Fall

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Fall Page 10

by Rachel Van Dyken


  Magic? Yes. The movies? No.

  “I, erm…” He rolled his eyes. “Bloody hell, I’m just going to come out and say it. I’m scared shitless.”

  “Of the rain?”

  “Yes.” He nodded. “And the movie, and the thunder.”

  “Have you always been afraid of storms?”

  “What, are you a profiler?” he snapped, an angry tone to his voice.

  “Whoa!” I held up my hands. “I was just curious — stop attacking me.”

  “Sorry,” he grumbled, bits of water rolling off his chiseled face and onto the floor.

  “You can stay here.”

  “Really?” A smile returned to his face.

  “Guest room, and I’m locking my door so don’t get any ideas.”

  “We’re friends,” he said simply. “I can control myself around friends.”

  Well, at least one of us could. I hated that his comment made me sting. Even though I was the idiot that put us in that zone in the first place, I still wanted him to want me… as ridiculous as that sounded.

  “Cool.” I pointed back to my room. “Let me know if you need anything.”

  “Alright.” He started walking in the opposite direction whispering, “Goodnight, love.”

  “Night.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Jaymeson

  I stared up at the ceiling and swore. No way did that girl see me as a man right now, especially considering I’d been too scared to go back to my own lonely house.

  The movie hadn’t freaked me out as much as the storm.

  I freaking hated storms.

  They reminded me of my childhood, of being alone while my dad was filming. They’d left me with a housekeeper, but she was so old and cranky that she offered no help whatsoever.

  I’d missed Nanna so much that night — it felt like someone had stabbed me over and over again.

  One night during a storm, a tree branch crashed into my bedroom window.

  The housekeeper didn’t even come.

  Neither did my dad. I even called him. He told me to tell the housekeeper and go back to sleep.

  But her bedroom door had been locked, so I‘d lain under my bed, with rain pouring through the window, hugging the toy truck my dad had given me when I was really little, and praying that the storm would end.

  That was the day I had realized nobody would come for me — that in the end it was me against the world and that was it. Girls always joke about wanting to be rescued, needing saving, but what about guys? What about little boys who grow up parentless? Sure I had money, but money’s a cold bitch at night when you’re scared of your own shadow.

  I hated what that money did to my parents, to their relationship. It made me sick inside whenever I thought about it. Maybe that was why I pushed people away — eventually they would leave me just like my dad did, just like my housekeeper. I mean, she was freaking paid to love me and she still didn’t care.

  I punched the pillow with my hand and grabbed my cell. Pris hadn’t messaged Jamie Hudson that night, I wondered if I should be worried. I mean, technically she was with him because I was him, but still.

  Wow, tangled web.

  Me: Hope you are having a goodnight.

  She responded right away.

  Priscilla S: Kinda freaked after watching a scary movie, but yeah, I’m good.

  Me: Please tell me that tool who took you on a date wasn’t watching the movie with you.

  Priscilla S: Um, no… not him.

  I smirked, wondering if she would ‘fess up.

  Me: So you were alone?

  Priscilla S: Not really.

  Me: ?

  Priscilla S: Jaymeson was here.

  That was it. No explanation, nothing, just Jaymeson was here. Like I didn’t freaking matter.

  Me: Jamie Jaymeson? Him? The one you refuse to discuss with me? How is the movie star?

  Priscilla S: He’s good… we had fun. Well, until the scary movie got too scary for both of us.

  Me: Why’s he in Seaside?

  Priscilla S: Vacation.

  Me: Are you okay hanging out with him? I mean, I don’t know what went down, but last time we talked about him you, seemed pretty upset…

  Priscilla S: He apologized. That’s enough for me.

  Me: Really? Seriously? He apologized and boom, he’s forgiven?

  Priscilla S: Nobody’s perfect, and I always trust the first apology, it’s the second that I’m leery of.

  Me: The second?

