by Mary Strand
“A baby!” I couldn’t resist throwing in the dig, even though Mom left her chair and stood in front of me, hands on her hips, ready to slug me.
I winked at Mom as she shook a finger at me. It disarmed her, amazingly enough, and luckily Mom doesn’t hold a grudge. Usually. Within a few minutes, Dad and Bill pulled out the cribbage board and settled in for a game. One by one, the rest of us made our escape.
As I headed upstairs, though, I wondered how long our escape from Wild Bill Cooper would be.
Wild Bill stayed with us. And stayed. It felt like months, even if we were only two days into it.
He went to Dad’s yoga center every morning, and every evening he blathered nonstop about himself. I called it Everything You Never Wanted to Know and Never Asked, but he tended to shy away from details. He seemed pretty focused on worming his way into Dad’s yoga center and slobbering all over Dad’s daughters.
I hoped I wouldn’t have to get rabies shots.
Ever since late afternoon today, when Jane and I dragged ourselves home from school, he’d been staring at Jane with a goofy grin on his face. When Jane finally got up and left the living room, Bill pulled a chair close to Mom’s and whispered something to her.
She practically jumped in her seat. “Jane? Er, well, I’m sorry, but she’s far too old for you.”
As in, a year too old? I snorted. “Not to mention she’s dating Charlie.”
Mom frowned at me over her reading glasses. “Jane is not dating Charlie. I told her not to.”
Jane was probably in the hall, trying not to pee in her pants, and Mom’s comment didn’t exactly bring her back to the living room. Whatever. If living in a world of delusion made Mom happier, I figured that was her issue as long as she didn’t volunteer me for Bill’s girl-of-the-week club.
Suddenly, Bill leaped up and landed on the couch next to me. Crap. He must’ve studied his other victims and chose me over three complete twits, but even the stupidest guy in the world would do that.
I don’t know why that made me think of Alex.
I sprang off the couch, flinging a pillow at his face, just as Mom mentioned she’d planned to make hockey pucks—er, hamburgers—for dinner. Unfortunately, even Bill had learned enough in forty-eight hours to know when to vacate the house, and he joined the mad rush of people racing to make excuses to Mom and throw on coats.
Jane reappeared and Mary claimed she had to study, so five of us squeezed into the Jeep. I drove up and down a million streets, since no one could agree on fast food we all liked, but we weren’t going to wind up at a circus tent. Despite Lydia. Every time she saw another circus performer on the street, she punched my shoulder until I slammed on the brakes.
Suddenly she screamed in my ear and grabbed my shoulders, slamming me against the steering wheel. “Liz, stop! Isn’t that Rocco Molinari across the street? Who’s he with? Look at him, Cat. Isn’t he hot?”
I slowed to a stop even before I spotted the guy Lydia was pointing at. Dark, curly hair, slim, athletic. Mmmm. Almost made me want to run away with the circus.
Lydia and Cat flung open the back doors of the Jeep and flew across the street. So much for subtle. I glanced at Jane, who shrugged, so she and Bill and I joined the group on the sidewalk. Lydia and Cat were chatting up Rocco, who introduced himself and his friend, Justin Truesdale. Definitely hot.
Justin told us he’d just joined the circus troupe yesterday after leaving one on the West Coast last week. Right in front of him, Lydia and Cat went nuts about the circus getting such a great guy. I didn’t nod or act like a dipwad, but I had to agree. It didn’t hurt that Justin kept glancing at me, totally checking me out and not Jane. When it came to guys, that had to be a first.
Before I could actually talk to him, though, Rocco claimed they had to go somewhere else. Great. We lost two cute guys and kept Wild Bill. Talk about a letdown.
The rest of the evening passed in a blur of pizza and circus gossip. Even though I swear I didn’t gush over Justin—or not much, anyway—for once in my life, I listened as Lydia and Cat brainstormed crazy ways to try to meet up with Justin again. Maybe with some other circus guys. Maybe over dinner, but not at our house. Ew.
