Giving up on arguing with him, I unsteadily smile and say, “So, how hard do you plan on riding me?”
His eyes subtly widen, but that’s the only reaction he gives away. When I realize how that sounded, I say in a rush, “About learning this. How long do you think you’ll take drilling it into me? The refreshing, I mean.” I slump in my seat with a conciliatory laugh. “That went well. I think I’m done now.” I shake my head and inhale a deep breath, not paying attention that he’s inclined even closer to me.
Cringing at how stupid I sounded, I risk a glance at Jared, only to see a wicked grin. “Oh, Kit Kat. I plan on riding and drilling you for as long as it takes.” Shit. I don’t think he’s talking about driving. Are we on the same page, or is it a clusterfuck like we had in high school? I wanted to fuck him then, too.
I gulp so loud that I’m sure he heard it. “I’m a fast learner.”
His breath caresses me as he whispers, “I’m willing to go nice and slow with you.” His gaze slides down my body, feeling him stripping me as he goes, and I nearly come. God. I want him to rip my clothes right off me, ending my years of misery fantasizing about him being inside me, gasping my name and admitting he loves me. However, does he want that, or is he just flirting with me again, not wanting more than to just fuck me? If he even wants that? He could still be playing games with me. I need to find out, yet I also need to focus on grasping onto his help to get me driving. I don’t want things to get awkward between us if I’m wrong, but then, what if Dash is right? Was Jared in love with me?
If so, is he still?
I edgily laugh. “Not too slow. You’re right. I need to do this, but we only have so much time.”
He nods, the hair sticking out of his hat, brushing my forehead. “And I’ll make it worth your while.”
I whisper, “I bet you will.”
“You saw how Dash lost his bet against me.”
“I would never bet against you.”
“Really, Kit Kat? What would you do against me?”
I flirtatiously smile and his mottled eyes drift to my lips. “I guess you’ll have to wait and see, Jericho.”
Looking back up to my eyes, he whispers back, “Like you said, we don’t have much time.” Is he being serious?
Shocked by him saying that, I sit back some. “Jared, you’re leaving for Philadelphia soon. What are you saying?”
He shakes his head. “I’m… It’s nothing. I’m only…” He sighs, and apparently our flirting over, he sits back. Lifting his Colts hat, he runs a hand into his hair, before putting the hat back on his head with the bill in front.
I can’t let it end like this. I want him to know that I do want us to have something real, even if he’s leaving. I’ll never forgive myself if I let him go and we not actually give us a try this time. Anything. I’ll take having anything with him over being left without him and having nothing again. It’ll kill me.
Be brave, Kat.
“It’s nothing? If you keep checking out my boobs, it’ll definitely be something.”
Jared’s mouth opens faster than I can open a bag of chips during a monthly salt craving, and I giggle at his expression, enjoying that I caught him so off-guard like that. Yet, as I laugh, he turns the tables on me, catching me by surprise.
Inching closer, his lips graze my ear as he whispers, “Don’t tease me, Kat, because you don’t know the half of it.” Shit. I hope I don’t leave a damp spot on the car seat.
I unflinchingly ask, “Who says I’m teasing? I want to know all of it.”
Suddenly, he moves away from me, his eyes distant, matching his entire demeanor. “That’s all you did to me in school.”
I shake my head emphatically. “No, Jared. That’s what you did to me.”
His eyes are everywhere, except for me. “What are you saying now?”
“Nothing,” I say, borrowing his answer.
As I unbuckle my seatbelt, he asks, “Is it true what you said last night?”
I turn to face him as I grab the door handle. “If you can remember, I meant every single word.”
Jared swoops forward; again, our lips nearly meet for the first time. He whispers, “Take out those contacts and throw them away.”
Confused, I ask, “Why? I need them to drive.”
His voice grows louder and impatient. “Put goddamned clear ones in or wear glasses. I don’t give a fuck. They’re not you.” Jared suddenly glances away and frowns, so I turn to see where he’s looking. Dash and my mom are walking out of the build. “Damn it.” He sighs and says, “Tomorrow morning, permit. Tomorrow afternoon, we’re in this car. Be ready.”
