Roped In (Strings Book 2) Read online

“I do.” His voice was hoarse with need, and his mouth was slightly parted and all I desperately wanted to do was close the gap between us and take his lips with mine.

  “Fuck,” he said harshly before creating more space between us.

  The car ride from Jack’s place in Cambridge to mine in Back Bay was almost twenty minutes, and it was the tensest twenty minutes I’d ever experienced. Jack was gripping the steering wheel with one hand, the other braced on the window, and his left leg was bouncing while his other drove us. I couldn’t stop fidgeting, trying with all my strength to find something to do with my hands so I wouldn’t be tempted to touch him.

  Jack parked in front of a fire hydrant near my apartment, a further sign that he wouldn’t be staying, and I sat there for a moment before I got out, knowing he wouldn’t walk me to the door like I knew he wanted because it would create too much temptation.

  “Thank you for dinner,” I said quietly.

  “You’re welcome. Anytime.” His voice was tight like he was using every bit of his control.

  “And the movie.”

  “I had fun,” he replied shortly.

  I knew we were in too dicey a position for me to do it, but I still leaned over and kissed his cheek, lingering there for longer than I should have, losing myself in the long sigh Jack released as I did it.

  He stayed in his spot as I unlocked the front door of the small apartment building. I could feel his eyes on me, and right before I went in, I looked over my shoulder and waved, trying for friendly. I couldn’t see if he waved back or not, so I walked in and climbed the stairs to my third-floor studio. I left the lights off and went to the window and saw that Jack’s car was still parked in the same place.

  I watched the vehicle even though I couldn’t see him, wondering if all the thoughts that were racing through my head were in his as well.

  How much longer can I just be his friend?

  Why are we pretending we don’t want each other?

  Are we even pretending at this point?

  What is stopping him? Me? Us?

  I don’t know if I can stop myself next time.

  I don’t even know if there will be a next time.

  I want him. I need him. I want to be with him, but is there a way for both of us to get the relationship that we want? Is there a way we can do this and guarantee that neither of us gets hurt or has to do something we don’t like or give something up that we aren’t ready to give up?

  Eventually, Jack sped off, and I got into bed, refusing to shower and wash even the barest of his scent off me.

  Jesus Christ, Talia, you’re such a mess.

  Chapter 12

  “S o Jack’s here.” Catrina gave me a knowing look, and I rolled my eyes at her, sipping my drink and seething.

  “Yeah.”

  I glared at Catrina and she smirked. I was at Cat and Brody’s huge apartment for their annual Halloween party, and I was slurping down my drink quickly in their kitchen, ignoring all the partygoers and opting instead to drown my sorrows. Cat was dressed as Ariel from The Little Mermaid, which didn’t require many changes other than the costume itself because she had gorgeous long, red hair and already looked like a freaking Disney Princess. Brody was somewhere around in a black wig, dressed as Eric, and like Brody, I was also wearing a black wig, but mine was long and straight and parted down the middle into two braids, completing my Wednesday Addams costume.

  “How’s it going, being just friends?”

  I hadn’t heard a single word from Jack in the week since our ill-advised movie night. I’d gone to bed on edge and horny, dreaming of him, longing for him, and then as the days slipped on, it was clear that Jack had gone from wanting to be friends to wanting to be barely acquaintances. I knew he wanted to put boundaries between us for both our sakes, but that did not mean fucking ghosting me at the first sign of difficulty. Jack wanted things on his terms, so, fine. They would be on his fucking terms. And if that meant not speaking at all because we couldn’t control ourselves around each other, then I was going to respect his wishes and give him exactly what he was giving me.

  “Um, like fucking shit if you must know.”

  “Oh,” was all Catrina said.

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked slowly.

  “Not particularly, no.”

  “Tal—”

  “We watched a movie together last weekend, we almost let things go too far. I wanted to. And I would have if he hadn’t stopped it.” I said everything in one long, angry breath.