  Priscilla S: First apologies make sense. Someone says their sorry and they promise not to repeat the behavior. If they do the same thing over again, then I know the first apology didn’t mean anything. The second apology is worse, because it tells me that they’re really great with words, but suck at action. So yeah, I’m good with his apology as long as he keeps his promise not to screw around with me.

  Shit. I suddenly felt like I was going to have a panic attack. Because that was exactly what I was doing. I was screwing around with her. I mean, I wasn’t doing it on purpose. I was just so desperate to make sure she was okay. The lights flickered as if the man upstairs was warning me not to mess with the innocent girl. And then thunder crashed nearly sending me sailing to the floor in terror.

  Me: I think that’s a good philosophy. I’m glad you forgave him.

  Priscilla S: Well, he’s hard to stay mad at — it’s the accent.

  Me: Ahhh and the world makes sense. You’re a sucker for accents.

  Priscilla S: Maybe… J but we’re just friends.

  Me: I have an accent. I’m awesome. Can we be friends too?

  Priscilla S: LOL I thought we already were.

  Me: True, so the only logical step is to move past that…

  Priscilla S: Umm…

  Me: Stop freaking out… just know if I was there, in your house, I wouldn’t be watching a damn movie, and if I was watching a movie, it would only be because I had to take my eyes off of you so you wouldn’t freak out from my staring.

  Priscilla S: I’m rolling my eyes.

  Me: I’m dead serious.

  Priscilla S: J

  Me: Go to bed, sweetheart.

  Priscilla S: Night J

  I tucked my phone under pillow like I did every night and fell asleep with a smile on my face. I liked her.

  There I admitted it.

  Maybe not out loud, but it was there. I liked her. I wanted to spend time with her, and for once in my life, it wasn’t about sex first.

  It was about her.

  Chapter Twenty

  Priscilla

  I woke up to screaming.

  And not the type of screaming that makes you think someone fell off the bed — no, it was utter terror.

  The covers tangled around my feet as I struggled to get out of bed. I kicked at them and nearly crashed to the floor. Finally free, I ran across the room to the door.

  The screams got louder.

  Jaymeson.

  It didn’t make sense. He probably lived alone when he was in LA. Was he that freaked out by the movie?

  I stood in front his door listening to him scream, each scream got louder and louder, making my heart clench in my chest. He was having a nightmare, and I was just standing there!

  Without a second thought, I quickly opened the door and walked over to his bed.

  He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and I didn’t even want to know if he was naked under the covers. The moonlight cast a glow over his perfect body. He tossed to one side, yelled, then tossed to the other side of the bed, thrashing his body like he was trying to escape something.

  I sat on the edge and lightly tapped his shoulder. He didn’t wake up.

  Licking my lips, I tapped again.

  Nothing, but now he was moaning.

  I would probably regret my next actions. I lifted the covers and thanked God that he was wearing boxers, then crawled in, and pulled him into an embrace.

  My sister had nightmares all the time. It was the only thing I could think to d
o to get him to calm down. I had no idea why I suddenly felt the need to comfort him. But his screams ripped my heart out.

  The minute our skin touched he shuddered and then relaxed, wrapping his arms around my body and pulling me against him like I was a teddy bear. I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep to him whispering.

  “I’m so sorry, Nanna. I’m so sorry.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Jaymeson

  I hadn’t saved her.

  My Nanna, basically the only family that cared about me.

  She’d died when I was three and I hadn’t saved her. I should have known she was sad. I should have known. I tried so hard to make her happy too. I tried to tell her that I loved her, but it wasn’t enough.

  When is love ever enough?

  Her smile haunted me all night.

  I woke up to the beeping of my cell alarm — I was so exhausted I wanted to hit snooze, but I had breakfast to make.

  I rubbed my eyes and yawned, then looked around the room. Damn, I was warm.

  And then I froze.

