Shut Up and Kiss Me: A Lost Boys Novel

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Shut Up and Kiss Me: A Lost Boys Novel Page 5

by Jessica Lemmon


  I tried another tactic. “There’s no one in there. I just came out. You look like you need a minute, so why don’t you let me clean you up?”

  He considered my offer, his eyes zooming in on a table with a couple our age sitting there. I went for the kill shot.

  “Come on, people are staring at you.”

  They weren’t, not really. But that couple did a neck-crane glance-over. I hoped it wasn’t because they’d overheard me. Cade caught sight of them and the next thing I knew, he was dragging me into the ladies’ room.

  It was a onesie. When we were both in, I locked the door. Cade was standing, hands at his sides, eyes unfocused like he was reliving whatever had happened.

  Given that Oak & Sage was a super-fancy restaurant, there was no paper towel dispenser. Instead, there was a basket filled with plush cotton towels. White. Which would be unfortunate for the person who was responsible for the restaurant’s laundry. I cranked the cold water on and wet the towel under the stream.

  “What happened?” I repeated. I didn’t think he would answer me, and I was right. “Did you hit something?” I inspected his knuckles. Likely the blood wasn’t his. Upon closer examination in better light, I saw abrasions, but no deep cuts.

  I hazarded a glance up at him. He shook his head.

  Dabbing the wet towel against his knuckles gently, I muttered under my breath, “Well, I hope you didn’t hit someone.”

  I heard a sniff and looked up again. The side of Cade’s mouth lifted into a smirk and then dropped.

  “You hit someone?” I stopped cleaning him up. “Are you serious?”

  He shrugged.

  “What were you thinking? You can’t hit people because…”

  I stopped midsentence when he snatched the towel out of my hand and finished cleaning his knuckles with twice the force and half the patience I had used.

  “Cade, if you’re upset or if you get angry, you need to take it out in a more healthy way than punching somebody.”

  He tossed the towel into the basket in the corner of the bathroom. Then turned on me and crossed his arms. My eyes accidentally skated over his ample biceps. Even in that unflattering black polo shirt, he was achingly attractive.

  “Wuh-what do you suggest, T-Tasha?”

  I didn’t react to his stutter. I was too focused on his tone.

  “Try counting down from ten,” I said, as if his question hadn’t been rhetorical. He advanced toward me. “Slowing your breathing helps.” Another step. “Have you tried meditation?” The word “meditation” left my lips on a whisper, because now Cade was standing directly in front of me. I backed up to give myself breathing space, but there was nowhere to go. My butt hit the door.

  “Or?” His voice was a soft rumble, and in an instant I remembered the way he used to be. The way he was at the frat party, when he wandered over to hit on me. But this version of Cade was completely different from that version. He used to ooze confidence. Now there was a dangerous quality to him, and it completely towed me in.

  His lips lowered to mine and before I thought about why I was doing it, my eyelids closed. His scent swirled around me, piney and earthy, though I doubted it was cologne. Soap, I guessed. My chin tipped up and his warm breath cascaded over my lips, sending droves of tingles down both arms.

  I swore I felt his lips touch mine in the briefest brush, but then the handle on the door jiggled, followed by a sharp knock. I reeled off the wood like I’d been shocked, sliding along his torso in my effort to escape. Escape what, I didn’t know.

  Cade didn’t panic, but he did look more cautious than he had a moment ago.

  “We should get out of here,” I told him in a harsh whisper. “Are you okay to go out?”

  “Are you?” He spoke clear as a bell, those two words enunciated perfectly.

  If I wasn’t so busy being turned on by our almost kiss, I might be impressed.

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” I answered. Turning my back on him, I unlocked the handle and exited the bathroom, noting that the well-dressed older woman at the threshold appeared slightly inconvenienced. Then Cade exited behind me and her expression shifted to positively scandalized.

  “We thought this was the kitchen,” I said with a smile, but my excuse made zero sense.

  When she latched the bathroom door, I turned to see Cade smiling. Dimple and all. Not gonna lie, my knees went a little gooey.

