My thighs clench at the sentiment of his words, which were intended to describe the sport of surfing, but at the same time, I know he’s so not talking about surfing.
“Are you a player?” I ask almost as softly as his whisper entered my ear.
“A player? No, surfers don’t play, but you should know . . .”
I instinctually scoot back on my stool, causing my butt to almost slide off the other side. That would be super cute in a dress.
Somehow, I manage to pry my focus off the serious composure Sterling has maintained and glance at Jade, whose mouth is agape, in combination with her bulging eyes.
“What is it I should know?” I put my big girl voice to the test, doing my best to hide the effect Sterling has on my pulse and panties.
“We’re fierce competitors, which means I’m good at riding long . . . deep, and hard waves until I come to shore.” That was not what I meant by being a player, and he’s still not talking about surfing. It’s a night. I mean, I need to call it a night.
“Jade, it’s time to go.”
I hop off the bar stool and grab my purse, quickly remembering the dull pain lingering in my ankle. Shit. Where the heck did she go now? I was so entranced . . . err . . . shocked by Sterling’s hot . . . no, inappropriate words that I didn’t notice Jade wander off.
There are less than a dozen people in here, and I can’t see her so she must be in the bathroom. She better be in the goddamn bathroom.
Sterling’s hand shoots up and takes my wrist. “Hey, I was joking around with you. You know that, right?” He does appear a bit concerned, probably for whatever ghostly look has taken up residence on my already pale face.
“Of course,” I say with a hitch in my throat. There is no way he wouldn’t see right through my answer because I don’t think he was joking. “For the record, in case there was any serious intent behind your cute analogies, I’m not that kind of girl.” Well, maybe I was that kind of girl during freshman and sophomore year of college, but that led me nowhere good so now I make smarter decisions. Now, I’m making smarter decisions, and that doesn’t include riding some long, hard . . . wave. I forgot deep. That either. No. I don’t need to be riding waves. Plus, I can’t swim . . . so there we go. Fate has made the decision for me. No more beautiful men.
“Good,” he says as the corner of his lips twitch. “I’m not into those kinds of girls.”
Jade’s hot pink dress catches the corner of my eye as she steps out of the bathroom, and I wave her over, but she doesn’t speed up her step. She’s too busy making googly eyes with some guy at the other end of the bar. “Jade,” I shout.
By the time she reaches me, Sterling is really pouring on the apologetic puppy pout.
“Honest, I was just kidding. It’s been a long night here and I should get some sleep. I promise to keep my thoughts to myself tomorrow night, even if they just sound inappropriate. Okay?”
“We will be there,” Jade agrees for me as she grabs my hand. “It was a pleasure meeting you.”
With a fake grin and faker squinty smiling eyes, I follow Jade out of the restaurant, bar, lover’s lane place we were in. “Um, I’m pretty sure he is only looking for a little action,” I tell Jade as we step outside.
“Well, good . . . because you probably have cobwebs all up in your lady bits.”
I slap her shoulder. “Shut up. I do not.”
“Unless you met some ugly dude with a big dick in the past month, there are cobwebs. Cob.Webs.” She isn’t aware of my assortment of vibrators, or the Shermanator for that matter, so I’ll let her keep running with her thoughts.
Jade aims her finger at my nose, but misses and pokes me in the eye while attempting to walk backwards, and in front of me.
“Ugh, Jade.” I press my palm against my closed eyelid, rubbing at the pain. “You need to go to bed, and I need to find my way back to Kennebunkport.”
“You can’t drive. You’re drinking.”
“I was drinking, but now I’m ready for bed.”
“Whatever, same thing,” she argues.
I consider her drunken gibberish for a brief moment. Even though the ride is mostly one lane the entire way to Kennebunkport, I don’t do that sort of thing, and I don’t have one-night stands. Anymore. Oh, and I don’t drive after I’ve had a little too much to drink. Anymore. Adulating just sucks. “Fine, I’ll crash on your floor.”
