Sweet Talk Ch. 04.5

As she waited for the guys to finish talking, Anna absently watched a group of kids horse around in the pool. They seemed to have formed two groups; while she observed them, one little boy, a chubby redhead, let out a hilariously sincere war yell and went on a splashing rampage that would've made Jason proud at that age.

Then again, she thought, glancing down at her newly sodden dress, Jason hadn't exactly outgrown pool-side pranks. She made a face and tugged discreetly at the neckline since the water-logged fabric wasn't exactly on the winning end of its battle with gravity. With her luck, she'd end up giving the entire room an eyeful of her less-than-bountiful cleavage.

She smirked. Nothing like wearing a tube top to get a girl depressed about her remarkably unremarkable assets.

She was about to give the dress another tug when she glanced up and saw Andreas walking toward her with a broad smile spread across his almost too-pretty face.

Oh how lovely. Here she was dripping wet, and he, like last night, looked absolutely impeccable even though he was shirtless... very, shirtless.

"I thought that was you, Anna," he said, resting his hands on the narrow waist revealed by his low-hanging swim trunks.

She blinked a few times, surprised at suddenly being so up close and personal with his bare, toasty brown chest. "Hi," she returned. "How's your night going?"

His grin widened. "Better now that I've run into you again."

Her own smile faltered a bit. Was he hitting on her? Even last night, she hadn't been sure. She lowered her eyes for a moment, trying to make sense of the glimmer of what looked a lot like sexual appraisal in his eyes. He was prettier than her for goodness sake. Why would he possibly be interested?

To her relief, he smoothly changed the subject. "Did you come up for an evening swim?"

She shook her head. "No, I was out on the balcony. The view's amazing. You can see most of the Sears Tower."

As she spoke, his gaze slid past her to the balcony, and his eyes narrowed. "Is that Jason and Sam out there?" he asked before bringing his cool gray eyes back to hers. "Don't tell me they left you all alone."

That comment made her want to laugh. What was she, a six-year-old? "Uh, not really. I got cold and came inside. They'll probably be back in soon."

"Still," he returned, stepping so close to her that she caught the scent of chlorine and cologne that rose from his skin. "As an Italian man, I know better than to leave a woman on her own. Especially," he added, his eyes scanning her from head to toe, "when she's wearing such a charming little ensemble."

His attention shifted downward, toward her dress and an amused smile played at the corner of his mouth. "It's probably not polite to ask a lady why she's dripping wet, but I have to admit, I'm curious."

As if she needed a reminder of her appearance, Anna followed his gaze and only then realized how clingy the wet cotton had become. Not to mention semi-transparent. Well, wasn't that just freaking perfect? She probably looked like an entrant in a wet t-shirt contest.

"I sort of fell in the pool," she muttered, willing herself not to blush.

"Oh, so this dripping wet thing isn't a new fashion trend that I haven't heard about?"

She made a face and plucked at the wet fabric hugging her waist. "If it is a fashion, it's nothing new. We've been doing the rained-on look in Seattle for years."

He let out a bark of laughter. "Beauty and a sense of humor? My God, you're too good to be true." His laughing gaze came to rest on the general area of her breasts as he murmured, "I'd love to see more of you."

Shock jolted through her. "Excuse me?" she choked out. She must have heard him wrong.

He raised a hand apologetically. "My mistake, cara." The charismatic grin that spread across his face made her wonder if every adult male in the culinary industry had been gifted with perfect teeth. "What I meant to say," he continued, "is that I'd love to continue our conversation. Downstairs, perhaps? Over wine?"

And here it was. One more uncomfortable moment to add to her growing tally in Chicago. She ran her tongue over her teeth, trying to think of something to say.

Was there some kind of etiquette for turning down overly charming, shirtless Italian men? Especially when your best friend seemed to hate said Italian man?

The best she came up with was, "I, um...that's probably not a very good idea."

An awkward silence fell as Andreas studied her. Finally, he gave a slow, knowing nod. "Let me guess. Jason told you to stay away from me."

Her brow knit. "No, actually he didn't. Why would he?" She knew Jason didn't like the guy, but telling her to keep away from him? That seemed a little extreme, even for Jay.