  “K-kitchen,” he repeated.

  “Shut up,” I murmured, then I beelined for the bar, where I collected my purse from Rena, said a quick goodbye, and drove straight home.

  But on the way, I noticed I was smiling too. All because of the almost kiss in Oak & Sage’s ladies’ room.

  Cade

  I should probably be grateful that Devlin drove me home from work so my father didn’t have to pick me up. It wasn’t like I could ask Tasha for a ride. By the time I meandered to the bar, she was out the door, her hair swishing behind her.

  Not sure exactly what happened in there. She’d dragged me into the bathroom and peppered me with sexual innuendo like buckshot. Then there was the matter of the locked door, and the fact that we had a few minutes to ourselves that had nothing to do with therapy.

  By the time she’d made suggestions on how I could relax, the only option I could think of was Kissing you.

  So close. I could still taste the shared air between us. Still smell the slightly fruity fragrance of her bubblegum pink lip gloss.

  “I get it,” Dev interrupted, jerking me out of my thoughts. “Hamilton is a dick.”

  After Tasha left, I pulled out my phone and sent Devlin a text telling him exactly what had happened in the kitchen. Then I’d ventured back into the kitchen to help, despite the cold stares coming from the line.

  Devlin had changed into his kitchen clothes and ran the grill in Hamilton’s absence, and it wasn’t like any of the guys would dare challenge me in front of him.

  The worst part about it was that my biggest and best defense, that formerly silver tongue of mine, was at present my worst enemy. I couldn’t stand up for myself or make a case for myself. Instead, I stayed silent and relied on looking mean. At least they knew I wasn’t afraid to throw a punch.

  “That said, he’s my only grill guy,” Devlin said now. “If he quits…I’m screwed, man. Unless you want to be trained on grill.” His eyes flicked to mine before returning to the road again. I didn’t have to speak for him to know my answer. I wasn’t looking to build a career at Oak & Sage.

  It started to rain and I watched the drops hit the windshield while I groused.

  “I’m not giving you special treatment,” Dev continued.

  I didn’t want special treatment, but telling him so would involve a lot of complicated words, so instead I pressed out two I was capable of. “Got it.”

  In my driveway, Devlin waved a hand without looking over at me. “I’ll talk to the guys.”

  “D-don’t.” I leveled him with my most severe glare. The last thing I needed was my brother telling everybody not to pick on me.

  He nodded as if he understood. Maybe he did.

  “Fine. But find a better way to communicate with them that does not involve you throwing your fists. Do it again, Cade, and I swear, you’re fired. I don’t care whose fault it is. I’m running a restaurant, and it’s a lot harder than it looks.”

  Pissed at being treated like a child, I climbed out of the car and slammed the door. Which admittedly was a childish reaction. Of the two of us, I understood how Devlin saw himself as the consummate adult. He was living with his girlfriend, running the restaurant, raking in money. But I refused to be pitied or treated like I was less-than because I’d been forced to start over.

  Directly after the accident, I had pretty much hated life and everything that went with it. That included my father, that included Devlin, and that included the unfairness of life in general. Now I was torn between anger and something else…I don’t know what it was, but it felt a lot like motivation to be better.


  That was some shit.

  Headlights swept out of the driveway as I punched in the code for the garage door. The rain was light, but I found myself wishing it would storm. That might be enough to dampen my temper. My interaction with Hamilton was an hour-plus in the past, but I still vibrated with anger.

  After the garage door rose to the top, I closed it again and went upstairs to my home away from home, grateful I didn’t run into my dad when I walked in, since I wanted to be alone.

  But once I stepped into the kitchenette and pulled a bottle of water from the fridge, I realized that I didn’t want to be alone. My gaze moved from the rain-spattered window to the empty love seat.

  I didn’t want to be alone at all.

  Chapter 5

  Tasha

  God, I loved Taylor Swift. I loved her music and the rhythm of it, and the fact that it was really easy to dance around to in a pair of boxers and a T-shirt with the speakers cranked all the way up.

  The novelty of having a home to myself had not worn off. Even in my dorm, I had a roommate.

