Will's POV
God fucking damn it. My need to slap this idiot in the face increases every time I see him. I know exactly how this situation looks. Jessi's wearing nothing but a towel and my hair is still wet. I don't give a fuck what he thinks, but I can tell that all Jessi wants is to hide in the corner. I hate him even more for making her feel embarrassed, if that's even possible.
"What are you doing over here?" I try to lower my voice but it doesn't work. He never comes on my side of the house. It's not just that he doesn't want to, we made an agreement that he wasn't allowed over here. What kind of game is he trying to play here? Whatever it is, I'm not in the mood.
"Well," he clears his throat. If he doesn't remove his eyes from her in two seconds, I really am going to slap him. "I just came to ask Jessi if she wanted to join Leah and I for some hot chocolate tomorrow. I would invite you tonight, but it's already so late."
"She's not your fucking friend. Why do you have to discuss life with her over drinks?" I say fuming.
"Will," Jessi whispers squeezing my hand. It makes me relax a little, but not nearly enough. Agreeing to Leah is one matter, but surly she won't say yes to this jackass.
"I would love to," she says with a little smile. I'm going to punch a fucking wall. "Is Will allowed to come?" Is Will allowed to come? I'm allowed to do whatever the fuck I want. I don't need Ethan's approval to do shit.
"Of course, if he wants." They're talking about me like I'm not even here. I don't even know what to say. I need Jessi to shut up and Ethan to get the hell out of here before he makes matters worse. I run my hands through my hair and pull at the ends.
Don't punch the wall. Don't punch Ethan's face. Don't punch anything. I have to keep repeating those three things over and over again or I'll loose control.
"I'll see you later," Ethan says a little bit uncomfortably. He better be uncomfortable. That's what he gets for coming to my side of the house.
"Bye," Jessi gives him a little wave with the hand that's not holding up her only clothing. As soon as he's gone, I grab Jessi and slam the guest room door behind us.
"What the fuck?! I thought you were on my side!" I can barley control my actions right now, let alone my words.
"There are no sides. I don't even know him yet. At least give me a chance to properly meet your parents," she says so innocently. That just about pushes me over the edge.
"NEVER call him my parent!" She jumps back against the door in fright. I don't mean to scare her. I don't mean to take all my hatred for Ethan out on her, but I just can't help it.
"I'm sorry," she says softly. She must hate me. I don't know why she's still my friend at all to be honest. "But I'm not backing down from this. I'm going over to their side for hot chocolate tomorrow and I hope that you would join me." I can't figure out if it's fucking annoying how persistent she's being or endearing how much she wants to meet my 'family', or whatever they're called. It doesn't matter in the end. She cannot get to know them over drinks and small sandwiches. I would never forgive myself if she gets sucked into my world.
"You don't get it Jessi!"
"You're right, I don't. Because you won't tell me shit!" She says a little louder.
"Because I don't trust you! Because you can't handle it! Remember last time you didn't listen to me? You ended up drugged at a party! I told you not to go, but you don't give a shit what I say. You just do whatever the fuck you want. Are you so fucking dumb that you're going to make the same mistake of not listening to me again? Wake up Jessi! You don't know what you're doing!" She doesn't respond. I see a tear roll down her cheek before she grabs the clothes I gave her and runs into the bathroom locking the door.
Shit. I'm the jackass. None of this is her fault. All she's trying to do is get to know me, and I'm pushing her away. I mean, I guess that was the goal all along; don't let her get close to me. But I don't have to make her cry in the process. Why does she care so much? Why does she care about me? I'm nothing but a damaged piece of shit, but she obviously hasn't gotten close enough to see that yet. I need to keep it that way. But if I'm going to keep her at all, I've got to learn how to not be such a dick.
I pace back and forth in the guest room for a little while as I decide what to do. I don't think I'm in the right place to apologize right now. I'll probably just end up yelling at her again, and that gets me nowhere. She doesn't have a car to get home, it's too far to walk, and I know she's too shy to ask Ethan for a ride, which means she's stuck here if I don't take her. That's what I'll do. I'll let her have the guest room and I'll go back to my room and sleep it off. In the morning, the cloud of anger should be gone, and I can talk to her like a civilized person. That should work.
She's still in the bathroom and it's almost one in the morning. I'm sure she'll come out and go to bed when she knows I'm no longer in the room. I make sure I close the door loud enough for her to hear, and then I walk down the hall to my room. I crash into my bed and instantly fall asleep.