“That’s fine, but we should also try to talk more.” I hold my breath as I finally tell him that, hoping he’s not going to totally shut me down like he’s so good at doing.
Recoiling from me again, he toys with the steering wheel cover and asks, “About?”
I open the glove compartment and take out the papers he printed for me. “Life. What we’ve been doing since we last saw each other. I don’t know. Maybe there are things we should’ve also talked about years ago.”
“Like what?” He’s definitely on-guard now.
“I don’t know. Maybe they’ll come up as we talk?”
“Why dig up the past?” Jared’s grip on the steering wheel tightens. He’s freaking out. Shit. It’s not my day to be right at all.
“Because we should. We’re here in the present and since you remember what I told you last night, I think we need to talk more—just as friends,” I reiterate to calm his panicking, if that’s what he’s doing. “Don’t friends do that? Talk about their lives? We’re friends, right?”
He nods at the windshield. “Yeah. Friends.”
“Good.” I smile, trying to catch his attention, but he doesn’t look at me.
He stiffly says, “Okay. We’ll talk more, but you’ve been warned, Kit Kat.”
“Warned? We’re just aiming to talk to each other more. No secrets. No hiding things. I’m not going anywhere.”
He chews on the inside of his cheek, fleetingly looking at me before turning his head to the road. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” I take that as my cue to shut the door, and watch him as he leaves.
Something else he’s so good at doing.
CHAPTER 13
Monday morning, I show up to the construction with the Nissan, having promised my grandmother I would take her anywhere she needs to go, but then turning around and haranguing Kat into being the one to take her places. I’ll never forget the look on Kat’s face when I informed her of that scenario. I really wouldn’t make her do that because I know that’s still a tough thing for her to attempt, even if it’s not her grandmother. I think it might set her in too much of a panic and I wouldn’t put that upon her.
I guess I could say I’m shell-shocked with what she said to me Saturday night. I had wanted to be more than friends with her in school, yet she didn’t. I threw her all kinds of hints, practically hitting her over the head with them. Asking her out on several occasions, offering her my jersey to wear, and how I couldn’t keep my fucking hands to myself had no effect on her because in the end, she made a mockery of me by dating someone else. That’s hard to get past.
Being friends with her is something with which I’m struggling. I want to, but how do I do that—be friends with her? Were we really ever in the first place or was it all in my head? Even though I told her that we’re friends and I should be the one to help her, I have no idea how to proceed with her, really. Nevertheless, if I had known she didn’t have her license all this time, I would’ve stepped up sooner. She deserves to not suffer the loss she did every day of her life. I know what that’s like, and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, and as much as she hurt me, she’d be the last person I’d wish that pain upon.
Maybe I can be friends with her.
Then again, yesterday, alone with Kat, brought back raw memories for me, as well as feelings I thought I had already worked through in the past few years. Shit. Sh
e kept saying I was right, but I was fucking wrong. I instantly found myself touching her whenever I could, trying to make up for not having that luxury for so long. Her skin felt silkier than I had remembered.
Even more, her breath over my lips, her hand curled beneath mine, and the look of intent concentration on her face when she didn’t know I was staring, were all methods of straight up torture. Instead of watching how she hugged the curb, I was watching how her pink tank top hugged her tits. When I was supposed to be paying attention to her steering, or backing out of a parking space, the fringe on her jean shorts, clinging to her thighs the way I want my hands to, had me dangerously preoccupied. Putting my hand on hers to shift gears came close to me moving her hand to my dick and begging her to touch me. I had to keep moving around in my seat so she wouldn’t see the boner I had for her, and she wasn’t even overtly doing anything for me to react that way.
I had trouble staying focused, to say the least. I’ve forever used my hand in place of hers, but to have the real thing touching me, I’d probably come all over her before she could even start jacking me off.
