Say it with me now . . . compartmentalization

JENNIE

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I set out for a run first thing the next morning. The island isn't very big, and there are treadmills of course, but if I know Lisa she'll be hitting the gym and by her side is one place I don't wish to be this early in the morning. It's bad enough I have to share a plane with the girl later. Try as I might, I couldn't book an earlier flight because there is only one sea plane leaving the island today. No doubt June will be returning home with Lisa, and the two can sit side by side and laugh about what an idiot I am, how easy I was to fool, or how I was just plain easy.

No, Jennie. You will not think of her. You will not remember how it felt to be cradled in her arms, or how she did that thing you like with her mouth, or ... no.

My run hasn't really gone according to plan. I've been stopped no less than four times by wedding guests to ask if I'm okay. Even Mrs. Manoban apologized for her daughter's behavior, then she asked how I was holding up after my ex married my best friend and my rebound turned out to be just as humiliating. I'm fine. I just wish everyone would stop damn well treating me like a child. Compartmentalization. I am a pro at it, and if I had a word of the day, this would be it. I can compartmentalize anything. Ex marrying my best friend? Great, what's their wedding theme? Co-worker from hell bossing me around? Oh, I wonder if the mini bar in my bungalow stocks vodka? Thor just took her hammer and obliterated your heart into a million pieces? Great, fantastic, no problem at all. Now let's go home and watch reruns of Supernatural.

I can get over Manoban the Ass. I am running through a tropical paradise, the salt air in my face, the sand beneath my feet, and no Lisa Manoban in sight. I've already put her behind me, so when I feel someone breathing down my neck, literally behind me, I gasp and spin around with my hands slicing the air like a karate master. I make contact with a very nice, sweaty four-pack. A four-pack I want to run my hands over, all the way down to—no. Use the force you must, Jennie.

Lisa's bright blue eyes burn with amusement. "Careful, Pop Tart, you'll hurt yourself."

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you? Then you'd be able to laugh at me some more."

She reaches out and places her hand on my chest, then pushes me firmly up against the tree. I scowl at the hand, wishing I could vanquish her like the Winchesters vanquish demons.

"What the hell are you doing?" I demand. Her lips crash down on mine. Her fingers reach up and pull my ponytail free, and she slides her hands into my hair, pushing her tongue into my mouth. I don't kiss her back, but I guess that doesn't matter to Lisa. Finally, she pulls away and I shove her, hard. She stumbles. "Do not touch me."

"It wasn't a dare. I mean, that wasn't . . . the sex was at first, but it's not like I set out to hurt you."

"You know, that makes it so much worse."

"Jennie, I care about you. I know I went about it all wrong, but please, will you just let me explain?"

"I think you've said all you have to say, and I've heard more than enough."

"No, see, I don't think you have," she says, forcing me back against the tree. I glare up at her. "I was an ass to take that bet."

"No shit."

"Would you just shut up? For one damn second, please?"

"No!"

"Oh my God, you're impossible."

"Says the girl pinning me to a tree."

"Jennie, it wasn't a bet to me."

I laugh without humor. "Oh, so you just humiliated me for fun, then?"

"I didn't mean to humiliate you."

"And yet you did? God, Lisa, do you have any idea how difficult this weekend was for me? I let myself be vulnerable with you. Stupidly, I fell for it. I fell for everything, but to learn that I was a bet, or maybe even just a pity fuck so you and your bros could have a laugh? That makes it so much worse than anything Chan ever did to me."

"It wasn't a goddamn pity fuck," she roars. I blink in surprise because I've never seen her rattled like this. "I wish . . . I just wish you would shut up and let me explain, but you're too much of a ball-busting control freak to do even that. No wonder he left you. Just talking to you is fucking exhausting."

I reel back, my heart squeezing painfully at her cruel words. I slap her, hard. Her angry gaze burns down into mine, and she steps away.

I bolt.

"Jennie, I didn't mean that. Come back."

The soft sand swallows my feet as I run. My chest heaves, and tears burn my eyes and blur my vision, but I don't stop until I'm back in my bungalow.

Lisa doesn't come after me and that speaks louder than any of the bitter, twisted words that just came from her mouth.

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