Eversea: A Love Story

by Natasha Boyd

  If I couldn’t handle these almost moments, then I decided I should just turn them into moments. If I was going down, I might as well go down hard. I stepped a little closer.

  Our bodies skimmed against each other, and the light contact created arcs of snapping current. I felt it from my head to my toes and everywhere between. Jack’s breathing turned irregular at my boldness, his expression unreadable, like he was trying hard not to react.

  My breasts, which now felt full and achy and unfamiliar, pressed against his chest, and I raised my face to his. “I don’t want to tell you no.” My admission hung in the air, accompanied by the steady thunk, thunk, thunk of my wet clothes tossing in the drum behind him, lending a throbbing cadence to the already heavy atmosphere between us.

  His green eyes turned dark and hooded as he lowered his head. There was that smell of pine and waterfalls again, now mixed with salty southern sea air.

  His face was inches from mine, and a flush crossed his cheekbones. “So tell me yes,” he whispered, his warm breath fanning across my mouth. Then his hands were at my sides, his searing fingers curling into my hips and pressing me hard against his body. As I felt how turned on he was, arousal flared through me, making me feel light-headed. I gulped nervously, but steeled my resolve.

  It was just a kiss. That was all I wanted. I don’t know how I knew Jack would never push me beyond what I was ready for, but I did. And what I was ready for was his mouth on mine.

  “Yes,” I said, simply.

  I could almost see his pupils dilate. One of his hands came up and curled into my hair at my nape, tugging my head back. He hesitated just once, and then his mouth—his warm, delicious mouth—covered mine.

  His lips were amazing—hard and soft at the same time. They coaxed and moved over mine until I let out a small sigh—relief of finally having his lips on me. It was like finding water at the end of a long, hot trek. His unshaven jaw was rough and exquisite on my skin and all I could think, as I clutched his shoulders and wound a hand up into his soft, damp, hair, our lips moving together, was that I wanted more. I wanted to taste more. I needed more of him. More. More.

  Tendrils of warmth ignited through me. We both moved at the same time, and my hand tightened on his neck as he pulled me harder against him. And then his tongue slid into my mouth. I whimpered as the soft warmth burst into a flare of searing heat deep inside me.

  He tasted of salt and coffee and mint.

  He tasted of Jack.

  My tongue returned his thrust as I became parched and desperate for him. My reaction caused a low rumble through Jack’s chest. I had no idea it could feel this way. Even my skin was on fire, like every nerve in my body could feel what he was doing to me with his mouth. I wanted to do this forever.

  Suddenly, I found myself turned and pressed back against the dryer, and then Jack was lifting me and stepping between my legs.

  “Cold!” I gasped against his mouth as the icy metal of the appliance met the heat of my thighs.

  Jack chuckled. “Sorry.” And then the heat of his kiss took over again.

  After a few drugging and decadent moments, his mouth moved away from mine and slid to my throat and up to my ear, his hot breath and moist lips causing me to shudder.

  My hands roamed over the smooth skin of his back. I was completely lost. His mouth came back and captured mine again. In my new position, I pressed myself even more firmly against his body, straining to ease the aching void that had somehow sprung up inside me, causing him to make a small sound in the back of his throat.

  All I wanted was Jack.

  He must have had a moment of rational thought, because he gave me one last drugging kiss and pulled his mouth from mine, putting a small piece of space between our bodies. His ragged breathing mingled with my own, and he dropped his forehead against mine.

  My mouth reached for his again of it’s own volition.

  He nipped at my lips and backed away again, his face flushed, his eyes dark and glazed.

  “God,” he said, between breaths. “If that’s what you kiss like with no experience ... ”

  I smiled and threaded one hand through his gorgeous soft hair. He pressed his mouth into the crook of my neck as I tipped my head back, and I couldn’t help moan as his teeth nipped and sucked at my skin. I rocked against him again. His erection, rather than making me nervous, ignited some primal part of my womanhood. Could it really be me that made him feel this way?

  His voice breathed into my neck. “You have to stop, we have to stop ... or I won’t be able to.”

