Just a Crush

by Tabatha Kiss

  His body stiffens slightly and I instantly regret the question. “I’m not sure yet,” he answers.

  I turn onto my back to look at him. “Do you want to?” I ask.

  He runs a finger along my chin and pushes a strand of hair off my face. “No,” he says. “Never.”

  I bite my cheek. “Then...”

  “I didn’t mean to bother you with that, Marla.”

  “You didn’t. You seemed pretty upset about whatever happened, is all.”

  “I’m all right now.” His hand lingers above my ear. “It’s nothing to worry about, I promise.”

  I smile at the pools of warmth on my skin where he touches me. “Do you think you’ll take my advice?” I ask.

  “Drop everything and leave?” he repeats. “No. I’m not.”

  “Why not? I think you should.”

  He shakes his head once and smiles. “Not until you can come with me,” he says.

  I snort. “That’s gonna take a while.”

  “You’re worth the wait.” He leans in and brushes the tip of my nose with his. “For everything,” he adds before softly kissing my brow.

  Twenty

  Jonah

  So far so good.

  When I suggested the schedule to Marla, I’ll admit that I had my doubts as to whether or not I could go through with it.

  Now that I’ve tasted her, even in the most innocent of ways, I don’t want to stop. I want nothing more than to say to hell with everything and everyone else, throw her down on my bed, and never leave it ever again. Lock the doors. Close the blinds. Come up for air only when desperately needed.

  Obviously, that’s not a possibility right now. For her or me.

  But someday...

  Hell yeah.

  In the meantime, I’ll keep my shit together and there’s no better way to do that than by diving into our work. Thankfully, it didn’t take too long for my blood to pump away from my dick and back into my brain. I can’t look at Marla for too long, though, because it’ll just pump right on back and I’ll have to bite my lip hard to trick my brain out of it. It’s not time for that kind of thinking. We have a schedule and business does not mix with pleasure.

  I flip to the back pages of my notebook and Marla stiffens from her spot by the writing desk.

  “Okay, just...” She shifts nervously. “Remember that thing you said about the first words you put down?” she asks.

  I smile as I take a step away from her. “I do.”

  “Well, these are the first words I put down, so...” she swallows hard, “keep that in mind while you...”

  I quickly find her pages but I don’t even read her lyrics at first. My eyes stray to the four corners of each page, admiring a new part of her I hadn’t seen before. Her loopy penmanship. The distinctive way she dots her Is. She doodles a lot, too.

  “Well?” she asks, still very nervous.

  “I’m not done yet,” I say as I lean back against the windows.

  With our melody in mind, I begin to read. There’s a lot of crossed out words but it’s not too difficult to figure out what she had in mind.

  You say we’re right.

  You say one night.

  One night to prove all that we could be—

  “Well?” Marla asks again.

  I chuckle as I side-eye her. “You’re quite impatient.”

  “And you’re doing this on purpose!”

  “So what if I am?”

  She sighs as she taps her toes and gnaws on her fingernail. “Just... put me out of my misery, please.”

  “No misery needed,” I say. “It’s great.”

  “Great?”

  “Damn good.”

  “Good?” she repeats. “But you just said great.”

  “Damn good supersedes great.”

  “It does?”

  I smirk. “Yes.” I push off the window and walk over to her. “I really like where you went with it, actually. I didn’t even think to flip it like that to the other POV. That’s awesome.”

  She bites her lip, abandoning her nail. “Really?” she squeaks.

  “Really.”

  “But is it...” She pauses to think. “Like, how would you change it?”

  “I wouldn’t,” I answer truthfully.

  Her head tilts with doubt. “Come on, Jonah.”

  “I’m serious! I’m not changing a word of this, Marla. You did good.”

  “Good or damn good?”

  “Damn good.”

  “You really think so?” she asks, her voice small and eyes wide.

  I stop in front of her and smile. “I really think so.”

