Chapter 5

Shay

“Cill, I thought it was just you and me. Ride or die.” I whine when Anjal walks over to my car, holding my sister’s hand.

She shrugs. “He wants to see the eclipse too.”

I cross my arms, not caring if I’m rude or whiny. “Are you telling me I didn’t have to wake up at the crap crack of dawn to go see the sky turn dark in the middle of the day because you actually had someone else who wants to see this?”

Priscilla grabs my hands in hers. “We’ve always made these memories together. Even when one of us doesn’t care.”

I think back on the time she went with me to Mexico for the weekend, after she swore she’d never step foot across the border.

Even though I am looking around at the same darkness I’ll see when the moon passes in front of the sun. I don’t want her to make the memory without me.

“This sucks, Cill. I’m not the third wheel. He is.” I point at Anjal as if I don’t believe he’s the best thing to ever happen to my sister. I’m just not ready to share our adventures with him.

“You’re not the third wheel…”

I cross my arms again, waiting for the punch line that her hesitance tells me is coming.

“You’re more like the fourth wheel.”

My eyes grow wide at the notion of sitting in a vehicle with Jayce for the next twelve or more hours.

“Anjal doesn’t trust either of our cars to make it that far…”

“And we won’t all fit on my motorcycle,” Anjal adds.

No, no, no. My heart’s no longer in my chest. It’s at my feet. No, past my feet. Under the concrete I’m standing on. Why me? Why today?

A red Chevy 1500 pulls up next to us. Jayce rolls the window down. “Your chariot awaits,” he calls out in a tone of playful anticipation.

My libido betrays me with a pulse at the sound of his voice. One I don’t want him sniffing around.

I grab Priscilla by the hand and pull her to the side. “Please tell me you’re sitting in the back with me.” My eyes plead with her for a solution. One where I’m not stuck next to Jayce for several hours. Last night, I wanted to cling to those arms wrapped around me like a lifeline.

It’s not healthy. I’m definitely ill. My need for him must have a psychotic name for it.

Priscilla bites her lip, and I know that I’m going to hate what she says next. “What if we rotate? I’ll ride with you to start and every time we stop, we switch.”

I want to take her by the shoulders and scream in her face. She lives with Anjal and sees him every frickin’ day. Can’t she live without sitting next to him for twelve hours? I hold back my emotions for her sake. She’s lucky I love her as much as I do.

“Fine, but I’m starting up front, since I plan to sleep for the first few hours.”

In a huff, I slip off my cardigan with plans to use it as a pillow.

Anjal patiently waits with the door held open for me like he did for Priscilla.

Once inside the truck, I ball my sweater up and lay my head against the window.

I can’t look at him. He’s oozing yumminess in his casual shorts and t-shirt. We met when Anjal, him, and the others showed up searching for Priscilla. The crazy children of Theseus had kidnapped her. Hatred for our kind runs through their DNA.

Jayce wore jeans and a button-up dress shirt that night, but I quickly realized suits were more his style. At least, he leaves the tie behind. I feel like a slob next to him. Priscilla made me wear the dress I wore to her brother’s wedding. The same one I bought for her prom redo, which Jamie hosted.

This morning, he’s dressed more like me every day. I never see the need to wear my Sunday best—ever.

Last night, I nearly killed my clit, remembering how fine he looked in his four-piece tux.

I didn’t run from him because of the sweet butt trying to cut in. I ran from fear of what I might do if I remained in his arms for another second. Like get down on my knees and beg him never to leave me.

His ginger beard frames his alluring lips. Lips that my skin begs to feel. Is his beard soft? Will it burn like a rug, or will it rub against me like silk?

His swept back hair boasts a mix of blonde hues. It’s shorter on the sides for a clean look, but the length on top sometimes falls forward into his eyes, adding a rugged charm to his otherwise well-kept appearance.

While intercourse terrifies me from my experiences, my libido isn’t dead. I finished an entire bottle of wine all by myself in Anjal and Priscilla’s spare bedroom. I opened my laptop while drinking to write the perfect spicy scene between the two of us. I’m not a romance writer and have no plans to add it to my current work in progress, but the scene took over.

I played it repeatedly in my head when I laid down, hoping to find sleep. The several orgasms combined with the alcohol allowed me to meet the sandman for a few hours.

I remind myself that he’s not mine, and he never will be.

But those eyes. They are the main reason I can’t look too closely at Jayce. The smoldering heat behind those chocolate orbs has the power to captivate me. I get why so many females have dropped their panties, especially if he ever looked at them with an ounce of the intensity and allure that he carries in his gaze for me.