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It feels like I've only been sleeping for ten minutes when I hear rustling around the room. It must be the trees against the window. It's storming pretty bad outside. I close my eyes just as I hear the sound again. It doesn't sound like wood against glass, it sounds like feet against carpet. My clock says 4:17 am. I've been asleep longer than I realized.
I sit up in bed just as a flash of lightening illuminates my room. Jessi is standing in my sweatshirt and pants on the other side of the room.
"Jess?" I say as I turn on the little light next to my bed.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." She looks perfect in my clothes. Her hair is tied up out of her face and the sweats go way past her hands and feet. I've never seen anyone in my clothes before. Some girls have tried to take my shirt and wear it but I never let them. I want to give Jessi my whole closet so she can wear something of mine everyday.
"I couldn't sleep," she says quietly. I can just imagine her cheeks turning red even though it's too dark for me to see.
"I don't let anyone sleep in the same bed as me." That's actually true. It's one of the many reasons I don't let anyone come back to my house. If I'm at other people's houses, I can just leave. It's hard to kick people out, especially when they're drunk. There's something too intimate about sleeping with someone all night and I don't like it. I fuck girls because it helps me forget everything that's going on around me, and it doesn't effect me the next day like alcohol. Plus, my stomach, mind, and fists all know that I don't handle alcohol very well.
"No, I just wanted to sleep on your couch." I looked over at the big black couch in my room and then back at her.
"How did you know I had a couch in here?"
"I just figured," she says playing with her fingers. Something tells me she would have slept on the floor next to my bed if I didn't. A crack of thunder sounds and Jess jumps at least a foot in the air. She must be scared of thunderstorms.
"Yeah that's fine. You can sleep on the couch." She thanks me and curls her knees up into her chest on the opposite side of the room. I want to let her into my bed and wrap my arms around her trembling body, but I don't. I just turn off the light and try to fall back to sleep.
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"Jess?" About every five minutes, the sound of thunder fills the room and I hear Jessi whimper like a lost animal. It went on for about thirty minutes before I decided that I couldn't take it anymore. The soft noises coming from her mouth tug at my heart every time.
"I'm sorry. I'll go back to the guest room," she says in a shaky voice.
"No." I turn on the little light again and see her sitting on the couch with wide eyes. She looks so small compared to my room. It's like she's a toy doll, only she's slightly shaking.
"Come here." She tentatively gets up and sits on the edge of my bed.
"A little closer," I say opening up my arms. She scoots close enough so I can pull her into my chest. She wraps her arms around my stomach and grips tightly to the shirt on my back. Her breathing steadies and she stops trembling after a few minutes. I run my hand up and down her back not saying anything until I feel her grip loosen a little.
"I'm sorry I yelled at you," I whisper into her hair.
"That's not why-"
"I know," I interrupt. Another crack of thunder and she flinches in my arms. "But I am sorry."
"It's okay." She hides her face from me in my chest.
"No, it's not. But I'm too tired to argue with you again." I don't think I want her sleeping in the same bed as me, but I can't bear to send her back over to the couch.
"Let's play a game," I say bringing her back enough so I can see her. The best thing to do right now is distract her until the storm passes.
"It better not be like the one from the party," she says and I chuckle.
"No, let's play twenty questions." She smiles a little at my idea. "But nothing too private," I add just so we're clear. "I'll go first. What's your favorite color?"
"Whoa, Hastings. That's a little too personal for me." I pick up the pillow behind me and throw it at her. She catches it laughing and hugs it into her chest. I wait for her to throw it back, but she keeps it against her.
"Red," she finally says.
"What kind of red?" I ask
"I think it's my turn."
"I'm allowed to ask follow-up questions." Another crack of thunder. Another jump. I search her face, but she doesn't look at me.
"A deep red, like the color of-"
"A rose," I finish for her.
"Yeah," she looks at me while her cheeks turn her favorite color.
"Well I guess I picked a good nickname then, didn't I Rosie?" She just plays with the hem of the pillow in her hand before speaking again.
"What's your favorite color?" she asks.
"Black."