  “Oh, jeez, Tal…”

  “I know, you don’t have to say anything.” I took another long swig from my gin and tonic. “I know this entire thing is a mess, but I really don’t know what to do to fix it all. I want to be in his life. I know the casual sex thing is too hard—”

  “On you or him?” Catrina interjected.

  “What?”

  “Is casual sex too hard for you or too hard for him?” She had this knowing glint in her eye that made me want to rage at her even though I knew she had the best intentions.

  “Him, obviously,” I said quickly. Too quickly.

  Catrina rolled her eyes. “Oh, my god, can you please just admit you have feelings for him and having casual sex when you know those feelings are there is just as hard for you as it is for him?”

  I stared at Catrina for a moment before I turned toward the counter I was leaning on that had all the booze and mixers sprawled across it. I yanked at a bottle of tequila and a tiny plastic shot glass, poured one, and swallowed it down in one gulp.

  “Whatever.”

  “Whatever?” Cat repeated with a disgusted look. “Are you fifteen?”

  “Can you stop laying truth bombs on me and be a pal and do a shot with me so I don’t have to pathetically drink alone?”

  “I…” She looked caught off guard for a moment. “I’m not drinking tonight.”

  I scoffed. “What do you mean you’re not drinking? This is your apartment. You don’t have to worry about driving, which is the best part of having parties at your own place.” I reached for another plastic shot glass and poured two shots of tequila, sliding one over to Catrina and lifting mine up.

  “I’m not drinking,” she said again more firmly and like a light went off in my mind, everything clicked in place. “I have rehearsal tomorrow and—”

  “Oh, my god.”

  “Talia.”

  “Oh, my fucking god, you’re pregnant,” I hissed.

  “I—”

  “Catrina!”

  “What—”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I was almost shouting, and Catrina looked around, but there was no one in the kitchen but us.

  “I…” She sighed. “We haven’t told anyone yet,” she whispered. “It’s really early. I’m trying not to make a big deal about it. Like a fourth of pregnancies are miscarried or something like that, so I’m trying to—”

  I cut her off by grabbing her and enveloping her in a tight hug. My best friend was pregnant, and it made all the stuff with Jack seem so ridiculously insignificant even if only for that moment right then.

  “I’m so happy for you,” I said into her hair.

  “Thanks,” she said when I pulled back to look at her. Then she reached for the napkins that were on the counter. “Fuck, I’m crying. All I’ve done for weeks is cry.”

  I laughed and grabbed her free hand as she dabbed her eyes with the other.

  “I bet Brody is so happy,” I said. “I know he’s been wanting to pump a baby into that uterus for a long time.”

  Catrina huffed a watery laugh. “For sure. He’s been hinting at it since we got back from Greece.”

  I gave her a deadpan stare. “You mean your honeymoon in Greece four years ago?”

  Catrina nodded. “That’s the one.”

  “Wow.” I giggled. “Well, he finally got his wish.”

  “Who did?”

  Catrina and I both looked up as Callum walked into the kitchen dr
essed as a Harry Potter character, which was basically just him in a white shirt, black pants, and a Slytherin tie I’d gotten him from a store in the mall when Catrina and I were sophomores and he was a junior.

  “What are we talking about?” He grabbed one of the shots I’d poured, and he and I clanked the plastic together before we each downed the liquid.

  “Catrina’s pregnant.” My throat was raspy from the burn of the tequila.

  “Talia!”

  “What? It’s just Callum.”

  “I just said we weren’t—”

  “Seriously?” Callum’s eyes widened with excitement, and Catrina couldn’t help but smile.

  “Okay, yes, seriously, just don’t tell any—”

  Callum grabbed her into a tight hug the exact same way I had.

  “Wow, that’s amazing,” he said when he released her. “Congratulations.”

  I made mixed drinks for both Callum and I, and then the three of us went out to join the rest of the party. As soon as we got into the huge open living space, I spotted Jack across the room.