  Marla slowly smiles back. “Thank you.”

  I dip down to kiss her, running on pure auto-instinct, but I manage to stop myself before I get there. “Wait.” I back up, putting a few feet of distance between us. “Can’t do that.”

  She presses her lips together, hiding them from sight. “That’s right. We’re working on the song.”

  “Not each other,” I say in agreement.

  “Save it for later, Botsford.”

  I grab my guitar and take a seat at the writing desk. I prop it on my knee and get comfortable, eager to add her words to our song, as she sits down on the bed across from me.

  “Believe me,” I say as I pinch my pick, “I will.”

  Twenty-One

  Marla

  I sit Dave down in the playpen next to Sammy and let out a deep sigh. “Now, stay,” I say, pointing a finger at both of them. “Don’t move.”

  They laugh. They’re going to try and get out again and all three of us know it.

  “I mean it,” I warn. “Mom’s coming home after a ten-hour shift and I’m going out with Jonah, so... you need to chill because if I have to cancel to deal with toddler hissy fits, then I’m going to make your lives a living—”

  The front door opens and mother groans as she pushes inside.

  “—carnival,” I say to the boys instead. “With pony rides and... corn dogs.”

  Mom slams the door as she shakes her coat, dropping a small puddle of water onto the floor. “It’s raining,” she says, her bangs stuck to her face.

  I glance through the windows, taking note of the water streaming down from the roof. “I can see that.”

  “It wasn’t in the forecast this morning,” she says as she tosses her jacket onto the hook on the back of the door.

  “Welcome to Nevada,” I quip.

  Mom chuckles, barely, as she dries her hands on the apron of her uniform. She looks me up and down as she kicks off her shoes, a brief smile sticking to her face. “You look nice,” she says.

  I check my outfit. Jeans and an off-pink blouse. “Thanks,” I say.

  “Do we have plans this evening?” she asks, already knowing the answer.

  “Actually, yeah. Jonah and I are this close to finishing our song and I’d hoped that we could get it done before tomorrow because I’ve got tests to study for and papers to write and—”

  “Rockstars to dry-hump?”

  I cringe. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Hrm.”

  She picks up her shoes and carries them with her down the hall, softly chuckling to herself the entire time.

  There’s a knock on the door. I turn to check out the windows before answering it.

  Jonah stands on the porch with his hood slumped over his head to block the rain.

  “Who is it?” my mother calls from her room.

  “It’s Jonah,” I say. “Please be nice.”

  “Now why on earth would I not be nice?” she coos.

  I sigh and open the door with a smile, one infectious enough to curl Jonah’s mouth the moment he sees it. “Hey,” I greet and step to the side. “Come on in.”

  “Thank you,” he says, quickly dropping his hood as he slinks in off the porch.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask him. “I was just on my way out to the hotel.”

&nb
sp; “Practice ended early,” he says. “And since it was raining, I figured I’d just pick you up instead of making you take the bus.”

  “Oh, that’s so sweet.” I smile at my mother hovering in the doorway between here and the hallway. “Isn’t that sweet?”

  She nods with approval. “It’s not bad,” she says. “How are you, Jonah?”

  “I’m great, ma’am. How are you?”

  “I am tired and gross and very sick of people calling me ma’am all day.” She smiles. “Angie is fine.”

  Jonah laughs. “Angie it is, then. Anything I can help with? We’re in no hurry to leave.”

  “Actually, I would really appreciate it if you two could watch the boys while I get in a quick shower, if that’s not too much to ask.”

  He shrugs. “No problem. Take your time.”

  “Yeah, Mom,” I say. “Go ahead.”

  She holds her hands out in prayer and bows. “Thank you.”

  I admire Jonah as she scampers off down the hall back to her room. “Look at you,” I say. “Scoring points with Mom.”

  “Hey, you know, there are only so many ways you can come back from a lackluster first impression. Giving a single mom a chance at an undisturbed hot shower is near the top of the list.”

