Texting Under the Influence
I Know You Want Me…One last hookup. At least that's what graphic designer Jenna Cho has in mind when she texts her toxic-in-life but amazing-in-bed ex, Jax. When her gorgeous boss Jack responds to the booty call instead, Jenna learns exactly why a girl should never hit send after one too many vodka sodas. Still, faced with Jack's sexy grin and even sexier Irish accent, Jenna thinks maybe she messaged the right man after all–especially when he admits he's been hoping she'd make the first move…
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I Know You Want Me...
One last hookup. At least thatâs what graphic designer Jenna Cho has in mind when she texts her toxic-in-life but amazing-in-bed ex, Jax. When her gorgeous boss Jack responds to the booty call instead, Jenna learns exactly why a girl should never hit send after one too many vodka sodas. Still, faced with Jackâs sexy grin and even sexier Irish accent, Jenna thinks maybe she messaged the right man after allâespecially when he admits heâs been hoping sheâd make the first move...
Dedication
For GB
Texting Under
the Influence
Cara Lockwood
Contemporary, sexy stories for sassy women
Cosmo Red-Hot Reads from Mills & Boon
Contents
âHereâs to being singleâagain.â Jenna Cho raised her vodka soda and clinked it against her best friendâs beer bottle at the Wrigleyville bar on the north side of Chicago. Despite the sparse Tuesday night scene, music still blared over the speakers, as if trying to make up for the thin crowd. The loud thump of bass made it hard to converse but that was fine by Jenna. The last thing she felt like doing was talking about how she and Jax had broken up again. That made three times. Maybe this time was the charm, but she doubted it. Jax was like crack: the more she tried to quit him, the worse the withdrawal.
âYouâre better off without that asshole,â Maddie yelled over the music, taking a big swig of her beer. Maddie hated Jax, which Jenna understood because sometimes Jenna hated him, too. Like two days ago when sheâd found him trolling for hookups on Tinder (reason for breakup number three). âI mean it. He takes you for granted. Heâs totally self-centered. Heâs toxic, J. Toxic!â
Usually, when Jenna broke up with Jax, her friendâs bitter ravings about her ex made her feel better. But tonight, Maddieâs endless bashing of Jax just made Jenna feel...depressed. She really felt her whole life was on a vicious loop that ended here every three months: Jenna complaining that Jax had slept around, again, swearing sheâd never take him back, only to do so a few weeks or months later, repeating the whole cycle again.
Two guys tumbled through the revolving door, bringing with them a blast of late-fall Chicago air. In the summer, their Wrigleyville neighborhood teemed with Cubs fans and late-night parties almost every day of the week, the home of drunken karaoke and the occasional bar fight. But the Cubs finished their season more than a month ago, and now Clark Street felt like frat row during winter break. The two guys, decent enough looking, eyed Maddie and Jenna as they slid into empty seats down the bar.
Jenna couldnât believe she looked anything other than a mess: runny eye makeup bleeding into the creases of her almond-shaped lids, her dark, nearly black hair up in a hasty ponytail. She wore the same outfit sheâd had on at work: skinny black wool leggings tucked into her brand-new kid leather stiletto boots, and her once crisp oxford, that looked wilted, carried a faint stain on the pocket from lunch. Maddie was impeccable as usual, blond hair in long, flowing layers, that somehow always made her look like she was Venus in that famous Botticelli painting, standing in a giant shell. Theyâd been friends since kindergarten, growing up in the northern âburbs together. Jenna used to be jealous of her pretty friend, but sheâd found that they hardly ever attracted the same kind of guys, and besides, Maddie was off the market.
Jenna had been, too. Until today.
Damn Jax.
Jenna knew Maddie was right about him, had been right from the start, but it didnât change the fact that Jenna couldnât quite fully understand how someone so amazingly delicious in bed was toxic everywhere else in her life.
And winter was coming. She thought of all the happy couples out there whoâd paired up, ready to hibernate on their couches all winter, to fuck their way to spring. Jax was supposed to be her hibernation buddy. Of course, he was more than that and Jenna knew it. Jax, whoâd played two years of pro football, possessed a still ridiculous CrossFit body. Adding that to the sensual intensity that he carried with him all the time made him... well, crack. He was crack. Even though heâd had no real ambition besides serving up drinks at the local bar, well, it didnât matter. He was still crack.
She thought about the barely even apologetic look on his face when she caught him setting up that Tinder meet. Donât pretend you didnât see this coming.You know me, J.
That was the worst part. She did know Jax. Better than anyone. She knew he couldnât be faithful. He said it was a manâs biological imperative to need new conquests. He didnât even bother to pretend. She used to tell herself she appreciated the honesty. That all guys felt that way, but at least Jax was honest about it. She knew he wouldnât be with just one woman, and most of the time, she could convince herself she was fine with that. That it was just light and fun, and who cared? She didnât want to marry Jax.
