Jagged Harts, page 15
I pull out my phone and shoot her a text.
Me: Hey I got a new part for Betty. Going to put it in if you want to stop by.
The typing bubbles pop up only a few minutes later. I watch my phone closely both excited and nervous to see what she has to say to me after the way I treated her.
Aubrey: Nope.
Nope? That’s all I get? One word? Fuck. I decide it is best to try to shrug it off. I will let her be pissy and brush me off for now. I am sure in a couple of days she will calm down and things will go back to normal.
Looks like I was wrong since it has now been a week since the party and Aubrey has dodged me at every attempt that I have made. Even when we bump into each other at school she doesn’t make eye contact with me. It’s like I don’t even exist in the same world as her anymore. I would never admit it to anyone but it actually kinda fucking hurts.
I know that all of this is my fucking fault but shit, did she have to rub Cole in my face like that? She has to know that I feel something for her. I have a reputation and it definitely isn’t being at a chick’s beck and call, fixing her car, taking care of her all night and talking practically all day every day. Especially not for a chick that I am not even hooking up with.
I decide to send yet another text. It’s embarrassing how many texts and calls I’ve sent her over the last week that have all gone completely unanswered. Too bad for her, I’m persistent as fuck.
Me: Bree, talk to me. Please. I miss you.
Normally me opening up to anyone or talking about feelings is a hard pass, but me demanding her to speak to me or pretending that nothing happened at all hasn’t worked for me so far, so I need to switch tactics. Though I am not really holding my breath for a response.
CHAPTER
NINETEEN
AUBREY
Dax: Bree, talk to me. Please. I miss you.
I have probably re-read this text 10 times since getting it this morning. My fingers twitch, ready to remind him that I only let people I like call me Bree, but I resist. All other times he has reached out he has been a demanding asshole, talking about how I better hear him out and a bunch of other shit and even a few where he had the audacity to pretend like nothing ever happened. All of those texts were from the same douche who tried, and succeeded, at humiliating me in front of an entire party.
This text is different, though. This is from the Dax that only I see. The guy that I like spending time with. The one who spends all his free time fixing poor Betty and covers me with a blanket when I fall asleep on the couch and looks after me all night when I have a concussion. This is from the guy that I thought I was starting to feel something for.
I don’t typically hold grudges, especially over careless words. I have had plenty thrown at me in my life to not let them rattle me too much. But despite my irritation, I have come to care about Dax’s opinion, so his words cut deeper than most others would have. It doesn’t even matter anymore. He is nothing but a playboy asshole and I am so done with him. Though, I am also sick of him badgering me, so as much as I would love to keep making him suffer, I respond.
Me: I’ll be at your place at 5.
I try not to focus too hard on what I’m going to say, or what I am going to hear him say when I get there. I just want to get through one full day without Dax plaguing my thoughts.
Fat chance of that.
Cole wanted to hangout this afternoon, but I told him that I was going to Dax’s to get him off my back. He told me that he didn’t like the idea of me being alone with him when he blew up on me last time I saw him, but I honestly don’t give a shit. Cole insisted on driving me and picking me up and I relented at that. If I don’t have to pay for a ride then I will take what I can get.
We pull up to Dax’s driveway a little before 5PM and Cole turns in his seat to face me.
“Call me if you need me. I’ll be here in 5 minutes. Or I can just wait here. Whatever you want.”
I roll my eyes. I appreciate what a great friend he is, but he can be so smothering somedays I can’t fucking breathe around him.
“Will do, thank you.” I pat his hand before I slide out of the car.
Cole drives away as I walk up to the door to Dax’s garage. When I step inside, I see Dax beating up the heavy bag he has hanging off to the side. His back is to me, so he hasn’t seen me yet. I am not really sure how to start this conversation off. I am not too good with touchy feely stuff and unfortunately I foresee that shit being brought up today. Feelings fucking suck.
I see an extra pair of gloves sitting off to the side and decide that it might be easier to listen to his bullshit if I can hit him when I want. I start to pull them on as I shout out to him.
“Want to spar?”
His movements stop instantly, and his spine goes ram rod straight. He turns and looks over to me, his eyes slowly looking me up and down as if recommitting what I look like to memory. It makes me uncomfortable because a warm feeling spreads through my chest and I don’t know how to deal with that.
“Hey, Bree. I-”
I hold up my hand, cutting him off. I lift my hands into a defensive pose and wave for him to advance me. He cocks his head to the side for a moment and throws me a ‘you serious’ look before he lifts his own hands and comes towards me.
Dax gets close enough to be within arm’s reach and I take a swing, missing as he easily ducks it. I stay light on my feet, bouncing around as I wait for him to counter. Only he doesn’t. He just stands there guarding himself. Guess I am the aggressor today. What’s new?
“Look, Bree. I’m really-”
“Save it. I don’t give a fuck about your bullshit apology. Just fight me asshole,” I snap.