Surprise showed on Andreas's face. "So, you haven't heard all about Rachel, I take it?"

"Rachel?" A tiny voice whispered that she definitely shouldn't be asking some guy who Jason clearly disliked about their past, but curiosity had gotten the better of her.

"I can't believe you haven't heard any of this," Andreas said with a small, sarcastic laugh. "Then again, I guess Jason always was a bit of a sore loser."

Anna was disgusted with herself for prying, but she couldn't stop herself. "A sore loser, how?"

Something hard and cold glinted in Andreas's eyes and Anna found herself regretting this whole conversation.

Andreas, though, seemed more than willing to fill her in. "It all comes back to a woman," he said. "One who chose me, over him. All through school, Jason was used to people kissing his ass." He gave a careless shrug. "But Rachel didn't fall under his spell like everyone else and he's held a grudge all these years."

As Andreas's words sank in, so did a quiet, desperate denial. Jay was still hung up over this Rachel person? But that couldn't be...she'd learned the hard way that he wasn't exactly the commitment type.

"That doesn't make sense," she murmured, as if saying the words could make it true. "I've known Jason for years and I don't ... I just don't see him holding a grudge over something like that. Women are kind of a hobby for him."

She hated admitting that last part, but it was true. And yet, she loved him despite his near man-whore status. Talk about being a glutton for punishment.

"Come, cara," Andreas gently chided with a click of his tongue. "Even a man like Jason, who plays women for sport, sometimes comes across that one woman who has the power to own him."

Licking her bottom lip, she formed her words carefully. "Do you mean that Jason ... was he in—"

"In love with Rachel?" Andreas supplied, his tone breezy. "Probably ... I'm almost certain of it, in fact. It's the only real explanation for why he's held onto this childish feud for so long."

Her heart clenched painfully. Was it true? Was this really why Jason didn't like Andreas? Because of some girl? Some girl who still affected him all these years later? Some girl who'd captured his heart in a way she'd never been able to?

An empty, hollow feeling settled in the pit of her stomach.

Had he really been in love?

"Are you all right, cara?" Andreas asked, edging into her personal space.

No. She wasn't all right.

All these years, she'd been able to accept Jason's lack of interest in her, at least she'd told herself she accepted it, partly because he seemed equally uninterested in the prospect of a long-term relationship with anyone.

But now, hearing that he'd quite possibly been in love back in college ... it made her feel physically ill. Somehow, amid the haze of descending depression, she realized Andreas was waiting for her to respond.

She pasted a smile on her face. "I'm fine, but I ... I think I'm going to head back downstairs."

His mouth dipped into a little pout. "So soon?" Surprising her, he eased in even closer and stroked a finger down her upper arm. "I really was looking forward to that glass of wine."

Not in the mood to be fondled, she moved away. "It's been a long day. It was nice talking to you, but I'm—"

"Uh oh," he interrupted, nodding behind her, "here come your body guards."

Turning, she saw Jason and Sam walking toward them and apprehension immediately snaked through her. One look at Jason's face revealed his foul mood. His mouth had set into a straight, angry slash and his eyes ... well, the cold, hard glint there worried her.

She knew from first-hand experience how bad his temper could be; she shuddered, remembering the time when she was seventeen and he'd been home on break from school and ended up dragging her date out of the driver's side of his car after he'd gotten a little handsey.

One minute, she was pushing Garrett's hand out from under her skirt, the next she was screaming for her dad while trying to pry Jason's forearm off of her date's throat where he'd pinned him to the hood of the car.

That whole summer, all of the high school boys steered clear of her—the deep, purple finger-shaped bruises Jay had left on Garrett's throat had done a pretty good job of keeping her dateless until halfway through her junior year.

So now, as he ate up the distance with long, clipped strides, she chewed her bottom lip, praying that he wouldn't do anything stupid.

***

There weren't very many people that Jay could really say that he hated. He had some pent-up issues with his mom for leaving; he damn sure hated his dad after all those beatings he'd gotten growing up; and he still harbored real animosity toward a teacher he'd had back in middle school, who'd told him point-blank that he'd be in prison by the time he turned eighteen.

