When Joss Met Matt Read Free Page B

kick him where it hurt. I shoved my legs into my jeans, mindless of my lack of underwear, and pulled a sweatshirt out of my closet. I held it to my chest while fury rattled through my limbs.
    â€œYou’re breaking up with me now ?” My voice rose with every word.
    â€œIt didn’t seem right over the phone.”
    â€œIt didn’t seem right ?” I repeated. “You thought it was better to come up here and—and fuck me for two days?” I shouted. He winced. “You—you asshole! ”
    In the silence that followed, I ducked into the sweatshirt and wadded up the sheet. When I saw it in my hands, I threw it at him. It dropped on the floor without impact and I growled in fury.
    â€œCalm down,” he implored.
    â€œCalm down? Fuck you!” Moving quickly, I seized the sheet and balled it up again. I wanted to hit him this time. Inside my chest my heart thrashed, sending blood so hard and fast to my body that my vision seemed to pulse with each beat. I wanted to hit him. I needed something that would hurt . My fingers wouldn’t ease from their grip on the sheet but my eyes looked for something with substance.
    â€œJoss, I’m sorry.”
    â€œHow could you?” The unbridled anger made me shake and tears breached my lids.
    â€œI didn’t mean to—for this to happen. I didn’t want to do it … over the phone.” He stood, letting his hands hang loose at his sides.
    A sob escaped my chest. It was like breaking the dam that held back the floodwaters; I wailed like a baby, humiliated and livid. I let the sheet drop and used my hands to cover my face.
    â€œJossie.” He approached and reached for me. I cracked my forearms down on his with enough force to hurt us both.
    â€œDon’t you touch me,” I snapped.
    â€œI didn’t mean …”
    A horrifying thought struck me. “Did you sleep with her?”
    He didn’t answer, but his face told me he had.
    I made a senseless noise, rubbing the heels of my hands down my body. I wanted to wipe him away, get the feel of his hands off me.
    â€œI’m sorry,” Ben said.
    â€œGet out,” I moaned. “Get out now.” He didn’t move, so I scrambled for the doorknob and threw the door wide. He still didn’t move. “Get out!” I shoved him, but he only had to take a half-step to save himself. I hated that I couldn’t hurt him.
    â€œJossie, please …”
    â€œGet away from me!”
    â€œJoss,” he said, but I looked away. He stepped into the hall and I took resounding pleasure in slamming the door in his face.
    Then I crumpled to the floor and cried.

Chapter Three
    Seven Years Earlier … First Semester Freshman Year
    It took a week of three-times-a-day showers and hysterical crying before I formulated my idiotic plan. It was this: the best way to get over my first love was clearly to have meaningless sex with someone I knew only by his first name. Brilliant, right?
    So, the following Friday, I recruited some girls from my floor and sought out info on a frat party.
    I wore my tightest jeans, a shirt that showed off my midriff, and no coat. Even at the time, I knew going coatless marked me as a freshman, but I couldn’t figure out what older students did with their coats when they went out. All I knew was that I didn’t want mine to end up stuffed in a corner getting God knows what on it. Armed with five dollars for my keg cup and a condom, I led the charge into the frat house.
    I tried out several guys before I found one who seemed drunk enough to be used and who would then forget me. Just what I wanted. His name was Jeff and he was big and not the sharpest crayon in the box. The kind of guy that gives athletic scholarships a bad reputation.
    Around one A.M. , I made several vows to be careful and sent my friends packing. Jeff took me up to his room. It wasn’t just messy, it was actually dirty. The rug was