  He was Clark Kent for the evening wearing a white shirt and pants that he was bulging out of, and the white shirt was open to reveal a Superman t-shirt underneath. He was wearing these incredibly sexy black framed glasses that made him look like a hot professor, and all I wanted was to rip all his clothes off and have him fuck me with nothing on but those glasses. But when I saw who he was talking to, I didn’t want him to fuck me. I wanted to fucking kill him.

  He was talking to—no, flirting with—Nia Silver, a tall, gorgeous black girl that Cat knew because they’d become friends when Nia was in the chorus of Wicked when Cat was playing Elphaba five years ago. She was stunning and looked like she was dressed as some kind of sexy, dead bride with a tiny white dress, five-inch white stilettos, and well done makeup that made her look dead but somehow even more beautiful.

  When Callum saw the death stare I was aiming at them, he looked at me.

  “What’s going on there?”

  “Don’t ask,” Cat murmured.

  “I didn’t know you guys were—”

  “We aren’t,” I said, cutting Callum off.

  Cat ignored my short, snarky tone. “They reconnected like six weeks ago or so. A few weeks before he came to the show. They had sex, she ran—”

  “Like she does,” Callum said.

  “Fuck off,” I said with a sarcastic smile.

  “And now,” Catrina continued. “They’re trying to be friends.”

  Cal snorted. “How’s that working out?”

  Catrina laughed as I continued to seethe. “Yeah, not great.”

  When I looked up and saw Carver talking to Catrina’s cousin Gabe, I practically stormed over to them.

  “Hey, Talia,” Gabe said. “How are—”

  “Hey, Gabe,” I said quickly before turning to Carver. “Let’s dance.”

  Carver didn’t hesitate before taking me up on the offer. Michael had bailed on the party, so Carver was Gerald without an Arnold from Hey! Arnold, and I knew he was just as pissed off and ready to dance and drink it off as I was.

  I yelled at Brody to turn up the music, and he gave me a thumbs up before doing just that. The bass pumped through Cat and Brody’s sound system, and I lost myself to the music, throwing myself around, grinding on Carver, taking shots that anyone brought over to me while I tried to push away the insistent reminder in the back of my mind that Jack was nearby. I refused to look around the room and somehow seek him out because I knew there was a good chance I wasn’t going to like what I saw.

  I danced with Carver and eventually Callum, Cat, and Brody when they joined. At one point, a friend of Brody’s from college whose name I forgot came over to dance with us, too. He was tall and trim and good looking in a boy-next-door kind of way, but he didn’t dance like a boy-next-door. No, he danced close and dirty, and I let myself be guided where he led me, too buzzed and pissed off to care one way or another.

  After a while, my bladder became insistent, so I shuffled off to the bathroom, practically barreling over there because I was so scared I might catch Jack making out with Nia, or, even worse, dancing with her closely or talking to her in her ear—something intimate that I wouldn’t be able to bear.

  I went to the bathroom, washed my hands, and when I swung open the door, Jack was standing right there, hands shoved into his pockets.

  “Sorry,” I said, trying to sound calm and cool even though my heart was almost pounding out of my chest. “I’m done.”

  “I don’t have to go, I came to find you.”

  “Oh.”

  Neither of us said anything for several seconds.

  “How was dinner with your parents last weekend?” I asked because I didn’t know what else to say, but I also wanted to prove that I could be the bigger person, that I could do this friends thing even though seeing him talk to someone else ripped me to shreds.

  “Fine.” He fidgeted when he said it and wouldn’t look at me. Then he ran a stressed hand through his hair, and I softened somewhat at his expression. I knew he didn’t get along with his parents, and the part of me that cared about him more than I cared about my petty jealousy had me asking if he wanted to talk about it.

  He shook his head. “No.” He sighed. “It’s just been a rough week. That dinner fucked up everything for me, and I haven’t been able to relax since.”

  I wouldn’t have even known he was that torn up over it by how he’d been smiling and chatting with Nia earlier, but now that we were alone it looked like he was ready to let his guard down and be honest about whatever was bothering him. He had dropped the pretense, just for me, and while I felt honored that he was obviously comfortable enough with me to share that part of himself, I was also worried by how strung out he suddenly looked.

