Love Me Love Me (English)

23

Jackson

James shook his head when he realized that I was driving to his house.

"Don't take me home. Can I crash at your place?"

"James . . ."

"Come on, Jax."

"Is it because of your dad? Is he giving you shit?"

"What the fuck do I care about my dad? I don't want my brother to see me like this."

I nodded, giving in to his request.

"Did you talk to Taylor after she told you off in theater class?"

"I hope you're joking." He burst out laughing.

"No. She seemed really pissed."

"Why, because she had a reason to be?" He narrowed his blue eyes. "Are you siding with her now?"

"No, but you fucking hurt her."

I saw him grumble before putting a vape pen in his mouth.

"She did it to herself. I told her a million times that we aren't together."

"Did you tell Sammy, Becky, Poppy, Tiffany, etc.?"

He stared at me as if I'd just grown a third head. "Well?"

"Well, you say one thing but then you do another. Why do you always go back to them? They always end up hating you, James."

He put his forehead on the window, chewing on the mouthpiece of the vape pen. He always did that when he was nervous.

"June White already hates you," I added to get a reaction out of him, which came quickly.

"Why do you like her so much, Jax? I don't understand why my two best friends think so much of that pain in the ass."

"Eh, she told me to go fuck myself, and she punched you in the face. You can say what you want, but she doesn't take crap from anyone."

"You're a grade-A fucking masochist," he snapped.

"What the fuck does that have to do with—"

"Someone telling you to go fuck yourself turns you on. What the hell is that called?"

"I'm not a masochist, James. Stop it." I tensed up.

Except for when I let you stamp all over my heart. You pummel it more than you do the punching bag in your room when you're letting off steam.

"She doesn't mind her fucking business."

James's profile was a mixture of light and shadows as the street passed by. The perfect curve of his nose, the square jawline, his lips . . .

"Jax?" he called.

What were we talking about again? Oh yeah, June White.

"And does that piss you off because she's a busybody or because she'll never give it up to you?"

James chuckled coarsely. "Oh, Jackson, your grandma would give it up for me if I wanted her to."

"Hey! That's my grandma you're talking about."

He wasn't even listening to me anymore. He looked out the window and finished his thoughts. "But I definitely don't want to bang anyone who doesn't know how to go down on me."

"Wow, aren't you a modern Shakespeare." I mocked him.

Maybe he knew June wasn't interested in him, and that was why he liked her. I'd known James since we were little—I knew he wasn't a fan of easy stuff that he could get without any effort. That bored him. And all the girls who surrounded him were proof of that. He loved the chase and excitement of conquering someone or something that nobody else could.