They’re both laughing with each other, and it’s making my stomach hurt, but I don’t know why. I’m definitely not feeling jealous. I’m not with Jags, and I have no right to feel anything at all while watching him talk to another woman, a beautiful woman who has confidence and probably says dirty words. She’s obviously very nice, and that doesn’t help either.
A woman finally takes my call, and she’s asking me a million questions, but I don’t hear any of them. While Greta is fake punching Jags in the chest, I force myself to turn around and focus on the conversation and questions being shot out at me. I try to answer everything, but I don’t even know how many miles are on my car or what year I bought it. My mind doesn’t want to keep up right now.
“They’re sending a tow over right now,” Jags says, walking in through the front door. I hold my finger up, telling him to wait a minute as the insurance agent is explaining the very confusing process to me.
“What’s the address here?” I ask Jags.
By the look on his face, he doesn’t know. He runs toward the back of the room and reaches over the counter to an envelope and reads off a long address.
I give the agent the address, and she tells me an adjustor will meet me down here tomorrow. Great. No answers and no car for who knows how long.
Once I hang up the phone, Jags makes his way over to me and places his hands on my shoulders, giving me the same smile he was just giving Greta. I shrug out of his grip, suddenly feeling uncomfortable with this situation—one I’m not sure I understand fully.
“What are we doing?” I ask him.
He shoves his hands into his back pockets as a line of smugness pulls across his lips. “Well, I just saved your butt and then you wanted to kiss your Prince Charming afterward if I’m not mistaken.”
“And what are you doing with her?” I ask, sarcasm filling the depth of my words.
“Well,” he sighs. “I’m fucking her every night. I might even ask her to marry me next week. I was just sort of hoping you could be my latest fling on the side.”
I’m not amused by his joke or non-joke. I snatch my bag from the counter and walk back toward the door we originally came in from. “I’m calling a cab to take me home.”
“Home?” Jags asks, clearly enjoying this.
His question reminds me of how stuck I am right now. It’s either home to Mommy and Daddy or back to Cali and Tango’s. Why is the best option sounding like it should be to go back to my house and cross my fingers that Landon doesn’t come looking there for me? Unfortunately, from what Tango has heard, the cops let Landon go after a lot of questioning, and I wish I knew how that happened, considering Cali and I gave a statement on his actions toward me. I must not have been convincing enough. Then again, all the cops saw were two women in normal condition and a man who was beaten to a pulp by Tango and Jags, who fled the scene. How is this my life?
“That reminds me, I need to find a place to live.” I need to get a life! That should be super easy…or not.
“Well, I don’t recommend the Sawdust Motor Inn.”
The thought of staying in a motel makes my lip curl. I couldn’t, which again brings me back to my situation at hand. I have no options.
“So how about I take you to Cali and Tango’s, where I’m assuming you’ll end up staying tonight?” Jags asks.
“It’s only three. Don’t you have to stay at work?” I ask him, thinking it might be best if he stays and I go.
“Bambi…err…Greta said I could take off for the day so I could get you settled,” he says.
I want to say I’m surprised to hear that. By the looks of it, I’d think Greta would want him to stay and finish up the work day. “Oh.”
Jags reaches over and pinches at my cheek. “Are you jealous?” His lips twist into a lopsided grin as if he’s telling me he’d love to hear that I’m jealous.
“What could I be jealous about?” I retort. “I’m not yours, and you’re not mine, which means jealousy isn’t a possible factor.”
He purses his lips together in thought and scratches at the scruff of his chin. “There