  Still in celebration mode a few days later, I was content to bop in the kitchen while tossing a pizza in the oven. Not the frozen grocery-store kind. This was one you take and bake from the local pizzeria. The kind of homemade dough that bakes up crisp on the edges and chewy in the middle.

  Oh, sweet carbs, take me home.

  I had just uncorked a bottle of white wine, completing my plans. A delightful evening of kitchen dancing, wine, and way too many calories in the company of myself. That’s right, anything to get me to stop thinking about Cade almost kissing me. Only I hadn’t stopped thinking about it, because there wasn’t anywhere to pack that information. And so it floated around untethered in my head.

  The way his eyes heated, the way his lips parted, the tickle of his breath over my skin…

  I touched my lips now, realizing that the moment taught me a lot more than I expected. I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted it more than I dared to admit aloud.

  So I wouldn’t. Not ever. To anyone.

  The song ended and my iPod switched to Ed Sheeran. Much as I loved Ed, the last song I needed right now was one dripping with regrets about love lost. No, thanks. I punched a button and skipped it.

  Sipping my wine, I stared at my reflection in the glass of the eye-level black oven. School had been extra sucky today. I was pretty sure I’d failed my test in Critical Analysis, and I’d experienced the unpleasantness of seeing Tony with his new girlfriend.

  My ex-boyfriend was bad enough on his own and became infinitely worse when he was with his petite, perfect new girlfriend with big green anime eyes and a skirt so short I could see tan lines. I wrinkled my nose and finished my wine in one gulp.

  I used to have Tony over to my dad’s house whenever my dad went out of town. We would spend the weekend lounging on the couch, making food, or making love in my bedroom. And if he wasn’t available (although I learned much later he wasn’t available because he was a dirty cheater), I would invite my girlfriends instead. We’d order pizza and watch movies, impromptu dance parties an inevitable eventuality.

  Now I lived on my own, had the place to myself each and every day. Having friends over had stopped when I left Tony. Last year I lived on campus, had a roommate, had a boyfriend, had a bunch of friends. Rarely was there a weekend where I didn’t have a party to go to or a friend’s house to hang out in.

  Until…

  Tony was caught kissing an acquaintance named Jamie. Next I found out that not only was Tony kissing Jamie, he was sleeping with her. To top that off, I found out he had also slept with two of my other friends. While he and I were dating.

  When my roommate moved off campus to save money this year, that left me with a bunch of slutty friends who avoided me like the proverbial plague.

  So. Here I was.

  Alone, because hanging around a bunch of bitches who would just as soon sleep with my boyfriend as look at me was worse.

  I refilled my wine. The direction of my thoughts made me consider drinking the entire bottle. Just as I lifted the glass to take a sip, the buzzer rang.

  Given my friendless state, and the fact that I’d seen Rena only yesterday, I couldn’t imagine who would be here. I went to the box next to my front door and pressed a button.

  “Hello?” I greeted.

  No response.

  I punched the button again and repeated, “Hellooo?”

  Nothing.

  I gave up, but as soon as I turned my back the buzzer announced itself again in a succession of three quick zzzts.

  “What!” I said into the speaker.

  “It’s m-me.”

  My face went warm. “Cade? What are you doing here?”

  I couldn’t think of one single reason he’d come to see me. Moreover, what the hell was he doing at my apartment at ten o’clock at night? How the heck did he even know where I lived?

  The buzzer buzzed again and I punched the button.

  “Don’t do that!” I hissed.

  Again he remained silent. I imagined talking into a speaker was his least favorite pastime.

  I could also imagine him out there, furious expression, refusing to open his mouth and speak to me. I thought of his face yesterday. The way his fists were curled, anger vibrating through him. Then I thought of his blood-covered knuckles and wondered if there had been another incident at work. Surely he hadn’t punched someone else…

  After a long, long pause, I punched the speaker and said, “Are you still out there?”

  “Y-yes,” came the growled response.

  I held down the button so he could get in and then opened my front door to stand on the landing.