We walk the half mile back to Jade’s apartment, and I’m somewhat glad I’ve had enough to drink that the pain in my ankle is fairly numb. “You should just stay with me all summer. I mean, I wouldn’t want to live where I work. That’s weird and smothering.”
I considered getting my own place after Samantha graciously offered me a guest room in her house, specifically for the reason Jade mentioned, but I am trying to save money to pay my billion-dollar school loans off, and an apartment is a waste of money if I have a free place to stay. The family Jade nannie’s for didn’t offer her a room, but she is also getting significantly more than I am since there are three kids to watch, so it all works out, I suppose.
“As much as I’d love to sleep on your floor for the summer. . .” I laugh. “Hey, do you think I should call Samantha and let her know I won’t be coming back tonight?”
“Dude!” Jade’s voice echoes between the gates of the foot bridge we’re crossing. “It’s like one in the morning. That’s kind of ruder than just not showing up.”
“All I wanted to do was have a quiet dinner tonight to make sure you’re okay, and now look at us?” Jade is a bad influence. Always has been, probably always will be.
“Julia,” A voice shouts from the side of the bridge we came from.
I turn and find Sterling, still wearing his small, black waiter’s apron. “Um . . . yeah?” I’m laughing, but it’s from nerves. Is he following us? This is such a cute little beach town, and I will be on the front-page of the paper in the morning with a headline of: Girls Gone Missing. Abducted by Hot Surfer. I suppose that sounds more like a fantasy than a front page newspaper article in a beach town, but it could happen.
“I don’t mean to embarrass you, but my boss will bite my ass if I don’t cash out at a hundred percent.” What is he talking about?”
“Huh?” Our conversation is continuing over the span of a thirty-foot-long separation of the bridge. Kind of awkward at one in the morning.
“You didn’t pay your tab.”
And that concludes day one. Just perfect.
Why? Why? Why? I’m not sure I’ve ever realized that inebriated Julia always says yes to one more drink, while sober Julia knows when to cut it off. Now, I’m stiff, my back is sore, and there’s a muscle in my neck that feels like a metal rod.
I shut off the foghorn alarm on my phone while painfully peering up at Jade who has a string of drool dripping out of the corner of her mouth. Is that what I look like when I’m sleeping?
Pulling myself up against Jade’s nightstand, I scroll through my phone, waiting for the blur in my eyes to clear. There’s a missed call and a text from a number I recognize but isn’t registered in my phone, so I open the text.
* * *
203-342-2345: Hi Julia, it’s Samantha. Liam mentioned you would be home shortly after him, and I hope I’m not crossing a line, but I felt a bit concerned when you didn’t show up last night. I hope everything is okay!
* * *
Why was she up so late last night? Great, they’re night owls. I run my hand up the side of my face, feeling a sticky spot of eye makeup streaked across my temple. Shit.
I hop up from my makeshift bed and run to the bathroom, once again forgetting about the slight sprain in my ankle. Dammit!
The reflection in the mirror shows a zombie with a hair style that might make someone question whether or not I stuck my finger into an electric socket. My face . . . yeah, there is no amount of make-up—if I had any with me—that would fix this mess.
I splash water over my eyes and scrape off the makeup from last night. Just to make matt
ers worse, I only have my clothes from yesterday with me. Wow, I did not think this through. Not that I was thinking at all last night.
Jade’s closet has always scared me, but I’m afraid I don’t have another choice today. It’s located right outside the bathroom, and I peek over at her to see if she’s awake yet. I’d ask her first if she was, but as expected, she hasn’t moved an inch since I woke up.
Samantha told me I could dress casually, but my version of casual and Jade's are very different. In any case, she has jeans and a button-down shirt—a lime green button down shirt—but it is what it is today.
I slip on her jeans, finding several holes lining the length of my leg from my thigh to my knee. Okay, new plan . . . sneak into my new bedroom and change before anyone sees me. Except, the likelihood of getting away with that is more than slim, especially with Liam lurking around every corner
Managing to get my crap together and into my car within five minutes is impressive for me, but I’m starving and pissed off at myself. I thought if I left home for a few months, I would have a chance to turn a corner, become that responsible adult I know I need to be in preparation for the “real world” I evidently need to be a part of.