  I chuckle. “Well done.”

  “Fiona didn’t raise no fool, as some people say.” He grins at the boys in the playpen on the floor. “Sammy and Dave, huh?”

  “Sammy and Dave.”

  “Which is which?”

  “Red shirt Sammy. Blue shirt Dave. We had to color-code them very early on or else it would have been pure chaos.”

  Jonah takes a knee beside them and they both turn their heads up with wide eyes. “Hello,” he greets.

  “Guys, this is my friend, Jonah,” I tell them. “Say hi, Jonah.”

  They look at him and say with words overlapping, “Hiiiii, Joba.”

  Jonah laughs. “Okay, they’re cute.”

  “They have their moments.”

  “I can’t wait until my niece is this age,” he says.

  I smile as jitters wreak havoc in my stomach. “So, Jonah, about yesterday...”

  He slowly rises off his knee. “What about it?” he asks timidly.

  “Oh, nothing bad,” I say. “I had fun. Did you? Have fun.”

  “I had fun.”

  “Me, too.” I clear my throat as I lower my voice, keeping one ear open on the hallway just in case. “I was just thinking about tonight and whether we’d...” I hesitate, “have more fun.”

  He pauses, eyes partially twinkling. “How much more fun?” he asks.

  “The...” I chuckle to ease tension as he steps toward me. “I show you mine you show me yours kind of fun?”

  His brow piques. “That’s a lot of fun.”

  “It is,” I say with a nod.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I think so.”

  He briefly glances at the boys and holds out a hand between us and them. “Close your eyes, boys. I’m about to fondle your sister.”

  I laugh as he leans in and silences me with a kiss. It’s closed-mouth and chaste, downright respectful due to our setting, but I can’t ignore the heat trapped behind it.

  “I’m in for that kind of fun,” he says, his smirk digging in. “If you’ll let me choose where and when.”

  “Where and when?”

  He nods. “Uh-huh.”

  “So, not your hotel room?”

  “I have a naughty idea I think you’d like.”

  I swallow hard. “Naughty?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Illegal naughty or...?”

  He chuckles. “Misdemeanor naughty. I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”

  I squint. “Okay... What about the when part?”

  “I’ll surprise you,” he whispers.

  “So, what you’re saying is that I have to spend the rest of my day in a state of suspense because you won’t tell me when or where we’re going to hook up again?”

  “You know, I’m just making this up as I go along but yes, that right there is a perfect way to describe how I plan to torture you today.”

  “Oh.” I tremble deep inside. “Lovely.”

  He kisses me again, the same simple peck as before. “But for now, you can relax. We have adorable kids to watch and then work to do. Gotta stick to that schedule.”

  I smile so hard it hurts. “Okay. I’ll relax.”

  Relax?

  Yeah, right.

  As if I could relax after that.

  Jonah hasn’t laid a hand on me since we got to the hotel. No near-kisses. No lingering eyes on my body when he thinks I’m not looking. Nada. Nothing. It’s like a switch was thrown; one that turned him off completely yet turned me on to the boiling point.

  Though, perhaps, this was his plan all along.

  I watch him strum his guitar from the chair of the writing desk, my bottom lip pinched sharply in my mouth as he softly sings our song. Lyrics we wrote together. Words I’ve now heard hundreds of times but never fail to send shivers down my spine.

  Without thinking, I start to sing along, quietly at first until my volume matches Jonah’s. His eyes flick toward me and he smiles, not missing a single beat or note as he continues playing through our chorus.

  When the song ends, he sits still, his fingers pinched along the neck of his guitar. “You have a nice voice,” he says.

  I shake my head. “I’m off-key,” I say.

  “Nothing a few vocal lessons won’t iron out. I can ask Addison for you.”

  “No.” I laugh. “Thank you, but... no.”

