Free Jahleel by S. Ann Cole Page B

realize who I was? “You’re saying I’m fake?”
    He took a sip of his drink, and replied without looking at me, “Now? Yeah.” Tilting his head to the side, he angled it to look at me without turning his body, seemingly annoyed and a little ticked. “This,” he motioned a hand to indicate my provocative pose, “is being done to prove a point.”
    Turning back to me fully now, he took a step forward and leaned into me. “I do a lot of things, Saskia, but playing games is not one of them.” Jerking his head to the left, he said quietly, “Maybe that’s where you really want to be?”
    I looked to my left where he indicated, and my breath hitched audibly. It was this feeling—this breath-stealing, mind-numbing, tongue-tied feeling that I always got whenever I saw him that made it damn well impossible for me to get over him.
    I couldn’t.
    I just couldn’t.
    At a mere glimpse of him, my heartbeat sped off on a wild race beneath my rib cage. This was fucking ridiculous!
    Why? Why? Why did I crave him this much?
    Casual in faded jeans, Timberlands, and a red T-shirt with a black skull face on the front, he was sitting on an ottoman across from Ferbie, engaged in deep conversation, hand movements and all. The strangest sight. Who the hell held deep conversations with Ferbie ?
    When he set his drink down on the table between them and proceeded to move his wrist in some weird circular movement that Ferbie mimicked, I deduced they were talking about dancing.
    “I’m not sure why you’d think tha—” I turned my head back around to see that Chad had vanished. Like smoke.
    Jesus, I suck.
    Amanda was by my side at the bar in the next minute. “So?”
    “He’s just as much of a wanker as JK,” I groused bitterly.
    “What did he say?”
    “That I’m fake.”
    Bursting into laughter, Amanda shook her head. “Christ, Kia, you suck. Big time. How’d you manage to piss off a guy who’s so obviously into you, in less than five minutes?”
    “I barely got a sentence out!” I complained, wanting to laugh at the absurdity of it. “That man’s got bloody issues.”
    Amanda laughed again and knocked her knuckles on the bar to get the bartender’s attention. “Two shots of Coffee Patrón, please.”
    “Make that a double for me,” I added, and the bartender nodded.
    Arching a brow, my best friend inquired, “What’s up with you tonight?”
    “JK,” I grimaced, I inclined my head to the left. “I’m going over to talk to him. Maybe facing him with friendly expectations will help me get over him.”
    “So, you weren’t over him before, then?” Amanda teased as the bartender placed the shots down for us.
    I knocked back the first shot without a wince. “Just shut the hell up.” Down went the second one before I slid off the stool and said, “Wish me luck with this one.”
    I wove through the throngs of people, forcing a smile each time someone stopped me with some kind of gibberish. This made the short journey from the bar to Jahleel a ten minute trip.
    Jahleel and Ferbie maintained their deep discussion as I approached, until Ferbie looked up and saw me. “Aye, Ma. You ready already?”
    Jahleel glanced up, and down my body his eyes roved. Then…there it was, the look he had when I walked into his studio the other day. That lustful look: where he sank his teeth down on his full, desirable lower lip and blatantly stared. But just as soon as it appeared, it left as he slapped on a polite smile.
    Gah! That wasn’t the smile I wanted! I wanted the sexy, crooked smile he flashes at the women he sets his sights on.
    “No, no,” I waved my hand, “I just came over to say ‘hi’ to your new mate.”
    “Ah,” Ferbie stood up. “I’ve got to use the loo. I’ll leave you two at it, yeah?”
    As Ferbie vacated, I took his seat.
    Tossing my clutch on the table, I leaned forward toward the ottoman with my legs apart, elbows resting on my thighs.
    Jahleel reached forward for his drink and brought up it to