Britt rounded the side of the house , the sounds of Latin music growing more faint with every step. She felt a little guilty leaving so early. They had just broken out the s’mores—her favorite. Still, she did work early the next morning, and had unpacking left to do. Surely Angela understood.
Nobody else knew that part of the reason she was so anxious to leave was because of—
“Britt!”
Her stride faltered. Her shoulders fell. Turning slowly, she saw Jase stalking across the lawn. “Heey. I was just heading out.”
“Yuh, I know. Ange and the others told me. Why didn’t you?”
A slight shrug was all she could muster. Jase had started to exhaust her. “You were on the phone.”
With an indignant bark of laughter, his fists went onto his hips. “Something tells me that was strategic on your part.”
Because everything is about you? She withheld the comment, thinking better of it. “I’m not mad at you, Jase.”
“Really? Because you’ve been pretty short with me all night. Are you in a mood?”
“No!” Her stance became as defensive as his. “You always think I’m in a “mood” and I’m not.”
“Ok.” He lets out a breath, pinches the bridge of his nose. “I just feel like something has changed between us.”
For days. And weeks. Probably months, if she would admit it to herself, Britt had been keeping her feelings for Jase tamped down. Every little zing she felt when his arm brushed hers when they were playing cards with the group. Each time her pulse jumped when his eyes met hers across a room and they shared a half-smile, knowing exactly what the other was thinking. She told herself they meant nothing. Had started to believe that; almost. And here he was, when she was just starting to get over him, asking what had changed? As if he didn’t know? It was too much.
“Yes, Jason.” She threw her hands up carelessly, “Yes. You’re right. Things are different. Things are different because after all of the games we’ve played with one another, we kissed. And not just once…a lot of times. You instigated that. And then you played the ‘oh, I hope you didn’t take that more seriously than me’ card. As if I’m some pansy piece of crap who has never done anything spontan—”
Startled, and thrown off balance by Jase pulling her flush against him, Britt’s hands fisted in his shirt. Jase’s anger was apparent by the roughness of his kiss. He pulled back just as quickly as he’d grabbed her, “Is that what you wanted? Are you happy now?”
For the first time, looking into his eyes, Britt hated Jase. Sure she’d joked about it before—she’d even tried to make it be true. But now she knew it never had been; because now it was. She did the only thing that felt right at that moment.
She slapped him.
And before he turned his eyes back on her, she walked to her car and drove away.
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