  “What happened?”

  Jack looked at me and then looked at the floor again. He looked vulnerable—shoulders hunched, body tense—when he looked back at me.

  “They invited Rachel.”

  It felt like he’d shoved a freezing cold ice pick into my gut. A chill settled through me and the pain that started in my stomach and radiated through my entire torso was overwhelming. Everything made sense suddenly—why he hadn’t spoken to me all week, why he’d been avoiding me all night, why he looked so worried about talking to me now. He and Rachel were getting back together, and it had taken all week for him to build up his courage enough for him to tell me, knowing how it would destroy me even if I pretended it didn’t.

  Blood was rushing in my ears. My face felt hot despite the chill that had washed over me. I could feel my hands and feet start to sweat, and I knew I had to get out of here before I had a fucking panic attack. I couldn’t stand here and watch him let me down gently, listen as he told me that it had been fun while it lasted but he needed to get serious again and that meant not spending time with a woman he used to fuck while he was getting back with his fiancée.

  I wanted to scream. I wanted to hit him and tell him I hated him, but instead, my flight instincts kicked in.

  I didn’t know if I said anything to him, but before I realized what I was doing or how I’d even gotten there, I was on Catrina and Brody’s balcony, hurling into a potted plant. Vaguely, I heard a voice behind me and felt someone rubbing my back, but I kept on spilling the contents of my stomach and dry heaving when there was nothing left.

  After a short while, I was being wrapped in a hug, small arms holding me tightly and a quiet voice telling me that everything would be okay.

  “What happened?” Catrina asked.

  “J-Jack—” I choked. “H-he—I-I f-fucked it all u-up,” I said through sobs. “You were r-right.”

  It was all I managed before I started crying too hard to speak, clutching the fabric at Catrina’s back as I wept into her shoulder, praying that the music at the party was loud enough that no one would be able to hear my pathetic wails.

  The sounds of the party got louder for a moment, and I thought my head was final
ly starting to clear, but then I heard a voice and realized someone had opened and closed the door.

  “Talia.”

  I almost collapsed when I heard Jack say my name. I held onto Catrina harder and shook my head into her shoulder violently.

  “I don’t think now’s a good time,” Catrina said quietly, rubbing circles on my back.

  “Talia, I’m sorry. I don’t—”

  “I don’t want to hear it, okay?” Catrina kept a protective arm around me as I whirled around. I probably looked like a complete mess, dark eyeliner and mascara most likely streaked down my face. “Don’t fucking apologize. You don’t have anything to apologize f-for.” My voice broke on the last word, and I took a deep breath so I could finish what I needed to say with as much of my dignity still intact as possible. “I know I have no claim over you. I know we’re just friends, but I can’t do this. I won’t—I won’t be your friend while you get back with someone you were miserable with just because you can’t stand doing the casual thing. I know I’m not her. I know I’m not—”

  Catrina was stiff as a board next to me when Jack said, “Talia, what are you talking about?”

  “Rachel!” Catrina’s arm tightened around me when I shouted Jack’s fiancée’s name. “You and her—”

  “Me and her, nothing, Talia.” Jack looked angry now, completely ignoring Catrina and zeroing in on me. “I wasn’t going to say that her and I got back together. Jesus. No. Never. I just wanted to fucking talk to you about what happened because I missed talking to you all week, and I just needed to vent to you even though I know things are stupid and complicated between us right now.”

  “Then…” I opened my mouth and closed it, taking another deep breath as I started to take in what Jack was saying. “Then why didn’t you talk to me all week?”

  Jack sighed and ran a hand down his face. “Because I’m trying to give us both space to figure out what the fuck is going on. I want to be with you even though I know you and I want different things, and when you came over to my place last weekend, I felt all fucked up when I dropped you off because I knew we were crossing lines. That’s why I didn’t talk to you. I thought that’s what you’d want—”