Page 55 of This Life and All the Rest
I’m honest, but my words don’t console her like I meant for them to. Instead, her jaw tightens in that familiar way and my blood heats.
“Yeah, well, I’m not your fucking babysitter, Macon.”
She puts her hands on her hips and stares me down, anger evident in every inch of her body. Anger, and something else.
“I don’t know the first thing about taking care of a baby and you just abandoned me with one.”
“Is she okay?” I ask, glancing toward the living room. “Did she wake up?”
“No,” Lennon snaps, “but that’s not the problem.”
I look back and study her. The agitation doesn’t make sense. She’s pissed. Fuck, I’m pissed, even, and I don’t know why. I can tell she wanted me to just let her leave. She didn’t want to talk about this, but I’m not leaving it alone. I can’t.
There’s something here...
“Then what’s the problem?” I finally ask, putting just enough irritation in my words to push her over the edge.
“The problem is that I’m not here to cover for you so can go hookup with some girl for two hours,” she whisper-yells, and it finally makes sense.
I am an idiot. But fuck if this doesn’t excite me.
“What?” I say, cocking my head to the side, egging Lennon on. I take a step closer. “What are you so upset about? I thought you didn’t care who I was fucking?”
“I don’t, but I don’t like feeling used,” she says, her voice shaking just a little. “If you need to get your dick wet, do it on your own fucking time.”
I laugh. I can’t help it, and her nostrils flare. She’s so hot when she’s angry, especially right now. I haven’t felt this high in years. She’s jealous, and I’m feeding off it.
“I’m glad you think this is funny,” she deadpans, then pushes past me to storm out of the kitchen.
I grab her bicep and spin her back to me, and she jerks her arm away but doesn’t try to leave again. Her eyes are all fire, scathing with passion. My smirk grows. This ismyLennon. I knew she was still in there.
“You’re jealous,” I say clearly, and she grits her teeth.
“I’m not.”
“Good,” I snap. “You have no right to be. I’m not biting your head off for fucking the Frenchman.”
Her head jerks back slightly, all but confirming my statement. Friend my ass. Friends with benefits, maybe. She’s not even trying to deny that they’re sleeping together, and anger surges through my body.
“Being jealous would make you a hypocrite,” I say, taking another step toward her. “Did you think you’d be the last person I fucked? You think I’d wait for you while you’re out screwing half of Europe? You think you’re that special?”
“Shutup, Macon,” she seethes through her teeth, and I smirk.
“Admit you’re jealous.”
“I am not.”
“Seems like you are,” I say, and her nose scrunches up in that cute little temper tantrum kind of way. “Seems like you care more that I wasgetting my dick wetthan that I left you with Evelyn.”
“Bullshit. You’re wrong. I don’t care who you date.”
“Not dating Nicolette, Lennon.”
I say it slowly and watch the smallest flash of relief pass over her face. I didn’t imagine it, and it spurs me on.
“I think you’re jealous,” I repeat. “I think you care.”
She shakes her head and forces out a raspy laugh. She tries for sardonic, but it just sounds fake.