  What was I doing? I couldn’t believe I could lose complete control this fast. I didn’t want to stop. It was wanton, as my Nana would say. My God, he was right. We had to stop. I couldn’t believe I had let a simple kiss get so out of hand. I was terrified to realize that if Jack hadn’t stopped, I would have let him take my virginity right there in the laundry room. In fact, I’d never wanted anything more. He stepped back, and we both struggled to get our breathing under control. The more we settled back to earth, the more horrified I was at my behavior.

  “I’m sorry,” I muttered, a little mortified by the way I had thrown myself at him.

  He smiled, but his brow furrowed. “What for?”

  “I can’t believe I just did that, and that I ... let it ... get so ... um ...”

  “Out of control? Well, there were two of us there, sweetheart.”

  “Don’t call me that. It makes me feel young ... and naïve.”

  “Well, you are young. But after that kiss, I wouldn’t call you naïve.” He chuckled.

  I pressed my lips together in indignation and punched him right on his tattoo.

  He laughed louder. “You’re cute.”

  “Stop it. I’m not cute.”

  “Okay.” He reached out and brushed a piece of hair off my cheek. Even that sweet simple gesture had me sizzling.

  “I’ve just ... uh ... I’ve never felt anything like that before,” I offered, honestly.

  He sighed. “Me either, Keri Ann. So I guess that makes two of us.”

  S I X T E E N

  I couldn’t remember the last time I had spent a day not working on something to do with the house. At about two o’clock —exactly two hours and fifteen minutes after Jack and I had kissed in the laundry room—I was clutching my sides with laughter at stories he was telling me about some of his first auditions. He had almost landed on the proverbial ‘casting couch’ and also once mistakenly ended up at a porn movie audition.

  We were lying on the sun loungers by the pool, and periodically we would trade quotes from The Princess Bride trying to one up each other. I was taking my cover up off when he quoted that there was “a shortage of perfect breasts in the world”. That shut me up. I wasn’t going to win that one.

  I was getting a very tanned front because I was too nervous to ask Jack to put sunscreen on my back. Despite that, I couldn’t believe how comfortable I suddenly was with him. I still felt like I was plugged into an electrical outlet in the sense that my nerves were aware of him at any given moment, but somehow having kissed him, and even though I wanted to do it again, as soon as possible, I felt like a small pressure valve had been tapped. Slightly.

  “So why doesn’t Keri Ann Butler have a boyfriend?” Jack’s sudden question caught me by surprise. I looked over at him. He looked genuinely interested.

  “Who’s to say she doesn’t?” I threw back at him, to cover my nerves.

  “Your history of kissing, or lack thereof, for one.”

  “Maybe I just have a hand-holding boyfriend.” I smirked.

  “Sweetheart, I’m not sure what kind of men they make around here, but they’d have to be made of stone to settle for just holding your hand.” My insides flipped. He continued, “So do you?”

  “Do I what?”

  “Have a hand-holding boyfriend?”

  “No.” I sighed. “I haven’t been that interested in anyone. Plus no one’s really asked, but that could also be because I have a protectiv
e older brother who I recently found out threatened anyone who might.”

  “Seriously? Wow, what did he say when you told him about me?”

  “He said, ‘Be careful.’ He could have been referring to me, or in fact, you.” I grinned.

  Jack laughed, and then reached out and took my hand. It shocked me into silence. I looked at him.

  He just closed his eyes, a dimple still showing, and turned his face back up to the sun.

  I swallowed the large lump in my throat. What was he doing?

  “So why did you want to act?” I asked to cover my reaction to his gesture. I was sure this was a classic interview question, but I was curious, and the silence was way too heavy with my hand in his.

  He looked at me like it was the first time it had been asked.

  “What?” I said, defensively. “And no, I don’t already know the answer to that question either.”

  “It’s not that.” He shook his head. “I’ve never answered it honestly.”

  “Really? Why?”

  Jack let go of my hand abruptly, got up from the lounger, and stepped off the edge of the pool into the deep end. I flexed my hand, missing him terribly already. He propped himself up on his elbows as he seemed to consider my question.