  My eyes took in the sleeping girl next to me. Holy shit. Did I get drunk last night and have sex with her? Did I seduce her? She had all her clothes on? What the hell? I’d never slept with a girl just to sleep with her. I didn’t even know my body was capable of being in the same proximity as a hot chick without trying something.

  Pris moaned in her sleep. “Turn off your alarm… so loud.”

  Shaking, I turned off the alarm, still staring at her.

  She opened her eyes and groaned. “Stop staring at me, it’s creepy. Where’s my breakfast?”

  “Why are you here?” I asked in the calmest voice I could manage.

  “You had nightmares all night. Woke me up from my sleep. Freaked me out. And you wouldn’t wake up, so I tried to calm you down and that’s when you attached yourself to me like a leech.”

  Yeah, I definitely felt myself start to blush. “Oh.”

  “It’s fine. At least I wasn’t cold last night. It was like sleeping next to an oven.”

  “Aw, you calling me hot, love?”

  “Temperature wise,” she grumbled into the pillow. “Yes.”

  Damn, she was beautiful. Her dark hair was twisted all around her head, and splayed across the white pillow. The white against the dark brought out her natural honey highlights and the perfect creamy complexion I’d become so obsessed with.

  “Thank you,” I whispered. “For the uh… rescue.” Because that’s what she’d done.

  When I had been little and I screamed, nobody came.

  When I screamed last night — she did.

  And a few months ago at Alec and Nat’s wedding, I’d rejected her and offered to have a threesome with her and basically told her she was an inexperienced teen. Granted, I’d apologized, but with our track record I would have expected her to record my nightmares and post them on YouTube. Not come to my rescue.

  Not comfort me while I had nightmares of my Nanna’s death.

  “That’s what friends are for.” She smiled. “Now go be a friend and make me breakfast while I brush my teeth and try to forget that I woke up next to you looking like I’d just gotten run over by a semi.”

  “No.” I reached out and touched her face. “Not possible. You look more beautiful now than I’ve ever seen you.” My voice was gravelly with sleep. It was deep, my sleepy voice really hoarse, but I didn’t care.

  “Thanks.” A crimson stain rose in her high cheekbones. “But I think I’ll still take a shower.”

  I wanted to say I’d join her.

  But suddenly… cheapening what we had, even if it was friendship, didn’t seem right anymore, even if I was joking.

  “Shower.” I nodded. “And I’ll cook you the best breakfast of your life.”

  “Ooo,” she squealed. “Even better than yesterday?” She flipped onto her back and kicked her feet in excitement.

  I loved that she was excited about food.

  “Way better!” I hit my fist against the pillow “I promise.”

  “Really?” Her eyes lit up. “Because those pancakes were bomb.”

  “Who says bomb anymore?” I laughed out loud.

  “I do! I live in Oregon! Give me some credit! The cool words hit us super late…” She winked.

  I reached for her waist and pulled her up to a sitting position. She squealed again and tried to get away, but I held her firm, my hands burning into her sides.

  My face was inches away from hers.

  It would be so easy to kiss her.

  So easy to seduce her, to rip her clothes off, to show her pleasure, to show her that I was worth it — that maybe I needed more saving than she realized.

  Her smile died.

  I tucked her hair behind her ear. “You’re right, maybe a shower will do you good.”

  Her brown eyes narrowed. “I thought I was beautiful?”

  “You are…” I whispered. “…too beautiful for your own good. Now go shower so I can show off.”

  “‘Kay.” She bounced off the bed and padded out of the room, while I fell back against the pillows and told my body to calm the hell down. She wasn’t the only one needing a shower; only mine needed to be colder than ice. Maybe I should jump in the ocean — that would kill the arousal fast.

  “Hurry up, Jaymeson!” she called.

  “Hurrying!” I yelled back, grabbing my phone from under my pillow and sending a quick message to her.

  Me: Have a gorgeous day, gorgeous.

  Priscilla S.: Thanks! You too!

  ****

  “I think that’s it.” I stacked the last box and felt my chest constrict with annoyance. The last damn box and it was only eleven in the morning.

