My Casey

by Sam Crescent

  The instant she made a sound, he turned and smiled.

  “You slept in?”

  “No. I didn’t sleep in. Mom wanted to know everything, and well, I didn’t run away from the hundred and one questions.” She shrugged. “Here I am.”

  “I got your desk all set up. When you didn’t arrive, I wasn’t sure if you took my offer seriously.”

  “I did take your offer seriously. I was just a little nervous, I guess.” She followed him into the office, and sure enough there was one pristine desk waiting for her. It looked like it hadn’t been used by anyone, and seeing it, she felt touched he’d done this. “You didn’t have a spare desk, did you? You went out and bought this?”

  “I got it from my place. I like to make things in my spare time, and this beauty hasn’t been purchased by anyone. You could just say thank you, and we can leave it at that.”

  “Okay, thank you,” she said.

  He took the bag from her. “It’s not much. You’ve got coffee in the corner. I’ll go out and get us lunch.”

  “My mom packed me something.” She had also been told about being a vegetarian, so she had cucumber sandwiches for lunch.

  Her mother said she was going to have to look up the new diet, and Casey hadn’t been in the mood to argue.

  It wasn’t that big of a deal, and yet people kept on making it like it was. It wasn’t.

  “What are you doing today?” she asked.

  “Nope. I’m not going to be answering any of your questions. You, missy, will set your laptop up, sit down, and start writing, or doing a plan, or whatever it is you have to do.”

  “I could help you,” she said.

  “Why are you so afraid to start writing?” he asked.

  “I’m not afraid.”

  “You’re not avoiding?”

  “I’m not avoiding.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know, okay? I don’t understand it myself.” She shrugged. “I will get started.”

  She opened up her bag and pulled out her laptop, setting it up ready. She’d even brought the power cord in case she ran out of batteries.

  She could do this.

  One day at a time.

  Or at this rate, one hour at a time.

  It wasn’t a problem.

  This was easy.

  Easy-peasy.

  She liked peas.

  Get a grip, Casey.

  “I’ll leave you to it.” He left the office, and she watched him go.

  Sitting at her desk, she stretched out her fingers, giving them a little click and stretch. This was easy.

  Really easy.

  So all she had to do was think of a story, and it would come.

  She began to feel sick.

  It wasn’t that easy.

  She pulled out a notebook, a pristine one she hadn’t touched or written in yet. She’d bought it especially for coming back home. No words, no ideas, nothing.

  It was fine though.

  One day at a time.

  No, one hour at a time.

  With a pen in hand, she held it poised over the page.

  Nothing.

  This was crazy. Growing up, she could just look out of the window and a story would come to her. Even when she arrived at the city with her dreams all there to be chased, she’d spent hours people-watching, seeing the world go by, and she’d written out outlines, characters, details. Everything she could think of, and now, she had nothing. Not even a tiny speck of anything.

  “Okay, let’s do this,” she said.

  Pen to the page.

  She waited.

  Nothing.

  Staring out of the office window, she caught sight of Rusty. Daniel.

  He was a nice guy.

  She’d loved the way he held her last night. It had been so magical, sweet, charming. She had adored every single second of it.

  He was a good guy.

  She watched as he stepped away from the car and stared at it. He had some tool in his hand, which she couldn’t make out. Perspiration dotted his brow, and he ran a hand over his face as he contemplated what to do next.

  She didn’t write anything, just watched him as he moved around the car, and touched some of the odd damages. It wasn’t lost on her that he still wasn’t working on her car, but she didn’t mind. The more time he took, meant the more time she could come around here and watch him. The walk this morning wasn’t so bad either.

  He hadn’t really kissed her last night. It had been a chaste peck on the lips.

  Why hadn’t he kissed her?

  Didn’t she look like she wanted a kiss and not just some chaste peck?

  She’d wanted a whole lot more, and yes, even that thought was a little scary. She never kissed a guy on the first date. Sure, she had a peck on the cheek, but that wasn’t a full-blown kiss. It was a peck. Nothing too serious. Was he playing with her? Did he want her to do the chasing?

  Never in all of her life had she chased after a guy.

  Rusty wasn’t just any guy though; he was the guy.

  Was he the guy?

  She’d been back in town for, like, two minutes, and she was already thinking of guys, and other things.

  “Focus, just write.” She pulled her gaze away and went back to the notebook in front of her.

  She could do this.

  Story one.

  She wrote it down as the heading of the page.

  The lined, blank page.

  The notebook wasn’t designed for this. It was designed for a real writer. She had sat and read so many different stories during her time in editing. She’d read so much that reading had lost its love.

  She’d also seen the way some of her colleagues had criticized stories, tearing them apart as if they meant nothing. During high school, she had written a bunch of short stories, and they had all come from the heart. They had all meant a great deal to her for so many different reasons.

  Now though, she was starting to wonder if she should just quit.

  What if someone tore her heart out with hating it?

  Hating and loving were all part of the job.

  “You okay?” Rusty asked, coming to the door.

