Eversea: A Love Story

by Natasha Boyd

  T W E N T Y – T H R E E

  Jack took the stairs two at a time in the dark. I saw Joey’s door was safely closed. I didn’t ask how he knew where my bedroom was first try. He had been in my house alone for several days.

  Luckily, I’d lit a candle in a hurricane jar next to my bed after the power first went out. I ducked my head into his neck and inhaled the scent that was fast becoming my all time favorite as he entered my room and headed straight for the bed. I had never really felt dainty before, or wanted to for that matter, but being held in Jack’s strong arms as he effortlessly moved about holding me, was a novel and not unwelcome feeling.

  “Man, you have a lot of books,” he said, depositing me on my bed.

  “I like to read.” I shrugged and nonchalantly grabbed the fourteen books caught up in my bedclothes and put them on the chest of drawers that doubled as another bedside table.

  “Me too, actually. I get it. Can I borrow the light to go to the bathroom?”

  I handed him the hurricane jar and told him where the spare toothbrushes were, and then lay back in the dark room. The thought of sleeping next to him all night roused all those damn butterflies inside me. I wondered if I’d be able to sleep at all.

  He came back, handed me the lamp, and I quickly went to the bathroom to brush my teeth. Catching sight of myself, I did a double take and groaned. Damn. My hair had started drying and coming out of its pony. I looked horrific with wisps and kinks and teased pieces all over the place. I quickly pulled it loose and ran a comb through it. Since it was still damp, I’d probably look like a witch by morning. I quickly braided it to minimize the damage, brushed my teeth, and walked back to the bedroom.

  Jack was lying under my comforter on his back with his eyes closed and his head cradled on his arms. I paused a moment to mentally capture the picture of Jack in my bed. It really didn’t compute. He opened an eye.

  “What?”

  I lifted a shoulder. “Just looking at you.”

  “And what do you see?”

  “A gorgeous man in my bed,” I said simply. That didn’t begin to cover it.

  He reached over and flipped back the cover for me. “You see a lucky guy who gets to share a bed with a gorgeous girl.”

  I scoffed lightly. “Right. Plain girl next door is more like it.” I climbed into the bed, keeping a few inches between us and rolled to face him.

  He frowned at me. “You are more beautiful with your bare makeup-free face than most of the girls I know after four hours in the hair and makeup trailer.”

  I didn’t say anything for a few moments. Finally, I managed a small thank you. Jack responded by reaching an arm out and dragging me to him, turning me, and pressing my back against his chest. He curled his muscled arm over my waist. I snuggled into the curve but stiffened when I felt his erection pressing against me. I bit my lip against the urge to turn in his arms and finish what we’d started earlier.

  “Just ignore it. I am,” came his muffled voice in my hair. “Night, Keri Ann.” Then he inhaled deeply and kissed my shoulder. I sighed and closed my eyes, trying very hard to comply.

  * * *

  Sometime in the night I woke up utterly aroused and with Jack completely wrapped around me. My head was on his one arm, and his other was across my midsection. I listened for his breathing in the dark, expecting to hear the deep and steady rhythm that would tell me he was sleeping.

  Then I felt the soft rhythmic caress of his thumb on my belly where my t-shirt had ridden up. That must have been what had gotten me hot and bothered and awake. I waited, willing him to continue. His body was hot at my back and one of his legs was hooked between mine, and then I felt his breath at my neck before he touched his lips to my skin.

  I sighed, and with sleepiness making my inhibitions less bossy, gently moved his hand further up inside my shirt to cradle my breast.

  He tensed for a moment before his thumb continued its movements, this time skimming across my taut nipple.

  I bit my lip and involuntarily arched slightly into his hand as he hissed out a breath and pressed his hard arousal against my bottom, hitching his leg further up between mine.

  His breathing was hot and heavy against my neck, matching my own, and I rocked against him as the deep throbbing inside me picked back up from earlier as if it would never be satisfied. He groaned, and his arms tightened around me and pressed me down against his leg.

