"Do you want to tell me what the hell happened last weekend?"

Jenny glanced up at Jason, frowned, then went back to the stack of papers spread out on the table in front of her. A week into her new job, and she was already bringing work home. She wasn't complaining, not really—it was part of the job. She could have done the scheduling at work—except one of the sales associates hadn't bothered to show up, so Jenny had spent all day out on the floor, dealing with the handful of customers who had drifted in. She'd reset the front display table and had managed a few extra sales because of it, simply by drawing the few people who passed by into conversation.

But the day had still been slow, agonizingly so, no doubt hampered by the late-winter weather. Her feet hurt. Her back hurt. She was mentally tired in addition to being physically drained. And she was in no mood to verbally spar with her brother.

Not that Jason got the hint. He was standing over her, his hands fisted on his hips, his pale blue eyes impaling her. Watching. Waiting. Jenny took a deep breath and tossed the pencil down before turning an impatient glare on her brother.

"For the hundredth time, nothing happened last weekend. How many times do I have to tell you that? Now leave me alone. Can't you see I'm busy?"

"Don't tell me nothing happened. You saw the way Zach stormed out of there. What the hell did you say to him?"

"One: no, I didn't see anything because I wasn't looking." Which was the truth—she'd been too shocked at Tyler's abrupt disappearance to notice anything else. "And two: you already know what I told him."

"Yeah. That somebody beat the shit out of Haley. Why would you even say something like that?"

"That's not what I said. I said someone hurt her. There's a difference."

"Not really. And that doesn't explain why you said it."

"Because it's the truth!"

"You don't know that—"

"Bullshit, Jason. I saw her arm. I saw the bruises. I saw the way she was trying to hide it."

"That doesn't mean—"

"You know, I don't want to hear it. I don't care what you think. I know what I saw, okay? If you don't believe me, ask your girlfriend."

Impatience flared in the depths of Jason's eyes. He opened his mouth, snapped it shut, then looked away. "I did."

"And?"

"And, nothing. Megan said it wasn't anything to worry about. That you overreacted and made a big deal out of it."

"Wow. Really?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Just—nothing." Jenny turned back to the paperwork but her concentration was shot. No way would she be able to focus on it again, not just yet, anyway. She stared at the reports, at the empty schedule she was supposed to be filling in, tried to force herself to focus on them. She couldn't, not with the way anger pulsed through her.

Anger at Jason for questioning her. Anger at his girlfriend for telling him not to worry about it. Anger at herself for even bringing it up, for being hurt that Jason thought she was overreacting.

Her phone vibrated, skipping across the table until it bumped against her laptop. She glanced at the screen then clenched her jaw, wishing she had left it in her room. If she had, she wouldn't be tempted to pick it up and look at the text message.

But she couldn't ignore it. Maybe if she was still engrossed in paperwork, or if she was busy with something else—but she wasn't. And it didn't help that Jason was still standing next to her, watching her, thinking...well, whatever his squirrel brain was thinking.

The phone vibrated again and she reached over, hit the button on the side to silence it. Took her hand away, hesitated. No, she wouldn't answer it. She'd just ignore it, like she'd been trying to do the last few days. But it was so much easier to ignore when she was at work, when the phone was in her locker with her other things. Out of sight, out of mind. Only that didn't work now, not when it went off a third time.

"Are you going to get that or what?"

"What do you care?"

"It's annoying."

"Then ignore it."

"I can't, not when I'm standing right here."

"Then go away."

"Dammit, Jenny. Don't—"

"Fine. Whatever. I'll answer it. You can still go away." She glared at Jason then yanked the phone from the table, turning so he couldn't see it. Just as she thought: texts from Tyler. She didn't want to answer them, didn't even want to see them. Not after the way he had left last weekend.

Because he'd been jealous.

A burst of anger flashed inside her and she quickly squelched it. She was tired of being angry. Tired of explaining herself. Tired of defending herself.

Tired of idiotic men who couldn't use the brain they'd been given. Or worse, used it for all the wrong reasons.

She unlocked the screen and read the latest messages, trying to hold on to her anger even when she wanted to let it go. Anger would stop her from doing something stupid.

Like melting inside as she read the messages. No. No, no, no. She was being stupid. She couldn't afford to be stupid. She needed to back away, to put even more distance between them. Things had gotten too serious, too fast. It made no sense, none at all. This thing they had between them—it was supposed to be nothing more than a distraction. For both of them. She couldn't be serious about Tyler. She didn't want to be serious about Tyler.

Except she was, and that scared the hell out of her. Being angry was a hundred times better than being scared.

She closed her eyes, took a steadying breath, then started scanning the messages.