  Casey didn’t even realize she had tears in her eyes. “No, I’m not okay.” she sniffled. “I’m really not okay.” Putting the pen down, she noticed her hands were shaking.

  In the next second, he was there. His arms wrapped around her, and she held onto him, not wanting to let him go.

  “I’ve got you.”

  “I don’t think I can do this,” she said.

  “Do what?”

  “This. What am I, crazy? There’s no way I can do this. I’m so stupid to think I can even give this a chance.” She put a hand to her chest, and she felt herself starting to panic.

  “Hey, hey, it’s fine. Come on. You’re fine. There is nothing for you to worry about.” He ran his fingers down her back, tracing over her spine.

  She really liked his touch.

  “No, it’s not fine. There is nothing fine about this. I feel like I’m having a panic attack.”

  He cupped her face and forced her to look at him. “What are you so afraid of?”

  “Nothing.” The lie fell easily off her lips.

  “You’re lying to me, and you don’t need to lie to me, baby. Just look at me, talk to me. Tell me what is going on.”

  “I don’t know. I feel like I’m a total failure. I can’t seem to shake this feeling that I’m wasting my time.”

  “Then stop trying to write to impress others. Don’t write for anyone else but yourself.”

  “What?”

  “Each story is different, right? Don’t try to be the next big thing. When was the last time you wrote something for you?”

  “High school.”

  “Then maybe what you need to do is start remembering who you are and what it is you like. Everything else will fall into place.”

  ****

  Rusty didn’t kiss her last night.

  He sho
uld have kissed her.

  There was an opportunity missed, and the moment he watched her go indoors, he’d known he’d made a mistake.

  Nothing he could do about it.

  He’d fucked up, no one else.

  Now, he was going to have to pay the price.

  Glancing into his office, he saw she was still staring at the blank notebook.

  “Hey, you,” Buster said, coming back into his garage.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “I bought you a burger.” Buster shoved a wrapped, brown package at his chest. “Is it true about her being all vegetarian?”

  “Yes, and don’t say anything and don’t even go in there to distract her.”

  “Why?”

  “She’s writing.”

  Buster glanced through the window. “Dude, she’s staring at a blank notebook. Last time I checked, that shit ain’t writing.”

  “Shut up. She’s trying, okay? You try and write something.”

  “Why the fuck would I want to do that? I’m awesome either way.” Buster winked. “Besides, the ladies wouldn’t be able to handle the kind of shit I’d have to say.”

  “Oh, please, you think you could write romance?” Rusty asked.

  “Hell, no, I’d be about the sex. You know that. Cold, hard fucking. It would turn everyone on. Believe me, there wouldn’t be much in the way of work getting done because of all the horniness.”

  “Yeah, I do doubt that.”

  “Doubt all you want, it’s not going to change anything,” Buster said. “How did the date go? From the lack of writing, I’d say uninspiring.”

  Rusty glared at him. “You weren’t there.”

  “No one said anything about a kiss.”

  “You mean people are talking about us already?”

  “Duh, yeah, why not? Of course people are going to talk. Get a grip, Rusty. This is Casey Jones, and for a long time, you’ve been one of the eligible bachelors.”

  “I work for my dad.”

  “You’re still hot stuff. You know that.”

  “It scares me some of the stuff that comes out of your mouth.”

  “It’s all in here. I tell you. The woman who finally lands me will be on cloud nine.”

  “More like cloud hell. You’ll never settle for anyone less than yourself.”

  Buster was known for being incredibly selfish person. He was always looking for a party or an excuse to party, rarely taking any responsibility himself.

  His father used to get angry with him for hanging out with Buster, but he never showed any signs of his friend’s bad ways rubbing off on him. For all of his selfishness, Buster was a good friend, or at least tried to be.

  Sometimes, his heart was in the right place.

  Sometimes.

  “Kiss her. Take her out. Show her a bit of adventure. Don’t be the good guy here, Rusty. You think she’d settle for a good guy? She’s a city girl.”

  “That doesn’t mean anything.”

  “I bet she has been surrounded by good guys. Suit-wearing men, and you’re not a suit guy.”

  “I don’t like where this is going.”

  “Look, I’m your best friend. I know you’ve had a thing for this girl for as long as I can remember, but you were too much of a pussy to do anything about it. Now you can do something about it. A lot of somethings, if you catch my drift. Inspiration comes from anywhere, and being the writer that she is—is she romance?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Buster smirked. “I think you and I both know what kind of inspiration you could find out she needs.” His friend slapped him on the back. “As much as I’d love to stay and chat, I’ve got to go. Think about what I’ve said.”

  Rusty watched his friend leave and wanted nothing more than to throttle him. This wasn’t what he wanted to do today.

  Looking into his office, he wondered what she would want from him.

  Wiping his hands on the cloth, he grabbed his burger and walked into her room.

  “Hey,” he said. “How are you getting on?”

  “Terrible. At least I know I can write ‘story idea,’ so that’s a plus. Ugh, I hate this.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” He sat down at his desk. “Am I good to eat lunch in here?”

  “Of course. I won’t stop you.”