  An unrecognizable sound of pure need and lust escaped me. Why did I have to wear pajama bottoms and a t-shirt? Why wasn’t I wearing some cute little spaghetti strap night-shirt with no panties? Before I could talk myself out of it, I untangled myself from Jack’s leg to push down my pajama bottoms. There was just something about being in a dark room, and being in a drowsy state, that made all my inhibitions and nerves fade away.

  “Stop, Keri Ann. Please,” Jack whispered against my ear and stilled my hands.

  It was like a bucket of cold water. I was instantly mortified.

  “I want you too much. You have no idea.” He squeezed me and kissed my shoulder.

  I wasn’t sure how to respond. His words were a soothing balm for my pride, but I still felt like a heel. Self-doubt crept in and left a heavy calling card in my heart, and I cringed at myself in the dark. Nice one, Keri Ann ... you offer to get naked for a guy, and he turns you down, with an ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ line.

  He rolled me over and kissed me softly on the lips before moving a little distance away. Although he still kept an arm across me, I felt bereft. I swallowed the lump in my throat, and thought about counting sheep.

  T W E N T Y – F O U R

  I woke up with a pounding headache left over from tequila and sugar. “Ow,” I croaked and clutched my head. Water, I needed water. It was morning, but barely. Jack! It suddenly all came back to me.

  “You okay?” came Jack’s voice from the foot of the bed. I opened my eyes to find him sitting with his elbows resting on his parted knees, watching me.

  He was still in just his boxers. He stood up and left the room. I heard the water running in the bathroom and the medicine cabinet open and close. He came back with a glass of water and two aspirin.

  I accepted them gratefully and shifted up onto an elbow. “Thanks.”

  “No problem.”

  My cheeks burned as a collage of images of us in front of the fireplace downstairs fluttered through my head. Of course that was followed by the memory of my blatant invitation to him during the night that he flatly turned down.

  I couldn’t get a gauge on what he was thinking. He had come over last night to say getting involved with me was a mistake, I reminded myself. I swallowed the pills and water down nervously and decided on diversion as the best tactic. “Do I snore or something?” I asked.

  “What?” His eyes widened a moment, then he broke into a laugh and shook his head slowly. “No.”

  When he didn’t say anything else, I got up and walked past him to the bathroom to freshen up. Joey’s door was open so I guessed Jazz had gone home early. She probably felt about as bad as I did. Jack hadn’t moved when I got back. I stood uncertainly for a moment, and then got back into the warmth of the bed.

  He didn’t follow me, but stood and walked around the room looking at all my pictures and shelves crammed with books and frames and keepsakes, stopping at a few and commenting here and there. I watched his muscled frame with the snug black boxer briefs hugging his butt. That was a hangover cure right there, but the bundle of dread inside me, waiting for him to say what was on his mind, kept it in check.

  “Pride and Prejudice and Twilight are next to each other?” he asked, looking at my bookshelf. “I’m assuming you don’t have any kind of system?”

  “Actually, I do. I keep books in the order I read them.” I could map the timeline of my life by the order in which my books were kept.

  “Seriously?” He looked back at them. I was waiting for some smart-ass comment about how or why I had gone from Jane Austen to Twilight. Not that I saw muc
h difference between the yearning of a young girl for a seemingly unattainable guy in either story.

  The irony of my current situation wasn’t lost on me.

  “So what period am I in right now?”

  “Oh, um ... ” It was the summer my parents died, but I didn’t want to bring the mood down. “Summer before my freshman year at Butler Cove High.”

  “Did you like the Jane Austen?”

  “I thought the poor girl, rich guy thing would seem ... trite, but then I read it and ... well, it was good.”

  He nodded. “It was.”

  Of course he’d read it. Why not? My perfect guy was also a bookworm.

  “Slave Species of God? I didn’t know anyone else had read this?”

  “You’ve read it?”

  “Yep. Totally changed—”

  “Every history class you were ever taught?”

  “Yeah.” He laughed and moved on.