"Of course you'd say that." She needs to stop running her hands over her lips or I'm not going to be able to stop myself from kissing her again. I know that I shouldn't have done that earlier today, but I couldn't help myself. It was probably the best fucking kiss in the whole world, so I don't regret shit, but I can't let myself go like that again.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means you want people to think your favorite color is black." There she goes touching her lips again. The small light next to me reflects off half of her face making her look even more beautiful.
"If I say my favorite color is black, my favorite color is black. How would you know any different?"
"Because you seem more like a blue." I do like blue. "A light blue. Like the color of the ocean right before it reaches the shore." I think about the last time I saw the ocean in California. It was my favorite place to be and I was always intrigued by the different shades of blue. I know exactly what shade she's talking about... No. My favorite color is black.
"It doesn't matter. We're never going to get through twenty questions if we keep analyzing each one," I change the subject. I'm done talking about colors. "Who's your favorite painter?"
She thinks for a while before speaking, "There's too many."
"Okay, what's your favorite type of painting?"
"Either landscape or..." I can tell she's about to list every type of painting.
"Landscape. Who's your favorite landscape painter?" Landscape is one of my favorites too, although I really like Illustration paintings.
"Tomas Sanchez," she says without hesitation.
"No fucking way. I have one of his paintings in my room." I pick up my phone and turn the flashlight on toward the sidewall. "I would say the name of it, but I can't pronounce it because it's Cuban." It's not one of my favorites, but it's definitely good enough to be displayed in my room.
"You're joking," she seems to be hypnotized by the painting. "Is that the real one?"
"Yeah, you can go touch it." This is one of the few times I'm happy to have so much money. That was one fucking overpriced picture, but the for the look on Jessi's face, I would have paid double.
"No! I'm not going to touch it. But it's beautiful. I never thought I would see it in person."
It is a beautiful painting, and the more she admires it, the more I like it. The main focus is a huge waterfall with mossy rocks and trees missing most of their leaves on either side. I originally bought it because the surroundings and angle of the picture made the waterfall look almost small at a glance. But as it's examined, you realize just how big and powerful it is. I'm basically a fucking philosopher when it comes to paintings.
"Anyway, what's your favorite food?"
It went on like this for a while, just casual questions. I already knew the answers to some of them, but I asked anyway just to hear her explain them again. Family was never mentioned, which I am glad for, but she did bring up something that I didn't really want to talk to her about.
"How many girls have you been with?" she asks shyly.
"I don't know," I answer honestly. I wouldn't be able to count if I tried. I might be able too if I was just thinking about the years I lived in North Carolina, but California is a different story.
"Who was your first kiss?" I ask her.
"Ummm..." Her eyes look everywhere in the room but at me. "It was a few years ago. Just some guy I dated for a while in high school."
Oh. Of course she's had boyfriends before. I don't know why I was hoping that I would be the first person she liked. I mean, I don't even know if she likes me, but I'm pretty sure she does. I hope she does.
I knew she had kissed people before. She's too pretty not to have. I just wanted to be the only one she cared for. How fucked up am I? I refuse to even be with her, yet I want her to want me.
"You should try and get some sleep." The thunder stopped a while ago, but I wanted to make sure before I sent her back to bed. "It's just raining now." She still seems a little hesitant, but nods and heads towards the door. "If you want to sleep on the couch, you can," I offer.
"Thank you." She smiles sweetly and lies down facing away from me. I pray that the storm doesn't come back because I can't stand to see her like that.
As soon as I'm about to fall asleep, my phone vibrates. Holy fucker. Who could possibly be texting me at six in the morning?
From Vin: *What are you doing?*
How come Vinny has to know what I'm doing before it's even light outside?
From Will: *trying to sleep*
From Vin: *...with Jessi?*
He doesn't know shit.
From Will: *No. Fuck off. I'm going back to sleep.*
From Vin: *Just watching out for you man*
I sigh reading his words. He's right. I hate to admit it, but he is. He knows what I should and shouldn't be doing better than I do. Well, at least he's better at sticking to it. I really care for Jess, and the best thing to do for her, is to leave her out of my life.
I hate this, but she'll thank me later.
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Thank you guys sooooo much for 5.5k reads and 1k votes!! That means more to me than you even know! Also, Don't Say Anything was ranked as the # 971 Romance story! I'm so happy that you guys enjoy this story because I love writing it:)
The painting by Tomas Sanchez is a real painting and I will attach a picture of it in the banner. It's one of my personal favorites. x
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