Still knowing very little about this area, the only place I know where I can get a good breakfast is that bakery I went to yesterday morning. Actually, come to think of it, I’m basing this decision on smells alone, considering I never ate my breakfast yesterday morning. Wow, I’m really winning this week.
I pull up front and hop out of my car, seeing the small line in front and the group of people walking down the street. Yes, I’m that person who speeds up their step so I don’t have to be courteous and stand behind five people who may or may not want to stare at the long menu of food items. I know I’m being an asshat, but I can’t be late, not after that text.
By the time I make my way up to the register, the two people who were in line have already been helped, and the woman is ready for my order. “Just a croissant and a small coffee please.”
The woman hands me the warm croissant wrapped in thin waxed paper along with the small coffee that smells a little bit like heaven right now. I hear the rumble of people entering the bakery, and I’m thanking my lucky stars I didn’t have to wait in whatever line is forming behind me. I scoot over to the selection of creamers and sugar, quickly creaming, sweetening, and stirring.
God, my thoughts are beginning to sound like Sterling’s. How pleasant.
“Well, hello, Guppy.” No. I don’t have time. And really? Did I just summon him out of nowhere with my dirty thoughts? I don’t have the patience, nor do I have enough blood left in my face for more discomfort. I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear him. It’s super loud in here, so it’s totally possible. “Guppy!” Okay, so he’s getting louder now, but my name isn’t Guppy. Why in the world would I respond to that name of all names? Just because I happen to recognize his deep guttural, yet sex-laced voice does not mean he needs to know that. But his hand is on my back now, and the scent of his . . . I don’t know . . . is that some type of ocean-scented cologne or literally the scent of . . . it’s salty. He smells like salt. It shouldn’t be a gross smell, but why does it smell so goddamn good? Okay, once again, no Julia. Right. Off. Track. Why does he have to look good, smell good, and make sexual innuendos toward me? I can’t believe he thinks that would gain my attention. Doesn’t he know I’m stronger than that? I am stronger than that, dammit. His amazing scent doesn’t faze me at all!
“I know you weren’t just calling me a guppy,” I tell him, careful to maintain my calm composure as I place the lid back on top of my coffee.
“It’s a cute fish . . . I wouldn’t take it as an insult,” Sterling says.
“Well, I’ll be late for work if I don’t get going. Nice seeing you again.” Keeping it casual is always key.
“Looking forward to tonight,” he adds in. Crap. I almost forgot about that, possibly on purpose. I don’t know what it is, but he makes me nervous, and I’m not sure if it’s in a good way or a bad way. Confidence has never been an issue for me, but he is making me question myself a bit.
I hold my cup up and offer a slight smirk. “Yup, can’t wait.” I’m pretty sure that sounded as honest as I’m feeling, making me look a little like an asshole.
Breathe. Just breathe. It’s fine. I’m fine. Today is going to go fine.
I repeat my mantra all the way to the car and while pulling out onto the main road. Why me? Why does this guy have an interest in me? Maybe none of this would have come about if Jade didn’t initiate a double date with his brother. I can’t even understand why she wants to go on a date with someone after breaking things off with Chip just weeks ago. I can understand she may be in need of some type of rebound, but that’s not my thing. I believe in letting a heart heal before letting anything else in, which may or may not be the reason for my one-year-long dry spell. Still, I haven’t seen those situations end well most of the time, but Jade has been my best friend long enough for me to know there is no talking her out of anything she has her mind set on. So, tonight is happening, and I’ll focus on keeping my hands and feet inside my personal space at all times, and no one will get hurt. Easy.
I inhale the croissant as if I haven’t eaten in a year and quickly down more coffee than I should. Now I have to pee, and I feel like I might regurgitate everything I just ate. This is what stress does to me. Next, my face will break out. What have I done to my simple little life? It’s normal for people to leave the nest, find their way, and do so happily. Therefore, I can’t understand this rocky transition I appear to be having. Is it me, or just a bout of bad luck? Alrighty . . . breathe. Nothing has even happened. This is all simple. I work with a jerk. That’s normal because Dad said there’s at least one jerk in everyone’s office. So, that answers that.