  “See any you haven’t read?”

  “Plenty. I don’t do bodice ripping romances ... sorry.”

  “Don’t knock it ’til you try it.”

  “Don’t tempt me.” He winked over his shoulder.

  I breathed a small internal sigh of relief at his implication, but I still felt like I was missing something.

  He moved on to several framed pictures I had. One was of Joey and me taken a few summers ago in a two-man kayak. One was of us with my parents sitting on the front porch steps around the time when we first moved here. I was about 10 years old, bracketed by my mom and dad, my hair an unruly riot of brown curls. I was wearing jeans and a white t-shirt that had a huge Hello Kitty on the front, and I was smiling a huge smile with teeth too big for my face. Joey stood tall and sullen on the other side of my father with a Tarheels basketball vest on.

  “You haven’t changed much,” Jack commented with an amused tone. I threw one of my small toss pillows at him. He smirked. “Are these your parents?”

  I nodded. My mom with her bare face, long straight brown hair and light yellow sundress was beautiful despite her tight smile in the picture. My father had curling light brown hair and wore a completely straight face, neither smiling nor frowning. I often stared at that picture wondering what was going on in their heads, wishing I could remember anything that would give me a clue about what they were thinking that day ... or any day. Were they happy to have moved here or was it a burden? Perhaps they’d had no other choice.

  “That was taken right when we moved here.”

  “Where did you move from?”

  “All over. My parents traveled a lot. My father always had some kind of business that needed tending to, and we would move. The last place I remember was North Carolina, but Butler Cove is the longest I’ve stayed anywhere. And I lived here every summer with Nana, so this felt like home anyway.”

  “What did he do, your father?” It was a natural question, based on the information I had provided. I hated this topic.

  “He was in sales with a company in Savannah. Let’s talk about something else.” He was always selling something, always doing a deal, always about to make it ... this time. Always up and down.

  “A bit young for prom.” He was looking at the picture Nana had taken of Joey, Colton Graves, Jazz and me.

  “That was Joey’s prom. He invited Jazz and me. That’s his friend Colton Graves, Colt. They played football together.”

  He nodded and moved along a bit. “Time frame?”

  “The books? Eighth grade.”

  He pulled out Book One of the Warriors of Erath series. “You read this way before the movies then ...” he mused, like that satisfied him for some reason. “A bit young for this weren’t you?”

  “I read it in secret, at least from my mother,” I said with a sly grin.

  “Really? How did you get away with that? A flashlight under the covers?” Jack left the shelves and started back toward me.

  “I have a secret reading nook in the attic.”

  “Really?” he asked, climbing onto the bed. “Can I see it sometime? Are boys allowed?”

  “Sure.” I laughed. “It’s a bit dusty and overdue for a makeover though. I went up there yesterday afternoon. To think.”

  He pressed me back and lay down by my side, his head propped on his hand. “What were you thinking?”

  “That I’d never forget your kisses,” I said honestly.

  “I’m afraid to ask, given your headache this morning, but do you remember last night?”

  Heat bloomed in my cheeks. Looking at his expression, I realized he may think he had taken advantage of me. It was no secret I’d been a bit intoxicated when I made that phone call.

  “Every single thing,” I whispered. My eyes flicked down to his lips as I thought about kissing him again. Then I remembered his original reason for coming over. “Do you regret last night?” I asked. Please, please say no.

  “What? No. What makes you think that?”

  “You came over to tell me it had been a mistake to get involved with me ... and then during the night...” I trailed off.

  “No, that’s not what I meant by that... I mean it was, but not in the way you mean. I was trying to explain that I can’t stay away from you, no matter what all the reasons are or should be.”

  I took a deep breath. “So don’t.”

  “I can’t.” He ran a hand down the side of my face. My heart fluttered with hope.

  Ugh, I was so easy.

  I wanted to ask about Audrey. But I was too afraid of the answer. Jack had asked me to take a chance on him last night, and by my actions I had agreed to it. I needed to trust him. I would ask about her, I promised myself, but I didn’t want to do it just yet.

