“Nope,” I state firmly. “That ship sailed. Sailed and caught on fire before it sank. Put my pillow down, please. That’s just… creepy.”
As if I didn’t smell his pillow each time he crashed here the bazillion times he slept over when he and Grey were younger.
“Apples,” he says, taking another big whiff. “You never smelled like apples before.”
I frown. I don’t use apple shampoo or bodywash. I won’t let myself think about what Jase smells like. Because I memorized his warm, spicy, cinnamon scent a very long time ago. Though I refuse to think about that right now. Nope – not thinking about how apples and cinnamon go perfectly together…
He says, “Then just as you flopped into me in that car we were thinkin’ would take us to the airport, that’s what you smelled like. Dreamt about apples on the flight over. Dreamt you handed me one, then I woke up. Used to dream about apples, dream I’d be trying to get them, but they were always out of reach. And a second after I knew you were mine, I blacked out. Since then, you’ve been out of reach, too. I fucked up, Bailey. I’m really sor–”
“Whatever,” I stomp into my closet and slam the door behind me. But my face is flaming, so is my neck. I’m remembering that sensual dream I had about Jase on the flight. And him telling me I smelled like an apple he wanted to take a bite out of.
I feel lightheaded now because the conversation I had with the passenger beside me who knitted the baby booties on the flight washes over me. Baby booties for my daughter. A baby girl and a puppy.
My eyes land on my still-packed carry-on sitting on the floor and oh fuck… I’m feeling like I’m on the verge of a panic attack at all the sensations flooding me right now, but he opens my closet door and this instantly changes my headspace.
“I need to get dressed!” I inform, extra-snottily.
He frowns and gives me a disapproving look. “I’m tryin’ to say I’m sorry, Bay. This isn’t you. This-” He eyes me from head to toe- “This attitude. You don’t act like this.”
“I guess this is the new me,” I snap.
He snaps back, “You need to cool it and fuckin’ listen to me. Let me explain.”
“I don’t need to do anything, Jason. You’re the one who needs to do something, namely get out of here so I can get dressed. You already explained and I don’t care what you have to say. I need coffee and I need to get to the library.”
He pulls in a big breath, eyeing me from head to toe, looking frustrated before he blows out a frustrated sigh. “So, you’re giving me a dose of my own medicine. Message received, Bailey.”
“This isn’t me giving you anything. I’m beyond done giving you everything. We’re in the same pack and you’re Grey’s best friend and on the council so I’ll have to deal with seeing you around, but I want no part of any of what you want here. Your apology is unnecessary. It won’t make a lick of difference.”
Because it’s empty. It’s empty because he doesn’t get it and won’t even try to get it. He’s just a talking head telling me what he thinks will get him into my pants.
“But you did though. You wanted me for a long time.” He leans in, eyes devouring me.
I ignore the flutter it generates and practically spit, “And you’re even more of an asshole for throwing that in my face right now, you cocky jackass!”
He sighs and raises his hands defensively. “Time out. I’m gonna shower,” he says.
“I’m going to work.”
“I’ll come. We’ll get some coffee and sit down and have a conversation about all this.”
“There’s nothing to say. You don’t need to come with me. In fact, I’d prefer you didn’t. I have a busy day ahead of me.”
“Told ya… until I’ve claimed you and spent a week or two getting to know every inch of your body and making sure you’re not only wearing my mark but also that you smell like me, I’m your shadow.” He turns and struts to the bathroom.
I tear my eyes off his firm bubble butt and mutter, “Not if I can help it.”
After quickly getting clothes on, I grab my phone and my purse, rushing downstairs and straight out the door without speaking to my father who’s sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee.
***
By the time the library’s coffee pot beeps signaling the coffee is ready, Jase is pounding on the locked library door.
I pretend not to hear it while I stir my coffee.
His scent wafts in a minute later and I see he got the spare keys from the supply room. Damn. I shoot him a dirty look and march into the bathroom with my coffee and my purse so I can put some makeup on and deal with my wet, unbrushed hair.
I’ve already sent a text to my council group chat, telling them I’m here and am going to dig in to see what I can find on Jared Stone and his pack.