Justin Truesdale. Wow. Why should I spend my time worrying about Jane and Charlie when a guy like this was in town?
Wednesday night, Mom and Dad had to go to some legal shindig in St. Paul, so Lydia called Rocco and told him to bring Justin to our house for takeout Chinese, but she didn’t do the math and invite enough circus guys to make the numbers even. I couldn’t help picturing how bored my sisters would be when Justin spent all evening with me, leaving them stuck with Wild Bill and, okay, Rocco.
Which was pretty much what happened.
Justin was every bit as hot as I remembered, even better without a heavy jacket. Slim hips and long legs and a cute butt, with a face that stopped short of being too pretty. Like Liam Hemsworth in The Hunger Games.We chatted and munched on eggrolls. Justin flirted with me, more and more, and I started to wonder how he kisses. My gaze kept straying to his lips, and— Yikes. He looked at mine!
We ate dinner in the kitchen, and Justin grabbed the chair next to me. I could swear his leg brushed against mine a few times, not accidentally, and then he started playing footsie. I didn’t know what to do, so I played footsie, too. Just to be polite, you know? Of course, right when I started to really get into it, I heard something disturbing.
Meow.
My head shot under the table. Sure enough, my sister Mary’s cat, Boris, was at my feet. Playing footsie, and apparently getting a big rush out of it.
Talk about embarrassment. Thank God Justin had no idea. But his hand crept under the napkin on my lap, pressed against my thigh, and stayed there. I tried not to faint.
God. I wasn’t that obvious, was I? Like Lydia? Across the table, Bill kept staring at me and making weird comments that included the word “Liz,” but I kept my eye on my plate. And on Justin. I have no idea what I ate for dinner.
Or if I ate.
After dinner, we headed to the living room. I sat on the couch next to Justin, but a moment later Lydia plopped down on the other side of him, practically on his lap, then started whispering and giggling in Justin’s ear. Pissed, I got up, ready to move to a new location and a new team. I mean, I’m not going to compete with Lydia, of all people. She’s a child. If a guy can’t see that, I don’t have time for him.
Next thing I knew, Lydia flew off Justin’s lap and landed on the floor. Smart boy, that Justin.
As Lydia rubbed her butt and slinked off to pester Rocco, I sat down again next to Justin. This time, a few inches farther away. I didn’t want to look easy, and I wasn’t sure I forgave him for letting Lydia hit on him.
He closed the gap between us with a quick scoot of his butt.
Okay. Fine. I gave in.
Justin draped his arm over the back of the couch, sending tingles down my spine, but the tingles stopped when he started talking. “So...Rocco says you know Charlie Bingham?”
He wanted to talk about Charlie? I shrugged, trying not to pout, then nodded at Jane, whose ears had pricked at the sound of Charlie’s name. “Jane knows him pretty well.”
“So I hear.” Justin grinned, cute dimples and all. “His computer games are amazing.”
“I guess.” Less amazing was that I had a hot guy on the couch next to me, and all he cared about was Charlie and his computer games. Story of my life. I sighed, my mind drifting to Alex. Was he the Darcy of The Book and my nightmares? Or was he just a guy named Darcy whose friend happened to be named Bingham, not Bingley? Since Alex hardly talked to me, let alone fondled my thigh during dinner, I wondered why I kept trying so hard to fight fate.
Alex was too busy being groped by Stephanie to even think about fate.
Trying to distract myself from stupid thoughts about Alex, I moved closer to Justin, but I suddenly realized I was pressed against him. In the gauzy yellow top I’d worn tonight, my boobs were a bit more noticeable than usua
l.
Justin glanced down at them. Yep, he definitely noticed.
Closing my eyes, I reminded myself I wasn’t easy. Okay, I’d been the one who picked out the top and the sheer cotton bra to wear under it. In November. But still.
I opened my eyes to find Justin grinning. His eyebrows danced. “Hey. I’m not complaining.”