  “It’s just that I don’t want other people to be bothered. It’s the same reason I keep my mum out of the spotlight. They—other people in my life—didn’t make a decision to become a public figure like I did. Not that I really thought about becoming this famous when I started out. I just wanted to act. I loved it. I love it,” he corrected.

  I nodded. It made sense to me. I actually found it kind of honorable that he would try to keep the insanity of his life away from others he cared about.

  “So who are the others, apart from your mom?”

  “Well, to answer your first question, the person who totally inspired me to pursue this, probably more than I realized at the time, was the headmaster at the school I was at in England. I guess you call them principals here.” He ran a hand idly across the surface of the water. “But Mr. Chaplin was the headmaster at the boarding school I was at. He taught math—or ‘maths’ as we called it—and he also put on these elaborate productions at school that people had to audition for and rehearse for months. We would perform six or seven times for all the parents who wanted to see it at the end of the year. It was usually sold out. They were musicals, mostly.” He grinned at my raised eyebrows. “Yeah, I can sing.”

  “Wait, you used to sing in musicals? How come the tabloids haven’t tracked down any of those pictures? Or maybe they have ... Jazz would know.”

  “Why would Jazz know?”

  “Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you. She is your biggest fan. She almost fainted when she found out about you this morning.”

  A shadow passed over his face again.

  I rolled my eyes. “Seriously, you don’t know her, but trust me, she’s been my best friend since almost the first day I moved here, she’ll keep it to herself. Besides,” I added, “if she tells anyone, she’ll have to share you.” I suddenly remembered Jazz was going to come looking for me at my place that afternoon. “On that note, I told her she could meet you, is that okay?”

  He slunk down and dunked his head under the surface. When he popped back up, with water streaming down his face and body, I had to quickly look away before I embarrassed myself by drooling or something. He flicked the water from his dark, glossy hair with a quick shake of his head and leaned forward on his forearms again.

  “Uh, yeah, I guess so.” He fixed me with a dark look. “But that means I have to share you. That’s not fair.”

  Wow. I gulped.

  “Do you know how many times a day you blush?” His dimple made an appearance.

  I ducked my head in mock chagrin. “Yes,” I mumbled, but I couldn’t help returning his smile. “I can feel it.”

  “It’s sexy as hell.”

  “Uh ... um,” I stuttered, my cheeks even warmer. “Thank you? I think?”

  He shrugged, like it was no big deal. Inside, I was dancing.

  “Sooo back to the topic at hand,” I said, when my voice was steady. “You ... you sang in musicals? I’m not sure I can picture that.”

  “Yeah, well, I wasn’t some flamboyant Broadway wannabe. I was shy and young. Mr. Chaplin was always trying to build confidence in kids, not that I recognized that at the time. He was so passionate about getting the kids you least expected and putting them in these parts that built character and confidence and respect from our classmates. I look back on that and realize what he did for me. In fact, what that school in general did for me.”

  “Wait,” I said, doing the math and watching Jack carefully. “You said you left England when you were nine, so how come you were in boarding school at such a young age? How long were you there?”

  Who put their kids in a boarding school in second or third grade ... or younger? My heart squeezed. There was such a slight tightening of his jaw I almost missed it.

  He left the wall and stretched his body back doing a couple of strokes into the middle of the pool. “Oh well, it was just what some people did in England back then, and I wanted to go. We had some family friends whose son was there and loved it. He raved about it one summer, and I begged to go.” He shrugged as if that’s all there was to it and slipped under the water again. Something didn’t ring true about that last part, but I decided to let it go.

  I waited until he emerged and circled back away from that line of questioning. “So, this principal of yours, Mr. Chaplin, must be proud of you. Does he know how much he inspired you?”

  What an amazing gift to give a teacher, to know how you changed a kid’s life, and even more that the child had grown up to become world famous. I shook my head with wonder. I couldn’t remember any teacher having such an impact on me, although I’d liked my English and art teacher in high school. But it was mostly Nana who had inspired my love for the written word and allowed my creativity to flourish. She and I, with all of the art projects we would work on all summer long, and look what I’d done with it ... a big fat nothing. Yet. My heart squeezed as I thought of Nana. I missed her so much. I wondered what she would think of Jack. If she would approve.

