He turned, having been venting his frustration to the window. Jessica sat perched on his bed with her legs crossed, pizza box open, and in the middle of pouring a glass of wine.
“What are you doing?” His voice escalated. Incredulity etched in the lines of his forehead above his wide eyes.
“Eating…” she mumbled through a mouthful of pizza “…I’m starving.”
“That’s a fifteen-hundred dollar bedspread. Do you know what that means?”
Jessica held up a finger as she finished chewing, a sparkle of excitement in her eyes. “Oh, yes, I know this one. It means that you’re an idiot for paying that much money for a semen towel.”
He eased toward the open bottle of wine that she’d decided to balance on the bed next to the pizza box. A bit of relief washed over his face as he grabbed it without it spilling. “Out. Right now. Take your food and go. Ellie’s waiting for me and I don’t have the time nor the patience to deal with you and your antics right now.”
“Oh God … Ellie, right. Please tell me you’re not seriously entertaining the idea of dating her.”
“That’s none of your concern.”
“Come on, Jones! You can’t be serious. She’s a total slut. Are you really going to take her to dinner with your uppity shrink buddies, half of whom she’s probably already screwed.”
“She owns a daycare … I hardly think that qualifies her as a slut.”
Jessica took another bite of her pizza and shrugged. “She likes to recruit them when they’re young.”
Luke grabbed the box, leaving Jessica on the bed with just a lone piece of pizza in her hand. “Out. Now.”
“Don’t have sex with her.”
“Once again…” he gritted his teeth “…none of your concern.”
She scooted off the bed, wincing a bit as the friction irritated the raw skin on her legs that hadn’t had a chance to form scabs yet. Luke’s face mirrored her wince.
“You should be in bed, resting.” He spoke with a softer surrender to his voice.
Jessica slipped on her sandals. “What do you think I was just doing?” She set her half-eaten piece of pizza on the box in Luke’s hands. “Wash your sheets tomorrow. I don’t want to sit on your bed after she’s been in it.” She opened the door.
“It’s just a date.” Luke sighed. “Here, don’t forget your pizza.”
Jessica frowned. “I’ve lost my appetite.”
*
Dr. Luke Jones had a remarkable ability to focus even in the midst of chaos. He could dissect a problem, analyze it, mend it, and put it back together. Then he could walk away and forget about it. This is … until Jessica Day landed in his office.
“Go away!” Jessica yelled at Luke’s incessant knocking on her door.
In spite of the agitation in her voice, he kept knocking. That night was not supposed to play out the way it did. He had a date. A sexy date. An unattached date. A willing date. He wasn’t supposed to be knocking on Jessica’s door. He was supposed to be indulging in meaningless sex.
She tore open the door with a killer’s wrath. “What?”
Luke flinched, but it wasn’t from her words. Jessica stood at the door in a sports bra and tight shorts, literal blood and sweat dripping from her body.
“What are you doing?” Luke stepped forward, struggling to hide a slip of uncharacteristic panic that tugged at his practiced and refined poker face.
“What does it look like, Einstein? I’m exercising.” She turned and grabbed a towel off the couch by the punching bag that hung from the ceiling behind it.
Luke took the towel from her and pressed it to the exposed stitches on her arm, a few that had been ripped back open, then he moved it to dab the smeared blood that ran down her legs. She hissed as he blotted her wounds. Her stomach muscles clenched. This wasn’t his fault and he knew it, but the finger of guilt still tsked at his conscience.
“You need help,” he whispered, more to himself than to her.
“Then help me,” she whispered back, confirming how far in over his head he’d become with her.
He stood and handed her the towel. “Why?”
“You said it yourself. I need help.”
“No, why did you do this to yourself?”
“I was just exercising.”
“Jessica …”
She turned and walked to the kitchen. “I had to burn off some energy and Jude’s out of town.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“I couldn’t feel it past the adrenaline.”
“There’s blood everywhere. Why did you do it?”
“I told you—”
“Tell me again. Where did you get all this energy since you left my house two hours ago?”
“Red Bull.”
“Jessica.”
She huffed. “You! Okay? You and fucking Ellie Lickey!”
“Ellie Liggett.”
“Whatever! I was pissed that you kicked me out so she could do all her slutty shit to you. Is that what you want to hear?” Jessica leaned against her kitchen counter, arms crossed over her chest, refusing to meet his eyes.