  I heard his shoes on the stairs before I saw him. I leaned over the railing, catching a glimpse of his brown hair. My eyes slipped down to my bare legs, my bare feet. My nearly bare everything.

  Thinking I had the evening to myself, I’d pulled on a pair of plaid boxers and a threadbare gray T-shirt with the number seventeen on the front. This was my standard sleepwear, and until ten seconds ago, my dress code had been perfect for the party of two in my apartment: me and a pizza.

  I couldn’t do much about my ponytail or the fact I’d already scrubbed my makeup off, but at the very least I could change my clothes and make myself presentable. I started to run for my apartment, but then Cade appeared on the stairs, chin lifted, hand wrapped around the railing, scowl on his face.

  He was angry. I wasn’t sure what to do with angry Cade. The safest route would be to send him away. But when I thought about that, I wondered who he’d talk to if not me. Did he have anyone to talk to? I didn’t.

  It was the first time I’d considered what we had in common.

  Instead of fleeing to my apartment, I waited, arms crossed, while he completed the final trek up the stairs. On the landing he greeted me with silence and an infuriated expression.

  His sandy-colored eyebrows were so low his eyes were in shadow. I felt them as they grazed me from head to toe. Tingles chased down my arms and legs, but before I could become inappropriately transfixed on his mouth, those lips pursed and Cade Wilson said the last two words I thought I’d ever hear him say.

  He stumbled over the F, dragging it out a few beats, but the message was crystal clear.

  “Fffix me.”

  Cade

  Tonight at Oak & Sage I did exactly what Devlin had asked of me. I kept to myself, kept my fists to myself, and ignored both the knucklehead on the salad bar and Hamilton’s prodding.

  I understood. In the hierarchy of the restaurant, I was the lame one of the herd. To establish dominance and keep the pecking order intact, they needed to treat me like a lesser member of society.

  It didn’t make my life easier. Especially when Hamilton put one meaty paw on my shoulder and blew me a kiss. I doubted Hamilton was gay. More likely he was trying to get a rise out of me. Tempting, but I needed my job, and I was taking Devlin at his word. He’d fire me if I overreacted. Hamilton had to know that. And
he was trying to get me fired as quickly as possible.

  So I didn’t react. I tamped it down and gritted through the shift, the name-calling, and when I was done, all that anger resurfaced as I turned over the things I could’ve said. I wished I could’ve said.

  I drove to Tasha’s apartment like a bat out of hell, running on bottled anger. I had no idea what to do with the emotions running through me like lava.

  Such were the circumstances that ended with me standing in her apartment building’s hallway. Her prim brows rose while I tried my level best to keep my eyes above her neck. She was wearing…almost nothing. I was lucky I managed the two words I did when she opened the door. Now my tongue was spot-welded to the roof of my mouth.

  “Hi.” Her blue eyes swam over me, probably looking for any sign of injury, or maybe someone else’s blood. I must have looked and sounded as pissed off as I felt. “Are you all right?”

  I was, now that I was looking at a pair of smooth, tanned thighs curving out of a short pair of boxers. I’d seen Tasha in dresses before, but she wore knee-high boots with them. And her skirts were never as short as those boxers. I caught a flash of hot pink as she backed toward her open apartment door. I glanced down to her bare toes and hot pink nail polish.

  It was the second sexiest part of her.

  Don’t even get me started on the super-thin shirt.

  “Cade?”

  After a few false starts at trying to say the word “fine,” I went with “yeah” instead.

  She lifted her ponytail, revealing the length of her neck. I tried, honest to God, I tried, but I couldn’t resist dipping my eyes down to her chest. Two of the most perfect nipples were tickling the threadbare fabric of her T-shirt. I wanted to know what color they were.

  My mouth watered.

  She dropped her arms and crossed them over her breasts. A second later I heard a peeved “Excuse me.”

  Realizing I was staring, I jerked my eyes away from her breasts. Because nipples. Seriously. Help me.

  “I guess I should invite you in to talk.” She threw a dismissive hand in the air and the movement jiggled parts of her I was desperately trying not to focusing on. “Or mime. Whatever.”

 

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