  “Mr. Chaplin, as far as I know, has no idea.”

  “He must know, I mean surely you are as famous over there as you are here.” In fact, the Erath saga was a global phenomenon. There was no way he wasn’t recognized the world over.

  I was obviously straying into dangerous territory again. I hadn’t meant to. Jack turned without answering and broke into a powerful stroke. Though we’d only known each other a few days, I was already picking up cues for when he was uncomfortable. When he turned at the other end, I quickly moved to the edge of the pool where he was headed and slipped my feet into the water.

  “I’m sorry,” I said as he came up in front of me. “It’s none of my business. I’m not trying to pry, I was just curious about you. What makes you ... you. But, as I said, it’s none of my business. I’ll stop.” I smiled. “Sooo, how about this fall weather we’re having? Hmm?” I waggled my eyebrows trying to lighten the mood.

  “Yeah,” he said, going along with it for a moment. “Gorgeous.”

  I waited. He seemed like he might say more.

  He did. “My life in England is not something I talk about. Ever. I’m sorry. I will tell you, though,” he took a deep breath and looked up at me, “that the reason Mr. Chaplin doesn’t know who I am is because I wasn’t Jack Eversea back then. My mother and I changed our names when we came here. In fact, she doesn’t go by Eversea anymore either since she remarried. So, for the most part, no one bothers her, which is how we both like it.”

  My vivid imagination could only grapple with the kind of reasons a mother would first put her young child in a boarding school, and then flee to another country and change their names. My stomach churned at his words, and my heart hurt. He must have seen my reaction, because he came forward and put a hand on each knee. My pulse spe
d up.

  “Don’t, Keri Ann. Don’t feel sorry for me. It’s not something I want to talk about, but suffice it to say that for some reason, you know more than anyone. It’s not that bad. If it was, I would never have put myself in such a public position.” I wanted to feel warm and fuzzy that he had confided in me just a little, but knowing the little bit was torture. “Okay?” he asked.

  “I wish you hadn’t told me anything,” I said quietly. I saw a flash of something in his eyes, and just as quickly, it was gone. I realized my words could have sounded callous, I hadn’t meant them that way.

  “Me too.” He made to move away, but I grabbed his arm.

  “Wait,” I said, in case he had been about to shut me out, or swim away. “That didn’t come out right. I didn’t mean you couldn’t tell me, or that I ... well ... ”

  He shook his head. “It’s fine, Keri Ann.”

  “It’s not fine. I just want you to know, I wished you hadn’t told me because ... I care about you. I’m not pitying you, I care about you.” I paused. I really did care about him—as crazy as that could be after only knowing someone a few days. And I didn’t mean in the way you care about another human, just because you’re human. But I’d keep that tidbit to myself until my grave.

  I decided to forge ahead. “When you care about someone, you don’t like to think of them hurting whether now or way in the past. Especially when you can’t fix it. That’s all I meant by saying that. In reality, I want to know everything about you, but I understand your boundaries.” I took a deep breath and shrugged. “I have them, too.”

  He didn’t say anything for a moment, and then suddenly I was squealing as he grabbed my waist and pulled me down into the water with a huge ungraceful splash. As soon as I surfaced, I smacked a wave of water at his face. This was a skill I had perfected defending myself from an older brother.

  “Hey,” he yelled and returned the gesture. I quickly slid down under the water and swam away.

  When I popped up at the other end of the pool laughing, Jack was still where I’d left him leaning against the wall watching me. Even without the safety of my sunglasses on, I was unable to hide the fact my eyes wanted to take in every mound, curve, and ridge of his muscled body. It was truly a work of art. It wasn’t that steroid-fueled over-worked body builder type, but he was tall and obviously packed with strength. I swallowed my nerves as I let my eyes slide down his abs to the vee his hips made as they disappeared into his shorts.