Tortured Sinner by Tessa James
Claire – 21
Johnny must think I’m a freaking pathetic loser.
One minute, my lunatic ex-boyfriend is blowing up my phone, and the next I’m opening up about childhood trauma caused by my estranged mother.
I shouldn’t care what he thinks, but I do.
I do too much, actually.
And I hate it.
For each question he asked me, I had to force myself not to confess everything to him. There's this instinctual pull, this need to declare my inner thoughts and feelings, and for him to do the same. It's like we're on some private wavelength with an invisible thread that ties us together.
Or I’m losing my mind. That’s probably it. There’s possibly nothing between us, and I’m detecting something that isn’t there at all.
That would make much more sense than the alternative.
I take a drink of my cooling coffee and flip my phone over to check the time.
There are seven missed calls from Griffin, four voicemails, and twenty-two text messages.
“You sure everything is okay?” Johnny breaks through the silence. He rakes his fingers through his hair, completely distracting me from the current disaster taking over my cell.
“Yeah.” I swallow and have to look away.
Even with the healing cuts and bruises on his face, he’s still incredibly good-looking, with his long, dark lashes and piercingly green eyes. I didn’t realize such a vibrant color like that existed until he walked, or well, bumped into my life.
My cheeks flush and betray me.
“Hey.” He reaches out and touches my shoulder gently. “You don’t deserve to be treated that way.”
“How do you know what I deserve?” This comes out much harsher than I intend.
I could be a terrible person. A selfish and cruel one who kicks puppies or something. I could have been cheating on Griffin or treating him poorly. I could have been abusing or taking advantage of him.
“Claire.” Johnny tilts his head. “I’d be a fool if I didn’t recognize what kind of person you are.”
His declaration startles me. He says this but then treats me like I’m a nuisance to his life. His words and actions don’t align, and he constantly contradicts everything. One minute we can’t be friends. The next he’s bringing me coffee and rescuing me from falling on my face at the bar. It’s like he wants to be a good guy, but something stops him and turns him into the opposite.
What Bram told me at the diner suddenly floats into my head.
“That’s a cover up. There’s a lot more to him than what meets the eye.”
Which is it? Is Johnny a wolf in sheep’s clothing or a sheep in wolf’s clothing?
I think deep down I already know the answer to that question, I’m just not willing to admit it until he does.
And if he’s not going to confess, I won’t play into his game.
I turn toward my stack of stuff. “I think we’re good for the day. Why don’t you finish those chapters, and we can discuss it later?” I shove everything inside my backpack and rise from the table.
“Um, yeah, sure.” He shuffles to his feet. “I…I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Listen.” I struggle with my train of thought. “When I said pretend to get along for the sake of our assignments, I didn’t mean you had to fake like you care. I get it. Really. We aren’t friends. That’s fine. I don’t need your pity.”
“Wait.” Johnny reaches out to stop me when I try to pass him. “That’s not what this is about, Claire. I get it, I’ve been an asshole to you, but that is not a reflection of who you are. That’s on me. I don’t want to be this way, but I have to. But don’t you dare doubt for a second that you deserve anything less than the best.”
I rip my arm away and continue around him. “That’s not for you to decide.” I rush up the stairs and shove my key into the handle, unlocking it quickly and disappearing inside.
I lean against the cold door and slide to the floor.
A light knock sounds, but I don’t respond to it.
“Claire…” He lets out a sigh. “I’m sorry.”
That's the second time he's said that tonight. The first about my mom. I was surprised when I heard it leave his mouth, because up to that point, I wasn't sure if he was capable of apologizing. Now though, the two words mean so much more than they seem, like he's trying to cover all the moments in the past couple of weeks where he's been in the wrong, including the very first when we ran into each other.
His footsteps disappear down the hallway and I’m left alone with the mystery of what he meant.
How am I going to make this arrangement work if I can’t even get through a single study session with him? I have to figure out a way to block out any and all feelings I have for him and leave things strictly platonic. Going into this evening, that was the plan, but I’m going to have to try a little harder than that if I’m going to pull off this tutoring thing and actually pass my English Lit class.