  He nodded and took a bite out of his sandwich. She sat back, dropping the pen onto the desk and grabbing her own lunch.

  “Did your parents find out about the whole vegetarian thing?”

  “Yeah, they did, which is fine. I got cucumber sandwiches and a promise from my mom that she will see what I eat.” She giggled. “You know it’s not some crazed thing.”

  “I know. I totally looked it up online.”

  “Stop it. It’s not a big deal.”

  “I don’t know, it feels like it. So, erm, what kind of stuff were you hoping to write about?” he asked.

  Buster’s question now had him curious.

  “It’s stupid.”

  “It’s not stupid if it’s what you want to do.”

  “Okay, well, don’t laugh, but I wanted to write romance.”

  “Romance?”

  “Yes. Romance is, like, the most amazing thing in the world. I know there’s crime and thrillers, and horror; I’ve got nothing against them at all. Me, I just love romance. I think there’s something magical in a story when two people find each other, or reconnect, you know.”

  “I don’t read a whole lot.”

  “What kind of stuff do you read?”

  “I tend to go for cars, sports, that kind of thing.”

  She smiled. “I can imagine.”

  He finished off his food. “Why don’t you list all the things you love about romance? What you want to see in a book? Draw all of your elements together until you have one nice, neat package?”

  “You think?”

  “I know you can do it.”

  “You’re right. Yes, You’re totally right. I will do it.” She got to her feet. “You’re a genius,” she said.

  “I’m just doing my job,” he said. He walked to the door and stopped. Turning back to face her, he stepped toward her desk.

  “What is it?”

  “There’s one thing I wanted to do last night, and I didn’t get to do it.” He took her hand, lifting her to her feet.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s nothing bad, I promise.” He cupped her cheek. His heart was racing. This had never happened to him before. He never got nervous about a kiss, but this wasn’t just any woman. This was Casey Jones.

  The girl he’d been pining for all of his life and pretending for the most part that her leaving didn’t matter.

  Only, it mattered.

  She was back in town, and he’d already been on a date with her, and he messed it up at the end by not kissing her. He wanted to kiss her.

  Tilting her head back, he stared into her eyes and then just went for it. Slamming his lips down on hers, he finally took the kiss he’d been wanting to do for years but had never gotten around to it. His own fears had been keeping his need for her at bay, but no more.

  Trailing his tongue across the seam of her lips, he heard her moan, followed by a gasp, and it was such a beautiful sound to him.

  Sliding his tongue into her mouth, he deepened the kiss, and she whimpered his name. Her hands went to his shoulders, holding onto him as pressed her against the desk.

  Caressing down her back, going to her thigh, he lifted it up over his hip, wanting to get as close to her as possible.

  Someone cleared his throat, interrupting the moment.

  Pulling away from her, he looked toward the door, and sure enough, Lionel, the town’s baker, was there.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything, but you did say to stop by and pick up my car,” he said.

  “Yes, yes, I did.” He let go of Casey slowly. Her cheeks were bright red. “I’ve got to deal with this.”

  “Go ahead,” she said.

  “Er
m, okay.”

  He wanted to say and do more.

  Instead, he walked away, going to the guy and taking him out front to sign the paperwork needed.

  His cock was aching so bad, and he wanted inside her.

  “You and Casey, huh?” Lionel asked.

  The biggest problem with being in a small town, everyone liked to spread rumors about other people’s business.

  “There’s no way you’re going to pretend you didn’t see anything, are you?”

  “Not a chance.”

  “Great.”

  “It’s a good match. I know her parents would love for her to have a reason to stay.”

  “There is always a reason to stay.”

  “Yeah, but when it comes to the matters of the heart, there is always more of a reason.” Lionel signed his name and left.

  “Great, just great.”

  There was no denying what was going to happen. The entire town would know he and Casey were making out in his workshop. It wasn’t so bad, or at least, he didn’t think so.

  Chapter Five

  “I’m just saying he’s a nice guy,” Abby said.

  Casey rolled her eyes as this had to be the hundredth time her mother had said the exact same thing. It wasn’t anything new.

  “I know.”

  And he was a damn good kisser, but she hadn’t told her mother any other of the finer details of her make out session with Rusty that was brought to an end much too soon.

  “Will you be going on a date with him again?” Abby asked.

  “I don’t know. If he asks?” They hadn’t gotten a chance to talk about their kiss as everyone who was anyone suddenly arrived at his shop needing help from changing tires to checking brakes.

  She knew without a doubt people wanted to see if she and Rusty were making out again. This town didn’t know when to stop when it came to gossip, and well, she couldn’t blame them.

  This was her first time back in forever, and the gossip was already wild.

  There had to be something else going on apart from her and Rusty’s love life, but it seemed everyone just wanted a piece of their action for now. She ended up escaping without too much damage.

  “Why does he have to ask?”

  “I thought you always told me it wasn’t polite for a woman to do all the work.”

  “Pfft, don’t listen to me. Honey, you’re living in the now, not the then. Your father did all the work, but it didn’t mean I didn’t love him just as much. He always knew I was with him every single step of the way.”