Serena rolled her eyes.  “How did I know you were gonna say that,” she muttered.

“Sure, just let me get dressed,” I said, and left them to bicker while I went to find some clothes.

Something told me that this was going to be one long ass day.

Chapter 7

Madison

God, the trip to the hardware store was a torturous experience.  Serena constantly took shots at J, who in turn, argued back.  By the end of it, I was ready to stab myself in the eyes and cut my ears off; anything not to have to see or hear either of them.

I was thankful, however, that J managed to pick up all the supplies he would need to fix the mess in our laundry.  He and I argued over the bill.  In the end, he won and paid the bill.  Men!

We were now home, and J was busy being Mr. Handyman, while Serena and I were lounging in front of the television.  I had just filled her in on everything J had told me last night.

“Shit, what are you going to do?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” I sighed.

“Okay, so you want to check on Crystal.  Yes?”  Serena loved helping me solve my dramas.

I nodded.  “Yes.”

“So, you go home for a visit.  You check on your girl, you hang out with your family for a bit, you stay until they sort this Nix mess out.  Then you come back here and live happily ever after,” she smiled, happy with her own advice.

I groaned out of frustration.  “You make it sound so easy when it is as far from easy as anything could be.  This shit with Nix could take a long time.  I might kill my family if I have to stay that long.  And what am I going to do about J?”

“Yeah, biker boy poses a problem,” she mused.

“I love how, after everything I just said, all you heard was the bit about J.”

“Oh no, honey, I heard it all. But the only problem in all of that was him.”

I raised my eyebrows.  “Why?”

She smiled her wicked little smile.  “I’d say that’s pretty obvious.  You’re both still hot for each other so I am worried about where that would lead.”

I buried my face in my hands.  “Shit, I’m screwed aren’t I?” I said, and then looking up, I continued, “I don’t understand my feelings.  He broke my fucking heart and yet, here I am, wanting him all over again.  What is wrong with me?”

“You could just fuck him and get that out of your system,” she suggested.

I considered it for a moment.  She’s right.  I could totally fuck J.  It’s what I did these days anyway; fuck and run.  But would I... could I walk away, and be happy with just a bit of sex?  Fuck it, this was the new me, the stronger me.  The me who didn’t let a guy stomp on my heart anymore.  Of course, I could do it.  I smiled at Serena.  “Thanks, babe.  I might just do that.”

***

J finished up in the laundry a few hours later.  I was impressed with his work, as was Serena.  She even appeared to warm to him a little, offering him a drink when he was finished.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, when she made her offer, “And the next time you want to take your anger out on something, I’d suggest you choose a different target.”

She glared at him before stomping off to get his drink.  I rolled my eyes.  “You like pissing her off, don’t you?” I said.

He chuckled, eyes twinkling, “She’s too easy to play with, babe.”

Before we could continue this conversation, his phone rang and he went outside to take the call.  I traipsed into the kitchen in search of Serena.

“I might just throw this at him, instead of giving it to him,” she muttered.

I laughed.  “You do know he’s just playing with you, don’t you?”

“Yeah, well I don’t want to play with him.  He rubs me the wrong way,” she complained.

“Fair enough, honey.  Do you want me to take him his drink?”

“Yes!” she exclaimed, shoving it at me.

I took it from her and headed outside to find him.  He was still on his call when I got to him.  He looked up and caught my gaze.  There was no smile, but there was certainly some heat there.  I watched as his eyes moved, slowly, hungrily, over my body while he continued his conversation.  When they made their way back to mine, I was wet with desire.  My stomach had butterflies and my core was clenching.  I wanted him.  He ended his call, put his phone in his pocket, and walked to where I was.

“That mine?” he asked, nodding at the drink.

“Yes,” I breathed out, handing it to him.  I was bewildered from the way he had undressed me with his eyes, and was having trouble thinking straight.

He drank some of his drink, but kept his eyes on mine the whole time.  I didn’t know where this was heading, but I was beginning to feel completely exposed to him, like he was reading my thoughts and desires.

Needing to put some space between us, I went to leave but he reached out and grabbed my wrist.  “You feel it too, don’t you?” he said, his voice low and hoarse.

I avoided his eyes, and instead focused on my wrist that he was holding.  He let me go and put his finger under my chin, tilting my head up to look at him.  I just wanted to squeeze my eyes shut; I didn’t want to look at him, and I really didn’t want to look inside myself for the answer to his question.