And latched on to the first, most hurtful thing she could think of to say. “So. Did Ms. It’s Complicated ever call you back?”
He made a low noise in his throat that said she’d hit her mark. But instead of rising to her bait this time, he took a long, slow breath. “No,” he gritted out. “Though if she had, I wouldn’t know it.”
“Oh?” Not that she cared.
“No. I… uh… broke my phone.”
He broke his phone. The guy who never stopped looking at it—not at meals and not when she passed his office and couldn’t resist peering in. Not during meetings and not at the grocery store, and—
She caught herself before she could turn her disbelieving gaze at him. “You did?”
“Yeah, that night, actually.” And did he actually sound sheepish? “I, uh, may have let my temper get the best of me after somebody pointed out some things I wasn’t really ready to hear.”
What? Wait, did he mean Jo?
“And you took me seriously?”
He was absolutely shit at hiding how that wounded him, but he shrugged. “You may have had some good points.”
“Good points that you decided to take out on your phone.”
“Couldn’t exactly take them out on the person who was actually responsible, could I?”
She didn’t know if he meant her or the girl at the other end of that silent line. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to, either. Careful not to actually press anything, she tapped her finger against the edge of the keyboard. “You going to get the thing fixed?”
“Way beyond that. Gonna have to get a new one.” At her low whistle, he fidgeted with his pen. “And yeah. Eventually. Though”—he swallowed wetly, jaw clicking—“it’s nice, in its own way. Having it gone.”
She understood that. Wow, did she ever.
Nothing like giving up on the person you were never going to get any real approval from to make you feel about a million pounds lighter.
And maybe just a little bit like shit when you realized you were the only one in the relationship to notice.
She kept her gaze pointedly fixed on the data in front of her, trying to soften her tone, even with the tightness in her throat. “You still going to see her when you go to that… conference thing?”
“As far as I know. She said she would, but that was…” Before. He didn’t have to say it.
“Well, I hope…” What did she hope? That they’d work everything out and live happily ever after? Hardly.
In fact, the very thought of that bothered her more than it should have. Not just because she wanted to see what was under those running shorts of his. Because she didn’t like the idea of him settling for the rest of his life, accepting scraps when he should be getting more. From someone. She didn’t know him well, but even she could see he deserved better than that.
“I hope she doesn’t disappoint you,” she decided on. That was safe.
“Me neither. But I’d only be so surprised.”
“That sucks.”
“Big time.” He sat there without saying anything for a long moment, and she half thought he’d drop it. Let them lapse into the silence that had been working for them so far this evening. Then again, the talking thing hadn’t worked that badly, either. He shifted, picking up his pencil and tracing the binding in the margin of his notebook. “Since you bring it up, though, I was wondering.”
“Hmm?”
“Who was it?”
Something went cold in her chest. “Who was who?”
“The person. You said someone taught you that it was better to walk away than wait for them to care. Who was it?”
Oh hell. Forget cold—her ribs were suddenly made of ice, and they were squeezing in.
Because where did she start with that one? The father who wanted nothing to do with her, who just wanted his dead wife back? The boys she fucked her way through the minute she was out of his house? The professors who wouldn’t give her work when that was all she wanted?
Forget where to start. Where did she end? Where did this go except into the kind of pity party that made her want to scream?
She clenched her jaw and turned her gaze toward the big glass window looking out across the night. “Everyone,” she finally settled on. “Everyone.”
Chapter Six
It didn’t happen often, but there were some things so awesome even Jo couldn’t pretend to be unaffected by them. For just a second, she closed her eyes and let the sun soak into her skin. A good solid layer of SPF 100, and she was still probably going to burn, and she didn’t care.
She looked up again at the trees surrounding her. Palm trees. Huge and graceful, with broad leaves the size of her whole torso. Everything was so fucking green, but it wasn’t even just that. It was the bright red flowers and the golden petals and the shapes of plants that were like nothing she’d ever seen before.
She could die tomorrow, and at least she’d be able to say she saw a real, live, honest-to-God rain forest. She was here, standing in the middle of it, looking out over a pool of water so clear she could see down to the rocks ten feet beneath its surface.
And she was tethered to a bunch of children.
Another squeal rang out from the pool behind her, and she gritted her teeth. It wasn’t fair. All she wanted was to keep going, keep wandering through this place that made the breath in her lungs feel like it wasn’t enough. But no.
Dr. Galloway’s warnings rang out in her mind for the thousandth time.
Stick together. No wandering off on your own. Anyone who doesn’t check in won’t be invited on any future outings.
So here she was. The rest of the group had all stripped down to the bathing suits they’d worn under their clothes to dip under the little waterfall that ran through the rocks. Slipping beneath the surface and popping back up, and laughing, and…
And Jo was standing on the outcrop. By herself.
She kicked at a bit of rock with her boot. She hadn’t brought a swimsuit. Hadn’t expected perfect, shimmering pools where the sun broke free from the canopy.
Didn’t know how to dive in anyway. Especially not with people she’d been holding herself apart from all this time.
She gave in and cast a long, lingering look at them over her shoulder. They weren’t paying her any attention—not that she’d expected them to. Jared was chasing the redheaded girl under the waterfall, and Carol was floating on her back. The others were in similar states, and Adam…
Adam was treading water, and damn. She’d thought he was a specimen before she’d seen him with his shirt off. The guy was pure muscle, built without being bulky. Defined abdominals and a dusting of hair over pecs that glistened in the sun, and he had freckles. She wanted to feel how warm that skin was. Wanted to play the most intricate game of tic-tac-toe. On his shoulders. With her tongue.
And she wanted to stop doing this. Standing here, overdressed and overheated and dying to rake her nails across his spine. Quiet and ready to scream and alone.
Fuck it. Just fuck it.
Another pool lay on the opposite side of the outcrop she was standing on. Barely out of sight. She chewed her lip as she stared. It might be breaking the spirit of the law, but not the letter. She wasn’t wandering off by her lonesome.
She simply couldn’t stand to be there anymore.
After checking nobody was looking, she ambled down the rock, carefully picking her way to where it dropped off toward the other pool. It was deserted and crystal clear and perfect, and her feet were sweltering in her boots.
Out of sight, she unlaced them one by one. Pulled off socks and the baggy weight of her shorts and her shirt and the tank underneath it. Standing barefoot in her underwear and a sports bra, she tucked her hair behind her ears. She braced herself for the shock of cold and stepped off.