Girl Gone Viral (Modern Love #2) - Alisha Rai Page 0,40

her tongue as soon as she said the words. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.”

She swiped the back of her hand over her mouth, trying to sidestep from that intrusive question that placed Jas in the same world as sex. “This could have disappeared if he hadn’t revealed his identity. All these people will want to know who I am now, they’re already asking. He fed the beast.”

“You don’t know that.”

She didn’t hear him. “I was having a normal, innocent chat with a stranger. And he and this woman seem fine—possibly even thrilled—about this attention. And they don’t care that I feel . . .” Terrified. Violated. Exposed.

Furious.

She reached into her pocket, but the rock couldn’t cool her anger now. “It’s not fair.”

Jas came slowly to his feet and braced his hands on the back of a chair. “It’s not.”

“Aren’t you mad?”

“I am. I’m so mad for you.”

But his voice was monotone. His growl told her he was upset about this, but she wanted him to rage along with her. “I want to throw something.”

He picked up his mug, drained it, and then offered it to her.

She scowled. “I’m not breaking your mug.”

“Okay.” He shrugged. The loud crack as it smashed against the wall made her jump.

“The fuck, Jas?”

“It’s not china. Pretty sure my mom got this stuff from a thrift store. In 1998.” He offered her her empty plate. “Go on. Just one.”

She eyed the plate. Before she could overthink it, she grabbed the ceramic plate and threw it on the floor. The crash was intensely satisfying. She looked up at him. “That felt so good. It was amazing.”

“Better than two-minute sex, for sure.”

She opened her mouth and then closed it again. Holy shit. Was that a . . . was that a slightly off-color joke Jas had just told? In her presence?

She and Rhiannon had cracked way more racy jokes to each other, but Jas . . . he was so proper!

Maybe he saw Jia’s text, and this is his way of flirting with you?

No. Not a freaking chance.

She was processing for so long, she didn’t move while he went to the pantry in the corner and returned with the broom and dustpan. “Oh, let me.”

He waved her away. “Go work. Take advantage of how good you feel after some light destruction.”

“Right. I’m sure I have spreadsheets or, um, something to look over.”

“I’m sure you do.” He swept up the mug shards.

She raked her fingers through her hair, his easy pragmatism grounding her. He always grounded her.

Driven by a foreign compulsion, she covered the distance between them and wrapped her arms around Jas.

It was a second, maybe two. Their chests pressed together, and she rested her cheek over his heart. He was stock still, his arms at his sides, the broom and dustpan still in his hands.

She didn’t look at him as she released him and walked away. She’d never hugged him before, and, while new, it had felt . . . right. So right, she wanted to go back in for a second hug. Maybe a longer one.

Maybe a naked one.

Instead, she zipped her borrowed hoodie up, though it was too tight. It hugged her, too, and flattened her chest like his body had.

Whoa. Definitely don’t think about that.

Yeah, that was . . . not where her brain needed to go, not at all. What had she been thinking? She’d managed to convince herself he hadn’t seen Jia’s text, and now she’d stress over this.

She was almost out of the room when he spoke. She flinched, but his words weren’t about the hug.

“You should turn off your phone for a while. I’ll monitor Twitter.”

“I don’t know . . .”

“How about this? You only look at the tag when you’re around someone. Me, or on the phone with Jia or Rhiannon.” His tone softened when she faced him. “I don’t want you to be upset when you’re alone. I don’t think it’s healthy to watch something develop in real time like that.”

Yesterday’s all-day computer binge hadn’t been healthy. Plus, she had come here to get away from everyone. She capitulated, and if she did it a little quicker than she normally did because she wanted to get both of their minds off of that hug, that was between herself and God. “Okay. Deal.”

She’d grab her computer and get to work, as he’d suggested, running on some semblance of her schedule. Real work, not monitoring the actions of strangers on the internet.

She pressed her hands over her warm cheeks as she walked