  “Wow!” Pris dusted off her hands. “We rocked this!”

  “That we did.” I smiled, my eyes lingering on her longer than necessary.

  “So.” She looked around the room. “I guess that’s it, do you know where you’re spending the rest of the week?”

  “No.” I pulled out my cell. “Peter will send me an e-mail update for my next task. I should probably go down to the Chamber and introduce myself but…”

  “I’ll go with you,” Pris offered with a shrug. “We can go down there now if you want.”

  No. I didn’t want. What I wanted was to keep her all to myself.

  “Sure. Sounds great. Want to grab lunch afterwards?”

  Her face flickered with uncertainty, so I quickly added, “You know, as friends? So I can thank you for saving me last night?”

  She blushed. “It was nothing. I was worried.”

  “Nobody worries about me,” I said without thinking.

  Her eyes drew together in concern, she opened her mouth but I laughed and changed the subject. “So, what do you say?”

  “Sure.”

  Pris gave me directions as I drove us down to the Chamber, it was only a two-minute drive — yes, Seaside really was that small.

  “Should we just go in?”

  “Yeah.” She laughed reaching for the door. “That’s what people normally do when they need to meet with other people.”

  “Ah, so you’re a smart ass today.”

  “What can I say? You’re rubbing off on me.”

  “If only,” I teased.

  “Aw, the whore’s making an appearance. I was beginning to think you were hiding him.”

  “He never hides.”

  “Right.” Her smile was soft, not teasing, but so damn pretty that I had to look away. I locked the car and offered her my arm.

  “Oh wow, and manners?” She looped her arm in mine.

  “I’m British. It’s how we do things.”

  “I like it,” she said under her breath, so quietly I almost didn’t catch it.

  I opened the door for her when we got to the large white building and waited for her to go in, placing my hand on the small of her back as I ushered her through.

  The secretary at the desk was humming some song that sounded vaguely like AD2’s new
est hit, and looked up.

  The pencil fell from her mouth.

  I smiled.

  She sneezed.

  “You have an odd effect on women,” Pris pointed out.

  “They lose all bodily control,” I joked.

  “Mr. Um…” The lady coughed. “Jaymeson is it?”

  “Hello.” I held out my hand.

  She stared at it, then finally as if realizing she was supposed to shake it, gripped it in the weakest shake known to mankind and retreated like a scared rabbit. “We weren’t expecting you… ever.”

  “I know.” I flashed her a movie-star smile. “But I figured it was best to introduce myself in person since you guys are the ones in charge of my schedule.”

  “Really?” She screeched then cleared her throat. “I mean, really, how interesting.” She held up her hand. “One moment and I’ll get the mayor.”

  “Wow, we’re in the big times now,” Pris whispered.

  I elbowed her.

  Seconds later the mayor came barreling down the hall. “Mr. Jaymeson, to what do we owe this pleasure?”

  “Oh, I just wanted to introduce myself, and say thank you for putting me to work for the next few weeks. It’s been really fun.”

  “Fun?” The mayor’s eyes narrowed. “You worked at the church packing donation boxes, son.”

  I shrugged.

  “Hmm.” He peered around me to Priscilla. “And how are you, Miss Garcia? Are you doing well? How’s your father? Terrible tragedy about the fire.”

  “Great.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Dad’s fine and fires happen.”

  “Good.” He returned his attention to me. “It seems you have the rest of the day free. But tomorrow you’ll start at the Goodwill.”

  “Right on.” Yeah, allow me to contain that excitement. I wasn’t going to be with Pris — that alone rained on my damn parade.

  “Very good.” He offered his hand again. “Thanks for stopping by. Huge fan, by the way, huge fan.”

  “Er, thanks.” I took his hand and then gave a wave to the secretary as I escorted Pris out of the building.

  “Are people always freaked out by your presence?” She asked once we reached the car.

 

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