Even harder to ignore? Her scent. I’m like a magnet to steel around her as it is, and if I’m not fondling her, I need to breathe in her perfume. What’s worse? When she’s nervous about driving, it’s even more potent, turning me on, while turning off any coherent thought. At one point, I almost kissed her neck, just to feel her skin on my lips, as she did to me on the dance floor. Despite being drunk, her kiss knocked me for a loop more than any drink ever could.
Following how sweet she smells, arise the thoughts of how delicious she would taste. Resisting the urge to graze my mouth over her neck was just short of a miracle, but if I had kissed her, there would’ve been no stopping my tongue, and from there, I would’ve moved to her lips and that’s a problem for me.
I don’t kiss females. They kiss me, but when I don’t return the gesture, they give up, often complaining. Kat is different. So different. To taste her mouth and tongue is another desire I have that is becoming harder to overlook. I want to kiss her, yet I don’t, not because I categorize her like the rest, but because…I don’t know how to kiss her.
Not only do I imagine tasting her mouth, but I also fantasize about tasting her pussy—something I haven’t done to anyone before, never having that inclination to do it. Yet, I crave hers. This all may sound stupid, but when avoiding those activities has been what I’ve always done, the skills needed to do them don’t come readily on demand. As a grown man, I’m supposed to know how to do all that shit, but she’d instantly notice that I’m lacking and I’d be humiliated. I can’t let her do that to me again.
Walking over to Tony’s van, where Dash is leaning against it, he grins and says, “What’s up, Jericho?”
Frowning, I stop a few feet in front of him. “You’re really talking to me? That’s ballsy.”
He rolls his eyes and laughs. “Oh, you still love—like—me, and you know it.”
I cross my arms, glaring at Dash as I do. “You’re not even in that galaxy. And by the way, next time you steal my damn car, bring a booster seat because you screwed up my seat setting, and don’t touch my fucking stereo. I hate Sesame Street music.”
“It was R&B.”
“Does that stand for repulsive and bothersome?”
“To each his own.” Dash points with his chin to the street. “What’s with the ride? Your dad ground you and take your Charger away from you?”
“Yeah, just like when you used to be grounded, you had to polish your mom’s stripper pole for a week.”
“Nope. Muhammad, that one-eyed guy with the patch and the misspelled Jane Austen quote tattooed on his forearm, did it after closing. How could you forget him?”
I shake my head as I peer around the yard. “It was a Steve Austin tattoo, you dumbass.”
“Oh, yeah. Steve.” He laughs and as I continue searching around, he asks, “You looking for a stray Kat?”
I give him another debatable look. “Where is she?”
He smiles as he drums his fingers against the obvious phone bulge in his pocket. “Why do you suddenly want to know so much about her whereabouts?” I guess I can’t keep it a secret.
“I’m taking her to get her learner’s permit this morning. I’ll be helping her get her license.”
Dash nods. “She told me you offered to help her. I couldn’t even believe it. That’s… That’s rather nice of you.”
I frown at his gratified smile. “I’m not some kind of evil tyrant.”
“Yeah, but you weren’t exactly happy to run into her. Why is that? You still haven’t said.”
“And I won’t.” I shrug and look toward the house. “It’s fine she’s here.”
“Okay. I’m glad you’re reconnecting with her.” That’s a bit much.
Lange catches my attention, waving, so I wave back and pull at my cap’s bill. “I’m not reconnecting anything.”
“If you say so.”
“I do.”
He snaps his fingers. “Oh. I’ll have the key to the beach house Thursday. Rio will meet us there later in the afternoon since he has to work, but Liberty won’t be able to make it until Friday.”
I take my turn snapping my fingers. “What a shame.”
“Jericho, she’s not going to be a problem. She may even make you laugh.”
“I highly doubt that.”
“Be nice to her like you’re being to Kat. I don’t want you and Rio fighting the whole time. Or you and Liberty. Let’s have fun.”
Crossing my arms again, I shrug and glance around. “I probably should just stay home.”