I need this and that letter of recommendation from Professor Brown on my scholarship resume if I stand any chance of actually getting it. Griffin might be a huge pain in my ass, but there’s so much more waiting on me back home. My friends, my hometown, everything I grew up around. I can’t allow it to slip out of my grasp because of some guy.
Some enigmatic and frustratingly gorgeous guy.
I climb from the floor and drag myself over to the couch, plopping myself horizontal and covering my face with my arm.
* * *
Iwake up to knocking at my door. I rub my eyes and check the time, realizing that I accidentally slept for an hour. There are more alerts from Griffin that I choose to ignore.
I peek through the blinds and spot Johnny standing there. I turn the handle and peer outside.
“Hey.” He holds out a bag in front of him.
Whatever it is reminds me that I skipped dinner.
“You must be hungry, right?”
I narrow my gaze. “I told you to stop buying me food.”
“Technically, I bought myself food. A lot of it. And I have enough to share, if you haven’t already eaten. If you have, I’ll…”
I sigh and prop the door open further. “Come in.”
A shy smile creeps across his face. “You sure?”
“Yep. Better hurry before I change my mind.”
“Were you sleeping?”
“Maybe.” I move to the kitchen and search for the plates. I still haven’t gotten used to where everything is in my mom’s house. I stand on my tiptoes to reach them.
“Here.” Johnny puts his hand on the small of my back and grabs them from the top shelf. He pauses for the briefest second to stare into my eyes before walking away. “I wasn’t sure what you liked so I got a variety.”
“I thought you said it wasn’t for me.”
“Wishful thinking.” He winks at me, a new version of him showing through that I haven’t met yet. Playful Johnny.
I don’t hate it.
Although, it makes staying mad at him quite difficult.
He unfolds the Chinese takeout box. “Um, this one’s orange chicken.”
One for one so far.
“Spicy cashew.” He sets another aside. “Beef lo mein.”
Three for three.
“Fried rice.” He takes out a small container. “I got white, too, just in case. And egg rolls.”
“You got enough food to feed a small army.” I reach for a box at random.
“Sometimes it’s nice to have choices.” He shrugs and grabs a fork.
I don’t think he’s referring to dinner, but I’m not going to pry and ruin this decent moment we’re having. Things are clearly weird between us, and if we’re able to get along, even for one meal, I’ll gladly take it.
Whatever this is, something less than friends but more than enemies, it’s worth having.
I slide an eggroll out of the plastic bag and put one on both of our plates. “You want a beer?” I go to the fridge and open it up. “Or there’s tea, and water.”
“Surprise me.” He lifts both of our mounds of food and puts them on the bar.
I grab two beers and pop the tops, placing one in front of both of our spots. I climb into the stool next to him and pick my drink up again. “Cheers.”
He grins. “What are we cheers-ing?”
“Our first meal together.” And taking a break from hating each other. I don’t say that one aloud though.
“Hopefully, not our last.” He clinks his bottle against mine.
I push away the rampant thoughts that follow with his words. It’s like every time he opens his mouth my mind runs wild with dissecting the hidden meaning behind everything he says.
“Thanks for dinner.” I take a big bite of chicken.
He leans over and nudges me with his shoulder. “Thanks for joining me.”
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was flirting with me, but I do know better, and Johnny is incapable of such things. Especially given his track record of hot and cold. I’m evidently not his type or something. Still, though, his touch rattles my core and warms my chest in a way I wasn’t expecting.
He keeps having this effect on me with pretty much everything he does.
I watch him out of the corner of my eye, taking a swig of his brew and simply existing like a normal guy his age. Only, Johnny is far from ordinary, and there is much more under the surface that has yet to be uncovered about him. He’s a mystery waiting to be unraveled.
And for some unknown reason, I hope like hell I’m the person who gets the chance to figure him out.