  “The offer remains on the table.” He lays the guitar down on the bed beside him. “You know... I think we might be done here.”

  “You think so?” I shake with nervous excitement. “It felt done but I didn’t want to say anything...”

  “It’s done,” he says. “Or done enough for us to safely set it aside while we work on the next one.”

  I straighten up. “The next one?”

  “Yeah.” He smirks. “Did you think this was a one-time thing? Because if I had my way, I’d shrink you down to pocket-size and carry you with me everywhere.”

  I laugh as my chest flutters. “I’m in for another one.”

  “Good girl.” He stands up and stretches his arms over his head. “But not tonight. It’s getting late.”

  I glance at the clock by the bed. It’s nearly midnight. “Oh, wow. It doesn’t even feel that late...”

  “Time flies when you’re making history,” he says as he pauses over me and opens the top drawer of his desk. “Come on. I’ll drive you home.”

  I exhale in disappointment but I turn away as I stand to try and hide it. My body is still practically buzzing from his promise to figuratively strike when and where he chooses. Maybe we did let time get a bit too far out of our hands and our fun will have to wait until another night.

  “Band practice tomorrow?” I ask as I grab my jacket from the closet.

  “Yeah,” he says. He slips his beanie off and sets it down on the desk before running a hand through his curls. “All day, too. So I’ll be MIA until Tuesday.”

  “Oh,” I say.

  “Then, the gig on Tuesday. So maybe Wednesday, actually.”

  “And I have a test on Tuesday morning,” I say, quickly remembering. “I’ll be in study mode tomorrow.”

  “So, this is goodbye until Wednesday,” he says.

  I release another breath as I gaze up at him. “I guess so.”

  For the first time tonight, his eyes drift downward and he looks at my lips.

  Yes!

  Dear god, yes!

  Kiss them. Kiss them like you did last night and the night before that.

  Jonah takes a step back. “Better get you home. Class in the morning, right?”

  My shoulders sink. “Yeah,” I answer.

  He opens the door and holds it for me. I step out into the hallway and we silently make our way down the gold and blue corri
dor toward the elevators.

  Dammit.

  The doors open on the sub-level parking garage and I let Jonah lead me through the now-familiar columns toward his regular parking spot. My eyes flash on that gorgeous blue car as we walk toward it and Jonah quickens his stride to reach it first. He pops the passenger side open for me but he stops me before I can duck inside.

  He pulls a small lever on the seat and folds it forward to free the path to the backseat. “Get in,” he says.

  “You want me to sit in the back?” I ask.

  He curls a strong arm around me from behind and whispers low in my ear, “Yes.”

  Oh...

  Here? Now?

  I turn my head, glancing around the garage. There’s no one around but that could easily change at any moment. “Won’t we get caught?” I ask him.

  “That’s part of the fun, isn’t it?” He flattens his hand on my belly and I shudder. “Get in.”

  Twenty-Two

  Marla

  I obey.

  I don’t see why not.

  I inch toward the car and Jonah’s arm falls from my waist but his hand stays steady between my shoulder blades, almost as if he’s afraid I’ll run away.

  I lower down into the car and slide across the seat to the left side. Jonah follows me in, carefully closing and locking the door as soon as he pulls his foot in.

  I look through the windows, taking solace in how heavily-tinted they are. Good. At least no one can passively glance inside unless they got real close but even then there wouldn’t be much to see, right?

  “Marla.”

  I turn toward Jonah and he gives me another one of those brilliant, reassuring smiles. I can call this off if I wanted to. I can tell him I’m uncomfortable and that I’d rather he just take me home. We’ll see each other again on Wednesday after we’d had time to think and we’ll talk about this a little more before we do something drastic.

  Fuck that.

  I lean in and kiss him on the lips. His hands are on me immediately, quickly pushing my jacket down my shoulders and arms. I let it fall to the floor and then I do the same to him, stripping his hoodie down his toned arms and it disappears, too.