Okay maybe I do hold grudges. It looks like I have some pent-up anger about this whole thing. I go to strike Dax and am able to graze his lower jaw. Not enough to do much damage but enough to connect. He spins on me and wraps his huge arms around me, holding me tight against his chest in a bear hug. The smell of leather and mint infiltrates my senses, making me a little woozy for a second as he lowers his head down to my ear slowly.
“I just want to apologize about the other night. I was drunk and mad. I wasn’t thinking. I am really sorry.”
Doing my best to ignore the sincerity pouring through his words, I throw my head back for a head butt. Because of our height difference it only catches his chin but the resounding crack that it makes tells me that it hurt, nonetheless.
“Shit” he barks, quickly releasing me from his hold.
I whirl on him and land a kick just above his right knee that makes his leg buckle. Instead of falling to the ground like I was hoping, he only staggers to the side for a moment before regaining his balance.
“Tell me, Dax, what the hell do you think gives you the right to treat me the way you did?” He goes to answer but I cut him off. “You are the biggest womanizer on campus, maybe in the whole damn town. There is a different girl on your arm every time that I see you and you have a reputation of not even remembering their fucking names. You spend the day with me at your dead mother’s grave and your night fucking some dumb bitch in my work’s bathroom. Yet somehow, I am the whore when I dance with a friend? And I am just supposed to be okay with that!” I shout.
While he is absorbing my words, I throw a few jabs along with a couple of kicks. He blocks almost everything I throw at him, but I do land several good shots.
Obviously, there would be no competition if he was actually exchanging blows with me and not acting like a heavy bag, but I need this. Beating on him is finally releasing some of the anger that I haven’t been able to release since last Saturday. I have avoided going to the gym because I didn’t want to run in to him, so this release is much needed.
I have done a good job of avoiding him in general. Anytime him and his friends came into The White Oak I switched sections with whoever else was working with me and the few times he tried to corner me on campus I just kept walking like I never saw him. But I did see him, I always see him.
Dax is actually sweating right now and appears to be lightly catching his breath. Which makes me prouder than I can express. I continue my attack on Dax, though I don’t have the stamina that he does and I’m running out of steam fast. I open my body up briefly to deliver a kick but as soon as I do I see that it was the wrong move.
He sees the opening and has me on the ground pinned underneath him before I can even blink. I do my best to buck him off my body and wriggle free like I did with Collins, but Dax is 260lbs of solid muscle and I’m fucking spent. On top of my exhaustion my ribs are also fucking killing me, and I wouldn’t be surprised if I just took a step back in my healing process.
Heaving out an aggravated sigh, I tap out and he eases off of me quickly before laying on his back next to me as he faces the ceiling.
“How did you know about the girl at the bar?” He whispers so quiet that I barely hear it.
I turn my head to face him and lock eyes with those nuclear orbs.
“People talk, Dax. Especially about you. I have heard more stories about your exploits than I can even count. So, if you are so busy with every other girl in the world then why do you care what I do? And why would you tear me down like that in front of everyone? I thought you had a little more respect for me than that.”
I let the disappointment and hurt bleed through my words. I want him to see how bad he fucked up and that I won’t let anyone treat me that way, no matter who they are.
“I didn’t sleep with her. I kissed her and I just…couldn’t.”
I blink at him slowly as I let his words sink in. Why does a small part of me feel relieved to hear that? It is strange as fuck. The stranger thing though is the insurmountable rage that I feel at the thought of him kissing someone else. Not that I thought I was the last girl that he has kissed over these last few weeks but now I know for sure that I am not. And that pisses me off. Before I can say anything he speaks again.
“I’m really sorry about the party, Bree. I didn’t mean it. Not one word,” he says looking genuinely ashamed.
I shake my head at his attempt to sidestep my question.
“Answer me,” I practically beg. “Why would you do that to me when you are out there living it up. Even if I was making out with every guy in the room, how is that any different from what you do? Why did you treat me the way you did?”
He blows out a deep breath as his eyes roam over my face before locking on mine.
“I think you know why.”
I turn my head to face the ceiling and let out a shallow exhale. Fuck. I can’t let his words get to me. I can’t let them mean anything. I shove and cram every single feeling that stirs at those words and the look on his face into the smallest box in the darkest corner of my chest.
“Well, I’m not your girl and you’re not my man. We shouldn’t have opinions on how we spend time with others, so mind your business and I will mind mine. And in case it wasn’t clear, I will drop your ass if you ever call me a whore again. Ever.”
He nods solemnly and opens his mouth to say something before I shove his shoulder lightly, trying to break the tension and hoping to end this conversation. He gives me a small smile and stands up offering me his hand. I take it and stand with him.
“Want to see how your baby is coming?” He asks.
I perk up at that and instantly the tension in the air melts away.
“Yeah.”
Dax nods his head for me to follow him. When I come over to stand next to Betty, I notice a brand-new set of tires on her.
“Dax, we didn’t talk about tires. I didn’t know you needed the money for them so soon.”
He shrugs. “Forget about it. I had these lying around anyways. Besides your old set were so worn you were ready to blow a tire, or four. I want you safe.”