And, then ... then, there was Andreas.

Sam had tried to block Jason from coming back inside, but there was no way in hell he was just going to stand out there, watching Andreas hit on Anna.

As Jason approached, he locked eyes with Andreas and the tiny, mocking smile on the fucker's mouth started blood pounding at Jason's temples.

Flexing his fists, he stopped just behind Anna, easily staring Andreas down over her head.

He didn't bother with preamble. "Do you think I'm fucking around with you?" he demanded.

Anna flinched at the harsh edge to his voice, but Andreas only laughed. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Stepping forward, Jay pushed Anna to the side, toward Sam. "Don't bullshit me. I told you to stay away from Anna. Do you think I'm fucking around?" he repeated with slow precision.

Anna looked up at him, her eyes wide and nervous. "Jason ... I'm ready to go," she said. "I was just coming to find you guys."

"Yeah?" He raked an angry gaze over her, pissed off to see that the wet dress was damn near see-through and had sculpted itself like a second-skin against her breasts—the breasts that Andreas had been eyeing earlier. "And, what? You took a detour and ended up making small talk?"

That pissed her off; he saw it in the way she cocked her chin like she always did when she was mad. "What's your problem? I just ran into Andreas, and we were—"

"About to head downstairs for a glass of wine," Andreas interrupted.

Jay rounded on him. "You know what, you need to back the hell up. Right now."

Andreas's careless expression closed off. "Is that a threat?"

Jay gave a short, mirthless laugh. "What the fuck do you think?"

"You're just the same, cocky bastard you always were, aren't you?"

Jason leveled an unflinching glare on Andreas. This prick was so damn close to getting his face slammed into nearest hard surface...

Cracking his knuckles, one by one, he said, "Keep talking and I'll show you how much of a bastard I can be."

Clearly panicking, Anna stepped in between them. "Let's just go, okay?" she pleaded, laying a hand on Jason's arm. "There's no reason to make a big deal out of this."

Behind her, Andreas smirked. "She's right, Jason. You're overreacting. After all these years, I really thought you'd be better at sharing."

White-hot rage burned through Jason. "What the fuck did you just say to me?"

Obviously sensing how close he was to choking the shit out of Andreas, Sam grabbed his elbow. "Jay...come on, man," he said. "He's not worth it."

Jason shook him off. "No, wait. I wanna hear him repeat that." He leaned in toward Andreas, pronouncing his words with slow, dangerous precision. "Repeat it, asshole."

Andreas tilted his head. "You know what? I'm not going to play this game with you tonight."

"That's what I thought," Jason spat, scanning him from head to toe with open disgust.

Shoving past him, Jay grabbed Anna's upper arm and began dragging her toward the door. Damn, he wanted to slam his fist into Andreas's face, but no ... Sam was right. He wasn't worth it.

Lengthening his strides, he tightened his grip on Anna's arm, trying—and failing—to get a handle on his still-burning fury.

"Ow," she protested, "that arm's attached to me, you know?"

Shooting her an irritated glance, he only grew more angry when he caught sight of her breasts jiggling slightly as she hurried to keep up with him. Suddenly, he wanted to kick the shit out of Sam, too, for buying that dress.

"Can you pull that thing up?" he growled.

"Pull what up?"

"That goddamn dress," he ground out. "What the hell else?" Shit, so much for playing his cards close to the chest. But still, if he was practically getting an eyeful of her breasts, so was every other person in the room.

"Maybe I could if you'd you let go of my arm," she hissed.

He ignored her, hell bent on putting as much distance between them and Andreas as possible. He felt her go rigid in his grasp, but he still didn't let go. As they neared the elevator, she finally planted her feet.

"You're giving me a bruise," she muttered, tugging at her arm.

He swore under his breath. Without bothering to apologize, he released her and jabbed at the elevator button. Sam stopped on his left, while Anna stood stiffly on his right. He didn't need to look at her to know she was pissed at him. Right now, he didn't care.

What the hell had she been doing talking to Andreas anyway?