  Then he said, “I told Audrey I’d met someone.”

  I swallowed down the ridiculous wave of joy that had suddenly ballooned in my chest. “Really?” I managed as smoothly as I could.

  “Really,” he whispered, leaning forward to kiss me. I was glad I had gone and brushed my teeth. His lips moved softly over mine. It felt good.

  He pulled away and looked serious. “A couple more things we need to talk about. Firstly, your phone call last night.” He cocked an eyebrow at me.

  Oh that. I covered my eyes in mortification. He gently peeled my hand off. “You asked me what it was all about. I didn’t mean to lead you on, I couldn’t help it, and it was two sided, wasn’t it?”

  I nodded.

  He went on, “And I would never do something for you in the hopes you would feel indebted to me and sleep with me. I felt sick when you said that.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be, I know you were mad and upset. I just ... I need you to know ... I find you sexy as hell.” He kissed my hand softly. “And while most of the time I am so turned on around you I literally can’t think of anything else apart from what it would feel like to be buried inside you—”

  I gasped, but he went on as if he hadn’t just shocked the hell out of me. “I am not going to do it. I don’t want you to ever regret anything that happens between us.”

  I had grown hot, achy, and slightly breathless at his bold words, and now he was saying it was never going to happen.

  I squeezed my thighs together and squirmed under the comforter. “Ever?”

  “Shit, Keri Ann, you’d test a saint. I’m trying here.”

  “I just want to understand. You want to sleep with me, but you refuse to. Even if I decide that’s what I want.”

  He nodded.

  “Seriously?” I asked.

  When he didn’t say anything, I continued skeptically, “Is this some kind of reverse psychology?”

  “No.” He laughed. “I just know I’m going to have to leave here soon, and it’s going to be hard enough to do that already.” The reminder he was definitely leaving, no matter what happened between us, flipped my stomach over. And not in a good way.

  But he was right, I had admitted to myself last night that taking that step with him would seal him in my heart and mind forever. For a momen
t I wished I had gotten my virginity out of the way years ago, in case he was worried about leaving a broken hearted girl behind. Did he think I was a walking cliché; that as soon as he took my virginity, I’d expect marriage and babies? No, this was about me wanting to be with Jack specifically. In a way I had never ever wanted to be with anyone else.

  “Why are we talking about this?” I asked, irritated at the turn of my thoughts.

  “I just don’t want you thinking that’s all I want from you. I never want you to look back and think you might have been pressured.”

  “I’m a big girl, Jack. I think I can handle myself.”

  “I’m sure you can,” he winked, ”and also, I plan on persuading you to accept my gift of getting the floors finished, and I don’t want you thinking I’m doing it for any other reason than if you refuse, I’m going to be left with this huge annoying credit at a flooring company, of all things, and nothing to spend it on.”

  I snorted. “So it would be me doing you a favor? Nice try.” I rolled my eyes. “No. And I wouldn’t think that, I was just mad when I called you last night.”

  “I wanted to do something for you. I don’t know why, I just did. Maybe it was that for a second I got really excited about the project, and I had the means to get it done, so I did it. Or maybe it was that I was looking forward to seeing your face when something you had wanted to get done for so long was finally achieved.”

  This was quite persuasive, I had to admit.

  “Or maybe it was because I imagined that when I saw your face light up, I wanted it to be me who made it happen.”

  Damn, this guy was good.

  “No,” I said again, but I sounded as shaken as I felt. I hadn’t realized flooring could be so romantic. “I should have told you my face lights up over a bag of Lindor truffles. You could have saved yourself a fortune.”

  He got a wicked gleam in his eye and his lips descended to mine. “I did say I was going to persuade you.”

  T W E N T Y – F I V E

  The rain had broken the stifling humidity, and while it was still warm, it was finally that perfect time of year. The time anyone who lives in the South dreams about all summer long with its bright sun and long shadows and a slight chill in the breeze.