I opened his messages, but the second one was an actual message.
Carmen: This is waiting for you when you get back tomorrow night, Jaggie. Come see me when you get home.
“Who the hell is Carmen?” I muttered to myself.
I’d never even heard Jagger mention that name in passing. But with Cannon no longer hanging out with him, and Jags not spending every free second at my house like he used to, I honestly didn’t know all that much about what was going on in his life.
I closed my eyes, telling myself not to do it, but my fingers didn’t listen. Lifting my lashes, I hoped he hadn’t changed his passcode since the last time I’d seen him use it. After the first try, I was able to unlock his screen, and I opened his texts. There was no history of texts from Carmen, so this was either the first time she’d messaged him…or he’d deleted the ones she’d sent previously. From how comfortable she was with sending him nude pictures, her arm across her bare tits and one hand covering her pussy the only things protecting her modesty, I figured it was more likely the latter.
Carmen was beautiful, with her wild, dark curls that fell over her shoulder and her caramel skin. Seriously, I’d never seen a more beautiful chick in my entire life, and I’d been around women the world had deemed the ultimate beauties. There wasn’t a single imperfection on her gorgeous body, so I could completely understand why Jagger would enjoy getting a text from her whether it was random or not. Considering her contact information was programmed into his phone, I knew that it wasn’t random, though.
From the first glance I’d taken of Carmen’s kick-ass body on full display on Jagger’s phone, my heart had taken a direct hit. I pressed my hand to the center of my chest, trying to rub away the pain, but with each passing second, it only grew more intense.
This.
This was why I’d kept my distance.
This was why I’d refused to even think about giving Jagger a chance after everything that happened after that motherfucking party.
This was why we couldn’t be anything more in the future.
Tears stung the backs of my eyes, and I angrily blinked them away, so fucking thankful I hadn’t opened my mouth before his performance and stupidly told him I wanted to give us a chance. When one tear slipped free, I scrubbed it away and tossed his phone on the table scattered with makeup.
Pissed, I picked up the tube of lipstick and left him a note on the mirror.
Carmen can’t wait for you to get home.
Tossing the ruined lipstick in the trash, I grabbed my coat and purse. Outside, I hailed a cab. But on the ride back to the hotel, I lost the battle against my tears, and they started to fall in earnest.
A few blocks from my destination, my phone started ringing. Seeing it was Jagger, I sent him straight to voice mail and then texted my mom.
Me: I’m at the hotel. Going to bed. See you in the morning.
Mom: Jagger is looking for you…
Me: Fuck Jagger.
Mom: Do you need me?
The driver pulled up in front of the hotel, and I got out on legs that trembled without bothering to send a reply. I didn’t want to run crying to my mommy, but fuck, I wanted her to hold me so damn badly right then. I didn’t tell her that, though. Instead, I went straight to my room and locked the door.
After a long, hot shower, I fell into bed dressed in a hoodie and a pair of sweats. I turned on the TV and turned the volume up then put in my earbuds and pumped up the volume on my playlist so I couldn’t hear if anyone knocked on the door.
My phone lit up with a new message, and I lifted my lashes enough to read it.
Mom: I’m here. Let me in.
Me: Is it really you, or is this Jags pretending to be you so I’ll talk to him?
Mom: Bradshaw Harper, let me the fuck in right now!
She was the only one who dared call me by my full name, so I figured it was her, but I wasn’t a hundred percent. Sighing, I pulled my earbuds out of my ears and stumbled to the door. I glanced through the peephole just to double-check and let out a relieved breath when I saw Mom standing in the hall. Pulling the door open, I