They all got on the elevator in silence and he shot a sideways glance at her, taking in her ramrod-straight back. Definitely pissed. Whatever. She'd get over it, but he suddenly had an overwhelming need to nip this whole thing in the bud.

Without looking at her, he muttered, "Do me a favor and stay the hell away from Andreas."

Under the circumstances, and considering his mood, he thought he'd managed to keep his tone pretty damn reasonable.

But, from Sam's quiet groan of disbelief, and the livid anger burning in Anna's eyes when glared up at him, he must not have sounded nearly as reasonable as he'd thought.

*****

Anna stared at Jason--she couldn't freaking believe him! She so wasn't in the mood for more of his Tarzan act. He'd snapped at her, made a huge scene upstairs and dragged her after him like a child, all because of his past with Andreas.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she set her chin. "Maybe I missed something, but Andreas wasn't the only one up there acting like a complete jerk."

"Well, he damn sure was the one talking too fucking much," Jason muttered.

Her mouth popped open. "Are you really blaming that—whatever that was, all on him? If I recall, you were standing there, too, practically beating your chest like some—"

Jason angrily rounded on her, his eyes glittering. "What was I supposed to do, Anna? Huh? Don't act like you didn't hear him provoking me!"

She threw her hands into the air. "Is it really that difficult to control yourself? You were up there acting like a teenager! It's called self-control, Jason."

His eyes narrowed dangerously, sending a frisson of apprehension down her spine. "I cannot stand that asshole," he growled. "So, sorry if I can't manage to make small talk every time that jerk-off crosses my path. Like you."

"Like me? What's that supposed to mean?"

He went back to staring at the elevator door, refusing to look at her. "Nothing. Forget it."

"No, really, tell me," she insisted, knowing she was pushing him, but all she could think about was that he was so upset because of some faceless girl.

Underneath her anger, that little truth was still sinking in, battering at her long-bruised heart.

She turned to fully face him. "Are you seriously mad because I was talking to some guy you don't like?" She willed him to deny it and, in doing so, deny everything Andreas had told her.

"It doesn't matter," he muttered, still not meeting her eyes.

"Then I'd really like to know what we're arguing about right now."

He finally looked at her, his face devoid of its usual boyishness. "First of all, we're not arguing. You are. Secondly," he barreled on when she would have spoken, "it doesn't matter because, from now on, I don't want you talking to Andreas again. Ever."

The way she saw it, it was a damn good thing the elevator doors opened when they did, because if they hadn't, she might have done him serious bodily harm.

As it was, Jay casually strolled out of the elevator into the hall after his little proclamation, leaving her to follow a moment later with both hands balled into white-knuckled fists.

In the hall, Sam edged next to her and leaned down as they followed Jason. "Anna, it's not personal," he whispered. "Jason and Andreas ... some heavy stuff went down back at the CIA. Jay's pissed at him, not you."

The minute Sam said the words, she knew it was all true. Sam was usually on her side when Jason decided to go through his ten-kinds-of-a-jerk routine, but now he was all but backing Jay up. And she knew it was because Andreas had been telling the truth about Jay and what's-her-face.

Rachel.

She pressed her lips together, trying to hold back the bleak self-pity that washed over her.

So, Jason had been hurt and now he was hurting her in return. Gee, she thought sarcastically, good thing she'd come to Chicago; wouldn't have wanted to miss out on this memory-making evening.

Stopping, she faced Sam. "You know what, I really don't care what did or didn't happen between him and Andreas."

Sam flicked his gaze down the hall, toward Jason, then back to her. "You don't know the whole story, though. He just needs to vent and—"

"And what?" she scoffed. "I just happen to be the lucky one he gets to vent on?"

God, she was tired of this.

Sam's blue eyes softened with empathy. "Let him cool down some. You know he doesn't mean to—"

"To what? Act like a jerk?" With her emotions so raw, her control severed. "I'm sorry, but he doesn't get to yell at me just because he got dumped!"

Sam's head snapped up, his eyes wide with shock.

Too late, she remembered that she wasn't supposed to know about Jason's mystery girl.

Worse yet, her voice, raised in anger, had carried down the hall.

And, up ahead, Jason had come to a dead halt.