I sprained my ankle running down the stairs . . . totally normal . . . I walk into walls at least once a week
So then, the only other problem is that a hot guy wants to go out with me tonight, and it’s causing me to freak out. That may not be so normal.
Maybe I’m just homesick.
I take my phone from the cup holder and place the speaker end up toward my mouth. “Siri, call Dad.” I know he’s at work, but . . . I need some sense slapped into me.
The phone only rings once before he picks up. “Jelly-Bean, you okay?” he whispers quietly. “I’m at work.”
“Daddddd,” I whine like a child. “There’s a boy being a jerk to me, another one likes me, Jade has lost her mind, I sprained my ankle yesterday, and . . . yeah, that’s it, but I needed to hear your voice.”
Dad laughs under his breath as if what I just said was funny. “Jelly-Bean, be a jerk back to that guy. If you like the other one, be a jerk to him too . . . that always works and put ice on your ankle. The problems plaguing your world have now been solved.”
“Be a jerk to the guy who likes me?” I repeat, knowing he’s being Dad.
“Yeah, that’s how a guy knows you like him too.”
“Mmhm, I’m pretty sure that only works in kindergarten.”
“Still works throughout life; trust me.” Right. “What’s really going on, sweetie?”
I think for a long second, knowing he probably needs to get off the phone before his foreman catches him, but as my eyes blur with tears, I think of my room back home. I remember sitting on the couch with Dad at night while we watch ridiculous reality TV, and a pain enters my chest. “I’m just a little homesick, I guess.”
Now he’s the one who’s silent for a minute. “Julia, you know home will always be here for you. I want you to enjoy your summer and learn everything you can at that big corporate job you scored the internship for. Make your dad proud. I bet you in a week’s time, you’ll be feeling much better about your situation, okay?” My big corporate job. I lied to him so he wouldn’t be upset about my decision to take the easy road for the summer before I start truly facing adult life and reality. “Honey, I have to run. Boss man is heading in
this direction. Call me tonight if you want to talk some more. Love you, sweetie. Miss you.
The phone goes silent before I have a chance to tell him I miss and love him too. It’s possible I’m feeling all of this due to guilt because I’m lying to him, just like Mom always lied to him.
As I pull into the Taylors’ driveway, I pull my visor down to peek in the mirror, and I’m reminded of what I look like . . . which is a walking hangover from last night. Just beautiful. Way to look on my first real day of work. Nothing like showing up for a nanny job looking like a drunk.
I take the last sip of my coffee and hike up their rocky driveway. Do I ring the doorbell, or just walk in? Technically, I live here for the next few months, so I shouldn’t have to ring—she gave me a key. Right. I twist the knob and finding it unlocked, I walk in to Samantha, Daniel—her husband, Dylan, and Liam. As much as I didn’t think I’d have any blood left in my face, I feel it boiling within my cheeks now.
“We were worried about you last night,” Samantha comes right out with. “We know you aren’t very familiar with the area. Is everything okay?”
“Oh,” I nervously twist a short strand of hair behind my ear and croak out a small laugh. “Yeah, I crashed with a friend last night. I didn’t mean to worry anyone.” It is a little strange that they were worried. I’m their employee, not their daughter, but . . . I guess they’re just nice people.
“Ah, great then. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself after work hours,” Samantha chirps with a pleasant smile. “Julia, this is Daniel and Dylan.” She points to Daniel first. He’s on the younger side, like Samantha. I figure they’re both in their mid-thirties. He’s tall, with dark hair and dark eyes, and has a look of business written across his face. His smile is welcoming, but his perfectly pressed slacks and starched shirt feel mildly intimidating. Then there’s Dylan. He’s slouched on the couch with an iPod clutched between his hands and a set of eyes that look as if they’re frozen wide open. He has the little surfer dude look going on with his long board shorts, flip flops, and long, spiky light hair.
The Man Cave Collection: Manservant, Man Flu, Man Handler, and Man Buns Page 8