I'm the world's biggest ass. I'm totally owning that one hundred percent.

Yeah, he was an ass. She still couldn't believe he'd been jealous. Jealous! Of Zach! He was worse than an ass.

I'm a bigger ass than Jason...and that's saying something.

Jenny bit back a smile. No, she would not laugh at that one—even if it was true.

You should come over here and yell at me. Slug me. Make me get on my knees and beg forgiveness.

Heat zipped through her veins, a heat that had nothing to do with Tyler begging for forgiveness and everything to do with him on his knees in front of her. And damn, she really shouldn't be thinking like that, shouldn't be picturing what he could do in that position—

The phone vibrated again and another message flashed on the screen.

I miss you, Jenny. All I want is to see you and hold you and say I'm sorry.

And oh no, why did he have to say that? The last of her anger faded away, replaced by warmth—and a strong desire to be wrapped in Tyler's arms. To let him hold her, to put this past crazy week behind her—behind them—and start all over again.

She took a deep breath, her fingers hovering over the phone, ready to type out a reply. The phone vibrated in her hand, yet another message flashing across the screen.

Come over tonight. Let me fix you dinner. I want to see you before we leave. I need to hold you.

And that was it. She was done. Those last words were enough to completely push her over the edge. She fell, hard, no end in sight. She bit down on her lip, unsure how to reply. Knowing she couldn't say what she really wanted to say.

She took a deep breath and settled on one quick word: ok. That was it, nothing more. She couldn't risk saying anything more, not just yet. His response was quick, nothing more than a simple smiley emoticon. But it was enough—for now.

Jenny slid the phone into her back pocket, closed her laptop, and shoved the computer and the stack of paperwork into her backpack. Should she change? No, the jeans and sweater she had on was fine. Casual but not too casual. All she needed was her coat, scarf, and boots, and she'd be ready.

"Where are you going?"

"Out."

"Out where?"

"I'm meeting a friend for dinner."

"I don't think that's a good idea. It's snowing. And it's supposed to get worse later."

"It's just a little snow. Nothing I haven't driven in before."

"Not like this, you haven't. They're calling for it to turn to ice before it's over. It's different—"

"I'll be fine." She pushed past him, her mind running down a list of things she might need. It was a short list: herself, and her backpack. And she could probably leave the backpack at home. No, she'd take it anyway because it was better than carrying a purse and held more essentials.

Not that she'd need them.

She jammed her feet into her favorite fuzzy boots—practical, warm and stylish—then wrapped the scarf around her neck before reaching for the heavy winter coat. It was probably too heavy for the little bit of weather they were getting but it was her favorite one. Now all she needed was her keys—

"This is a bad idea, Jennifer. You shouldn't be going out."

"It's just dinner. Not a big deal."

"What about your car? I don't think—"

"My car will be fine."

"Your car shouldn't even be on the road."

She blew out a heavy sigh then faced her brother, frowning. "There's nothing wrong with my car. Maybe it's not brand new but it runs just fine."

"Nothing runs fine on ice. And it's—" He snapped his mouth shut before he could finish saying what he thought. He didn't need to, not when Jenny heard the words anyway: her car was a piece of shit. That's what he was thinking. And maybe he had a point. It wasn't new, not even close to it. But it ran, and it got her from point A to point B and back again with no problem.

And it was the only thing she could afford at the moment, which is what tipped the scales in its favor when she bought it the other day.

"Jenny, this isn't a good idea."

"I'll be fine. Call your girlfriend. She can come over and you guys can play house. Or you can talk about me and how melodramatic I am and how I overreact to everything. You can spend all night listing all my faults."

"I never said you were melodramatic."

"Fine. Then you can ask your girlfriend again about the bruises on Haley's arm and why she thinks they're nothing." She didn't bother trying to keep the anger and hurt from her voice.

"Jennifer—"

"Got to run. Don't wait up." She pulled the door closed behind her, shutting off whatever her brother had been about to say. Guilt seared her at her parting words and she almost opened the door to apologize. Jason meant well, she knew that. She didn't need to be so hard on him.

Jenny hesitated, her hand on the knob. Then she shook her head and stepped away from the door, her steps quick and sure as she hurried down the stairs and outside. She'd apologize later, after he had a chance to think about what she'd said. After he had a chance to realize that she'd been right to bring up her concerns about Haley.

And maybe he'd even ask Megan why her and her friend were trying to hide the truth.

Maybe. Then again, maybe not. But she didn't want to worry about it now, not when she had this chance to sneak a few quiet hours with Tyler.

And a chance to discover if what she was feeling was real...or not.