Jamie nodded slowly, but he frowned. “You haven’t mentioned Devin in a while.”
My stomach dropped. Despite Devin asking me out freshman year, Jamie had been cool that he was still part of the group I hung out with at school. He’d never been insecure or possessive that way. He didn’t have to be. I loved him, and he knew that.
So Devin and I were friends.
Good friends, as far as I was aware.
That’s why when he followed me into a bathroom at a party six weeks ago, I never saw it coming. He was wasted. He told me he loved me and that I needed to be with someone who wasn’t going to drag me down like Jamie. I told him to get out. That he didn’t know what he was talking about.
And he decided to kiss me to prove me wrong.
Cassie had talked me into taking self-defense classes just after Jamie was sentenced. Thank God she did.
At first Devin was too strong, too big at six four, and I was so busy struggling to breathe through the kiss and the panic that it took a minute for me to realize he’d shoved his hand up my skirt. Fury kicked in.
I grabbed his wrist and twisted it as hard as I could; then I disabled him with a swift kick to the nuts.
Cassie wanted to kill him, and she just might have if I hadn’t talked her out of it.
Instead, I went to the police and had Devin charged with assault.
He got a slap on the wrist since it was my word against his. He lied to the cops about it all being a big misunderstanding, but then he tried to apologize to me. There was no coming back from either that moment in the bathroom or making me out to be a liar afterward.
I’d cut him out of my life and most of our friends had done the same.
Becoming a social pariah was a kind of punishment, I guess.
What I hadn’t done was tell Jamie any of this.
Over a year ago, I made the choice to tell him about Skye’s diaries. A choice I would never have made if I’d been able to see the future.
I knew Jamie would confront Steadman, and yet, I still told him.
I was part of the reason Jamie was behind bars.
Cassie tried to rationalize with me, and of course, I knew that this was Foster Steadman’s fault, but I couldn’t let go of my guilt.
Jamie scowled. “Well? Why haven’t you mentioned Devin?” His cheeks reddened before I could reply. “Has something happened between you two? Have you fucked him?”
I blinked rapidly, and shock made the phone slip in my hand.
Had Jamie, my Jamie, really just asked me that? “Are you kidding me?” I couldn’t even raise my voice above a whisper.
A manner of insolence took over his body, reminding me so much of fifteen-year-old Jamie. He leaned forward on his elbows, his eyes dark with jealousy. “You like sex, Jane. What am I supposed to think you’re doing out there without me? Especially when you never mention Devin anymore? And I know when you’re not telling me something. You got real weird there when I said his name.”
“So, I’m screwing him?” Tears of fury brightened my eyes. “Because I like sex?”
Uncertainty flickered over his expression, and he swallowed hard. “Well?”
I glared at him in wounded indignation. “I like sex with you. There’s a difference. That you would even suggest otherwise makes me want to knee you in the gonads.”
His breathing was shallower, and he shifted in agitation. “What aren’t you telling me, then?”
But I couldn’t let it go. “Do you think I’d cheat on you?”
“Is it cheating if I’m stuck in here for five to seven?”
“Yes,” I snapped. “I am yours. You are mine. That has never changed. What the hell do you think I’m doing out there?” I gestured behind me. “My life is in limbo, Jamie. It’s not even living. It’s just wasting time until you’re out.”
His own eyes were bright, and he shook his head at me. “I’m not asking you to do that. I don’t want that. I want you out there, being happy.”
“Well, I’m not. I’m not happy.” It was the truth, whether or not he wanted to hear it.
“Skye was right.” He sank back in his chair, looking so goddamn weary. “She warned me that the way we feel about each other would fuck us up in the end.”