He ducks his head at that last part as if embarrassed to admit that he cares about me. My heart warms and I pull him into a hug and kiss his cheek, selfishly lingering for a few seconds before I pull back.
“Thank you,” I say softly.
Dax looks down at me intently before he lets a genuine smile spread across his face. After a few seconds he turns to look back at Betty.
“She should be all good to go by next week. I can probably get her back to you after Thanksgiving.”
“Really?!” I ask excitedly.
“Yeah, just a couple more small things and she will be good as new...well she will be a hell of a lot better than how she used to be,” he teases as I swat at his arm.
Dax shoves his hands into his pockets as he shifts his weight from side to side for a second. He looks almost nervous which doesn’t seem right because this is Dax motherfucking Hart we are talking about.
“So, uhm. I don’t know if you are doing anything, but Marcus usually puts on a hell of a spread for Thanksgiving and it’s only the two of us. So, if you aren’t busy, well...you know you’re welcome anytime.”
My smile turns down a bit at the fact that I won’t be around. A low-key Thanksgiving with Dax and Marcus sounds really nice actually. I can’t help but feel kind of touched that he would want me to come over.
“Actually, I won’t be in town. I already have plans.”
Disappointment flashes across his face before he schools it and nods.
“Oh yeah. For sure. Visiting family?”
“Yeah, well, not my family. I was just going to hang at my dorm, but Cole invited me to his family’s place.”
His eyes harden at the mention of Cole before he gives me a curt nod and sharp, “Cool.”
Silence stretches between us for a moment until my phone rings. I look down to see that it’s Cole.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Sorry to bug you. Marcus just called me in for the dinner shift. I have to be there in 30. I didn’t want to leave you without a ride, so I can pick you up now before I head in?”
I almost tell him that I’ll find another ride, but I look up to see Dax watching me with a stony expression and decide that our visit should probably be done for the day.
“Sure, that’s fine.”
“Alright, I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Okay,” I say before hanging up. Dax is still staring at me almost expectantly. “My ride will be here soon.” I explain.
He works his jaw for a moment before he speaks.
“Cole?” He asks, his tone terse.
“Yeah,” I say softly. He raps his knuckles on the hood of Betty and moves back to his heavy bag without sparing me another glance.
“Cool. Catch you later then.”
Then he starts wailing on the bag way harder than he was when I first arrived. The tension in the room has returned and it is so thick that you could practically choke on it. I slip out of the door wordlessly and wait outside for Cole.
I shouldn’t feel guilty that I made plans with Cole. How was I supposed to know that Dax would invite me over? Before an hour ago we weren’t even speaking. I don’t feel guilty, he’s just bummed he won’t have a friend at dinner, and he isn’t a fan of Cole, that’s all. But the way my gut is churning tells me that’s not all.
CHAPTER
TWENTY
AUBREY
It’s the morning of Thanksgiving and Cole has just finished loading up our bags into the back of his truck before we hit the road. He lives in a small town about three hours north of Glenfield. I insisted that if Cole was going to force me to spend a holiday with his family the least he could do was buy me road trip snacks. He happily agreed and proceeded to practically buy one of everything at the gas station on our way out of town.
The drive has been pretty nice. We have talked a little bit, listened to music a lot and just enjoyed the scenic drive. But as we get closer nerves start to pool in my stomach.
“I am kinda nervous,” I mutter more to myself than anything.
Cole’s eyebrows raise in surprise as he turns to face me before looking back towards the road.
“I don’t think that I have ever known you to be nervous about anything, like ever.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t have a whole lot of experience meeting the parents of my friends. I haven’t really had that great of friends before you and Kayla.”
I look out the window as I try to think about the last time that I met anyone’s parents really. It was probably my last boyfriend’s parents when I was 16. I went over to his house to hang out. They were nice enough at first but when they found out where I lived they called me trash to my fucking face and told me that I was never allowed to see to their son again. He bowed down and took it like a little bitch and that left a bad taste in my mouth about meeting anyone’s parents, friend or not. It also left me with a distaste about boyfriends in general which is why I stuck to casual hookups for the last couple of years.
Before I know it, Cole and I are pulling up a long driveway that has a white moderately sized rambler with red shutters and a blue front door smack dab in the middle. The yard is beautifully manicured and there is even a front porch swing. See? Norman fucking Rockwell painting.
Cole kills the truck and undoes his buckle, scooting over to me. He tilts my chin up with his fingers forcing me to meet his gaze. Those ice blue eyes are intently focused on me as he speaks.
“They are going to love you.” He pauses for a moment glancing down at my lips and then back to my eyes before he says softly, “Who couldn’t?”
My eyes widen and my stomach drops. Ah fuck. I knew I should have faked the flu or something. Nothing good will come from this weekend, mark my words.
Something changes in Cole’s face before he gives me that typical easy smile. He plants a quick kiss on my cheek as he slides out of his door.
“C’mon. If I know my mom she is probably watching us, trying to get a glimpse of the first girl that I’ve ever brought home.”
