She stops cold at the bottom of the stairs, her eyes full of questions. I turn to face her, resisting the urge to brush the strands of hair back from her shoulders. ‘I pretty much only hang out in my room. The rest of the house is nasty.’
She smiles crookedly, unable to disagree that my house is disgusting. ‘Okay. But no funny business.’
‘Right. Unless you initiate it, in which case I make no promises to stop it.’
She swats my arm. ‘I won’t be starting anything, so don’t you worry.’
She follows me upstairs, and I’m glad she can’t see the dumb-ass smile planted on my face. She’s not at all like other girls I hang out with, and I like that. We climb the three flights of stairs in silence and when I push open the creaky door to the attic, Avery steps around me to peek inside. Taking the unfinished attic meant I had my own room. It didn’t matter that I didn’t have heat or air conditioning, I had my own space.
I watch as she takes in the queen-sized bed, neatly made in cream and navy bedding, desk and chair in the corner, a tall dresser and my acoustic on a stand in the corner. The room is large and open, with dark plank-wood floors and beamed ceilings. It’s freezing in the winter and stifling hot in the summer, but its September, so for the time being, it’s perfect. ‘What do you think?’
She wanders over to my desk and looks at the corkboard above it where I’ve tacked various photos, quotes, and clips from magazines. There’s a photo from last summer of me and my mom at the beach – before she went cuckoo for Cocoa-Puffs – and another of Trey and me having an impromptu jam session.
Avery points to the one of my mom. ‘You look like her. Same eyelashes.’
‘I know.’ Everyone always freaks over my eyelashes for some damn reason. It’s embarrassing.
Then she turns to survey the rest of my room. ‘You make your bed?’
I nod. ‘Habit I guess. I had to every day growing up. It was the one chore I had to do, and my mom would freak if I didn’t.’
She bites her lip, trying not to smile.
‘Come sit down.’ I slide her backpack from her shoulders and set it on the floor. She sits on the edge of my bed, while I pull out the desk chair for myself. ‘So, are you going to tell me what you were hiding from?’
She looks down and the terrified expression on her face is back.
Shit fuck.
‘Hey, I’m sorry. It’s okay.’ I hold up my hands in surrender. ‘You don’t have to tell me.’
She swallows, the tension in her shoulders dissipating slightly as she draws a deep breath. ‘Thanks.’
‘For what?’ I pull the chair closer to where she’s seated on the bed.
‘For being cool with my…crap.’ She twists her hands in her lap. ‘I guess I expected you to be different. The Jase Owens I’ve heard about is a major player and always…’ She pauses, biting her bottom lip.
‘Always what?’
Her cheeks blush the prettiest shade of pink. And on her fair skin, there’s no denying her embarrassment. ‘Horny,’ she finishes.
I crack a slight grin. ‘Well that part’s true, babe.’
Her eyes widen just slightly.
A sudden knock on my bedroom door interrupts our silence. ‘Hey man,’ a muffled voice calls through the door. It’s Trey. I’m sure he’s been briefed that I’m up here with a girl, so there must be a significant reason for him to interrupt.
‘Come in.’
His gaze registers Avery perched on the side of my bed like she’s ready to bolt, but his eyes slip past her to me. He doesn’t recognize her from Saturday night. Not surprising, given he was drunk off his ass.
‘Stacia’s here,’ he says.
Avery’s head turns to me, clearly wondering who Stacia is.
‘I’m busy.’
Trey chuckles. ‘Come out and deal with her pretty ass.’
‘Fuck man, tell her I’m with someone.’
‘You know she’ll just wait. That girl’s got no shame.’
Damn. He’s right.
‘Okay, tell her to come up.’
Avery
Hiding behind that dumpster seemed important at the time – I couldn’t have someone from my past spotting me, so I’d dived for cover. But now, awaiting someone named Stacia, I question what in the hell I’m doing in Jase’s bedroom. This isn’t me. I don’t follow guys home. I certainly don’t make myself at home on their beds. This is just asking for trouble. And now clearly he has a girlfriend, which makes me look like an even bigger idiot.
Trey leaves and Jase makes no move to explain. Since it’s too late to escape, I wait. A few seconds later, we hear footsteps climbing the stairs to the attic.
A petite girl with long blond hair rounds the corner and her megawatt smile fades as soon as she sees Jase isn’t alone.
‘Oh. Hey, Jase,’ she recovers and leans down to plant a kiss against his cheek.
God, could this be more awkward? I want to die.
Jase, having perfected his bored-with-life look, nods once at her and then flicks his gaze to mine. ‘This is Avery. Avery, this is Stacia.’
Stacia turns, but her smile was only reserved for Jase because it fades as she takes me in. There’s something she hates about me being up here with Jase, and the inner bitch inside me enjoys that fact. This girl just reeks of fake, and I’m instantly not a fan.
‘I didn’t know you had someone over.’ Stacia’s voice goes soft as she turns to Jase.
‘Well, I do. Did you need something?’ His voice is cool, unemotional.
Damn. This can’t be his girlfriend. Otherwise, he’s a real asshole. Of course I’m dying to know who she is, but I won’t ask. Not sure I could handle hearing that right now. Jase has treated me with nothing but kindness and respect, and I sort of want to continue thinking the best of him.
‘No. Just wanted to say hi.’ Stacia lifts one shoulder, then drops it and I can’t help but notice the way her chest sticks out when she does. The move is practiced, beyond obvious. God, this girl is annoying me in all of thirty seconds. Before the awkward silence has time to fully descend on us, Stacia bounds over toward me. ‘You look familiar.’
My heart stops.
Literally ceases to beat in my chest.
I hope to God she has no idea why I look familiar. I pull in a breath and shrug, working to convince myself it’s just a coincidence. She can’t know.
Desperately needing to change the subject, I ask, ‘How do you and Jase know each other?’
Jase answers for her. ‘Ex-girlfriend.’
Oh.
‘Yeah, some days I’m his ex-girlfriend, some days I’m…what am I exactly, Jase, on those nights you call me and beg me to come over?’
‘You wish, Stacia.’
She laughs, her mouth curving into a victorious smile. ‘Kay, Jase.’
My