getting pregnant…” She sucked in a sharp breath and brushed at another tear. “I know I’m a bad friend, but maybe you could?—”
Isabelle was practically vibrating with frustration. “You’re not a bad friend, Charlie.”
“Really? Because the old Charlie would have noticed that something was going on a long time ago. But I only figured it out at the station. And maybe I noticed it sooner, but I didn’t push you to talk to me.”
“That’s because there’s nothing to talk about!” Isabelle’s voice rose and Charlie startled, her eyes wide. A couple of heads turned their way and Isabelle flushed. “I’m sorry,” she said under her breath. “I’m fine. You’re still a good friend. End of discussion. I should probably go. Let’s do this again, okay?”
Before Charlie could argue, Isabelle darted away. Her own tears spilled down her cheeks on the way back home. Guilt mingled with the anguish that threatened to consume her. She was being buried by memories and pain. It didn’t matter how fast she ran or how exhausted she allowed herself to get; she couldn’t get past the issues that threatened to drag her to the depths of her personal purgatory.
Isabelle needed to forget. She needed a way to lose herself again.
There was only one person who was capable of making that happen, so the second she got home, she charged for the kitchen where she knew he’d be getting ready for supper. She burst through the doors.
Mark noticed her first, and the second he saw her state, he elbowed Jason in the ribs. Jason muttered something when he sent Mark a dark look. When Mark motioned in her direction and Jason turned to look, he tossed the chef’s knife onto the cutting board and swept toward her.
Isabelle didn’t waste any time dragging him out of the kitchen.
“Isabelle, what?—”
She got him around the side of the building where no one would catch them and pushed him against the wall. He grunted with surprise. Isabelle’s hands framed his face roughly within her own. Her lips crashed over his. Never had she been so desperate for solace and peace. Jason could give that to her.
Isabelle would have done anything to rid herself of the tumultuous emotions that threatened to explode from her in torrents.
At first, Jason was surprised. His kiss was reactive. But then he stiffened beneath the onslaught of her desire. His hands came up and wrapped around her upper arms. A groan that sounded full of pain rumbled from his chest as he pushed her away.
Doing her best to cling to him, to retain some semblance of control she felt was slipping through her fingers, a whimper bubbled from her lips. She needed him. Why couldn’t he see that? Why wasn’t he willing to give her what she needed? He promised.
“Isabelle,” he rasped, pressing a kiss to her forehead when she made sounds of desperation. “You’re not acting like yourself.”
