22. Waylon

Chapter Twenty-Two

WAYLON

" S o let me get this straight..." I want to stop her, but Jenny just keeps going, undeterred. "Fucking him, without talking at all, and then not saying anything afterward until he kicks you out isn't a good plan?"

"Fuck off," I say with no venom, laying my head down on her marble countertop I'm currently leaning on and try to resist bashing my head into it.

"What were you thinking?"

I lift my head, and I don't actually see any judgment there or amusement. She's looking at me like I'm a kicked puppy, which is kind of how I feel after getting back to Kansas City this morning. After catching a flight out of LA.

"I wanted to see him."

"Right," she says, leaning against the counter on the other side, facing me. "But don't you think you should have tried words instead of moaning and grunting your hello?"

I don't tell her to fuck off again—at least not with words—but I'm pretty sure my face says it. She just grins at me, and I roll my eyes with a heavy, deep sigh. "I was going to talk to him, but he kissed me."

"Made you stupid, huh? I've heard about kisses like that." She stands up and walks over to the fridge, looking at it before huffing and closing the door. "So what are you going to do?"

"Nothing," I say absently, climbing onto the bar stool at the counter. "He hates me. He wanted me to go. So I left."

"You're being an idiot," she says, walking back over to stand in front of me, crossing her arms.

"Drop it," I try, but it's Jenny, and she doesn't.

"No," she says effortlessly. "You love him."

"We don't have time for love," I throw back at her because if anyone understands, it's her. "I thought you wanted me to end this anyway. Shouldn't you be happy?"

She frowns deeply at that, a slight wrinkle between her brows. "That was before I saw you. You have it bad, my friend." She drops her folded arms. "I didn't know it until I saw you, but you're really in love with him. Like actual love."

She says it like she's almost shocked. "You said I fell for him."

"And you denied it," she shoots back.

I did. I wanted it to not be true. "It doesn't matter. I'm a professional."

"Cool. So don't fuck your other clients," she says and waves me off. "But you're in love with this one, so don't be an idiot."

"What the hell does that even mean?" I ask angrily, not even sure who I'm mad at. I don't think it's her.

She leans down on her elbows on the marble counter and looks directly at me. "We can have both, if that's what we want. You don't have to choose. You can love him and have him, and you can love your career and have it too. Don't let them win."

I sit up straight, knowing she's talking about my parents. People I very rarely talk about. "I'm not. I don't do this for them." Not anymore.

"I know you don't. I know you love your career." She stands up straight, but she's still looking right at me. "But I also know that you think love will make you weak. I used to think that too."

I try like hell to swallow the lump in my throat away, but it won't budge. "It does make you weak. I'm a fucking mess."

She smiles at that in a way that can only be described as sweet, but that's not right. Jenny isn't sweet. "Fix it, sweetie." She rounds the corner and pulls me into a hug. "You love him, and it's okay."

I wrap my arms around her reluctantly, not wanting to feel this. "I messed it all up."

"As men tend to do," she says with what I know is a smile on her face, even though I can't see her. My face is buried in her neck.

"What if he won't let me fix it?"

"He will," she says with so much certainty. "I know he loves you too. Who wouldn't?" she asks teasingly, and it does what she intended.

I let out a little laugh, even as tears start to fall from my eyes, ruining her expensive shirt. But she doesn't push me away.

"It's going to be okay."

"Love really sucks," I say, sniffling, and she laughs, hugging me tighter.

"Yeah, it doesn't look fun." I sniff again and pull back enough to see her face.

"When are you going to go through this? I want to return the favor."

She tosses her head back and laughs. "Never. Ever." She winks at me and brushes a tear away from my cheek. "But if I do, I know you'll be there to laugh at my dumb ass."

That makes me laugh again, but it's short, and I barely feel it. Because I don't know if I can fix this.

And I'm really not used to this feeling.