Dash steps closer, pounding his fist into his hand. “No! We’re fishing to catch nothing. We’re having lame bonfires. We’re roasting shitty marshmallows. We’re watching damn fireworks. We’re going to have a motherfucking good time, whether you like it or not!”
Even though I frown, I want to laugh at his fuming face because it reminds me of an angry kitten. “Jesus. What’s wrong with you?”
“You’re not going to ruin our trip by staying here and pouting about Liberty being there! You’ll be gone soon and we might not get to do this next year!”
I can’t keep from laughing anymore. “Not true, Calder. I’ll come back to shove you into the ocean. I live for it.”
Appearing to be somewhat pacified, he cracks his knuckles and randomly asks, “Why don’t you bring Kat?”
My scowl returns, turned up five notches. “What the fuck for?” There are so many reasons Kat can’t be there, most of them involving hugging her tits myself, and that can’t happen. Even if I’ve had meaningless sex all my life, I know it’d be a unique experience with her, and that intimidates me. As much as I desperately want to fuck her, finally squelching that long-burning fire, I can’t be that vulnerable with her because I’m afraid of what my reaction will be, like I’ll want beyond a one-time thing. Ultimately, it’s just another opportunity to open myself up for more humiliation and pain.
“You might have fun with her. Catch up on old times.”
“They’re in the past. We learned to drive a car together. That’s all.”
Dash nods, rolling his eyes. “You can still bring her. You know there are plenty of rooms…or she can share yours.” He grins, sticking out his tongue and biting the tip. Asshole.
“Fuck you. I swear if you invite her, after I run you over with my car, I’ll throw you off the goddamned Chesapeake Bridge.”
He puts up his hands, laughing, always pushing my boundaries. “Okay. Okay. I promise I won’t invite her. Get a grip, Jericho. I’m picking you up, so if I have her with me that would be obvious and idiotic.”
“Unless you want your nuts used as a floatation device, too.”
He flinches, and seeing Kat walking out of the construction, I walk over with Dash surprisingly trailing behind. He’s a tenacious bastard, that’s for sure.
She smiles and says, “Good morning, Dash. Jared.” She actually listened to me. With her now-b
rown eyes shining at me, I virtually gawk at her. There are the eyes that I remember so well, and have seen in my mind every fucking day since my last day of school.
Before I can reply, Dash puts his arm over her shoulders and says, “Good morning, Merrick. Jericho was just saying how he’s schooling you on how to shift his gears. Way to go.”
Giggling, Kat nudges Dash as I give him a dirty look. Turning to her, I ask, “Ready? She nods and I notice Dash squeezing her shoulder before he lets go of her. We start walking to the car, leaving me somewhat unsettled by his unspoken words to her. Hasn’t he heard a fucking thing I’ve said to him about not getting involved with her? He’d better not be because that would break our friendship. That kind of treachery would be the end of it for me.
I clear my throat and ask, “Did you bring all the paperwork they’ll need?”
“Here in my purse. I even studied the rules and road signs you gave me until 2:00 AM.”
I open the passenger door for her and force a smirk. “Good, because I’ll be quizzing you on the way there.” That earns me a pout.
Keeping my promise, I shoot questions to Kat, which she answers all but two correctly. Not wanting her to be discouraged, I explain why she got them wrong and then ask another round, rewording the questions she answered wrong, and she gets them all correct. Satisfaction fills me, and I’m pleased that she finally wants to make this change and do this for herself.
However, once we get to the MVA, all of our good optimism falls flat.
“You mean I can’t get a full-fledged driver’s license until I take a driver’s ed. course? But I took a driver’s ed. class in high school!”
The gray-haired clerk nods. His beady eyes fly up and down Kat’s face and then to her paperwork. “Not recently.”
The horror in her voice is evident. “So I have to take it again?”
“Yes. A minimum of 30-hours classroom instruction and 6-hours behind the wheel instruction training are required before you can graduate to a provisional license, which is a probationary license.”
The Keys to Jericho Page 21