“I’ll bet.” After a moment, I laughed too. I mean, Justin was cute and didn’t exactly mind looking at me. Give the guy a few points for honesty—and, well, interest.
He touched my hand. Lightly. Sweetly. “I’m also not complaining about meeting you.”
I tried not to blush as I scrounged for a safer topic of conversation. I didn’t think he’d want to talk about Liam Hemsworth all night.
“Do you like working in the circus?” Even as I said it, my nose twitched at the thought of Justin spending his life with the circus. Was it because of my disappointment with Dad’s midlife yoga crisis, or was I a snob?
Justin glanced at Rocco, who was across the room flirting with Lydia and Cat. “It works. For now.”
He smiled but didn’t exactly look happy. Why didn’t he do something else? Or go to college? I felt drawn to him, though, or maybe just to something wistful in his voice when he talked about the circus, which might be why I moved closer. At this point, I was practically on his lap, which wasn’t like me. Especially not in front of a crowd.
Justin started playing with my fingers. When he gazed into my eyes, I could barely hear what he said, what with my heart pounding so hard. “I’d really like to spend more time with you. Alone.”
As in, talking? Dating? Or something else? I tingled inside even as I wondered why everything was moving so fast. Still, Justin seemed sincere. He has the sort of face that just can’t lie. It’s that Liam Hemsworth thing. Liam wouldn’t lie to you.
Before I could say anything, the party started to break up. Justin helped me to my feet just as Wild Bill trotted across the room toward us. Talk about bad luck. Bill started flirting with me, even though I was obviously with Justin.
When Bill paused for a breath, Justin leaned close and whispered in my ear. “Am I keeping you from this guy?”
I whispered back, even though it was rude. “As if.”
Justin’s lips were touching my ear now. Talk about sexy. “So you’d like to be rescued?”
I brushed my own lips against the edge of Justin’s ear, feeling wicked. “Yesterday.”
He grabbed my elbow and led me away. Next thing I knew, he was dragging me toward the front hall closet, saying something out loud about grabbing his coat. He pulled me into the coat closet and ran his arms around my waist. In an instant, Justin’s lips were on mine, then on my neck. It felt...great.
Before I knew what was happening, his hands moved underneath my top, then—as I gasped—sneaked under my bra. I tried to ignore the warning bells that started clanging in my head. For once in my life, I didn’t want to think at all. As someone called my name, Justin’s hands kept moving until I felt a slight tug on the button of my jeans.
Oh. My. God. What was he doing? Here in a closet? When I barely knew him? Suddenly tense, I froze, then balled my hands into fists at my sides. Did I seem like the type of girl who would do it in a closet? Or anywhere with a guy I’d just met? Okay, so I’d stupidly gone into the closet with Justin, but it didn’t make me easy. Or desperate. The truth was, I wasn’t. Like, not at all. When his fingers touched the waistband on my undies, I pushed hard against his chest.
“No. I don’t—”
In an instant, he rebuttoned my jeans and his mouth planted a quick kiss on my lips.
Several voices were calling “Liz!” now. I had no idea how on earth I was going to get out of this closet without being skinned alive by my sisters, not to mention Wild Bill, whose voice seemed to be the loudest of all. But I was so rattled, I couldn’t think. “This was a really bad idea.”
Chuckling, Justin gave me a final squeeze. Then he grabbed his jacket, whispered “Trust me,” and tucked me behind my mom’s ancient full-length fur coat.
I heard the closet door shut, heard Justin tell someone I’d gone out the back door to the patio. A clatter of footsteps stampeded to the back of the house, and the sliding-glass door opened. I pushed aside Mom’s ratty old fur, checked my clothing, and slipped out of the closet to an empty hallway.
Justin. My savior. My...too-hot-to-handle new love?
Chapter 8
“Oh! no—it is not for me to be driven away by Mr. Darcy. If he wishes to avoid seeing me, he must go.”
— Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice, Volume I, Chapter Sixteen
I slept hard that night. Maybe my subconscious didn’t dare dream about Justin, on the chance that I’d go even farther with him in my sleep than I had in the closet. I woke up Thursday morning wondering what had possessed me—beyond Justin’s clever hands and lips, obviously—to make out with a guy I barely knew, twenty or thirty feet away from most of my family.
It wasn’t exactly my style.
I liked Justin. But I lay in bed in the cold light of day, torn between wondering what sex with Justin would be like—even though I’d never gone anywhere near that far with any other guy and wasn’t sure I wanted to go that far with Justin—and wanting to slap myself.
I split the difference. I woke up Jane.
She peered at the clock through a pried-open eyelid. “Six o’clock? Wha’ ya doin’, ’iz?”
She squeezed her eyes shut and rolled over on her side, taking her pillow with her. I kept tapping her shoulder blade.
“I know it’s early, but last night was like— And I really really have to talk.” I think I blurted that out in less than half a second.
She moaned. “Fine. But tell me. Is he a good kisser?”
“Jane!”
“I may as well live vicariously.” She blushed, which said it all.
“Charlie’s a nice guy. Despite his last name.”
Jane rolled her eyes. “And despite Alex’s last name. But Justin appears to be a bit wicked.”
After what he tried to do with me last night, maybe too wicked. For me. Still embarrassed, I tried to change the subject. “Justin was asking about Charlie. He’s a big fan of Charlie’s computer games.”
“Oh? Is that what you were doing in the closet? Talking about Charlie?”
My jaw dropped. “You—you knew?”
“My ears work just fine.” Jane shook her head. “I heard a few thumps and muffled something-or-others coming from the hallway, and I figured it out.” She laughed. “I saw Justin just as he climbed out of the closet, and I sent everyone outside the moment he thought up that line about you needing fresh air.”
“I like fresh air.”
“You like Justin better.” She patted the side of her bed, and I perched on it. “So tell me. Does he know Charlie?”
“Nope. He just seemed...impressed. I think he maybe wanted to meet him.”
Jane lifted one eyebrow, disbelief etched on her face. “Thank goodness you were there to answer his questions. In the closet.”
I swatted her.
She thought for a minute, her eyebrows knitted together. “How did you wind up in the closet?”
All the embarrassment I’d tried to bury flooded through me, and I stared at the far wall. “Believe it or not, we were trying to get away from Wild Bill.”
Jane laughed softly. “That I can believe.”
“And then—” I broke off, biting my lip, wondering how much to admit. As close as Jane and I were, we’d never actually talked about sex. As in, whether we’d ever gone that far with a guy. I think we both figured we’d admit it when it happened, so no news was...no news. “He kissed me. And stuff.”
She didn’t say a word. Or smirk or giggle or jab me in the side. Nothing. Finally, I looked down at Jane. Lying on her back again, she clutched her pillow to her chest and stared at the ceiling.
Despite a day packed with classes and the panic of a pop quiz in physics that I hadn
’t studied for, my stomach was still churning that afternoon as I rode home from school with Jane. On the spur of the moment, I asked her to drop me off at Rachel’s condo. I hadn’t seen Rachel in over a week—not even in Coffman Union, where I usually ran into her at lunchtime—and she didn’t seem to be checking voicemails. Or emails. Or the twenty text messages I’d sent her.
Jane dropped me off and pulled away from the curb, as if she were heading home, but I had a sneaking suspicion she’d just zip around the block and park in back of the condo building. For once, though, I didn’t say anything. After what I’d done with Justin last night, I couldn’t really complain about Jane hooking up with Charlie, could I?
I shook my head. I needed to talk to Rachel, even if she didn’t want to talk to me. Rachel was sane, sensible, and relatively immune to the charms of guys. Okay, maybe only because guys never paid much attention to her, but still. I could tell Rachel about Justin—except the part in the closet, since I already knew what she’d say—and get her advice. Like, was I being utterly stupid?
Maybe I could even talk to her about Charlie. And Alex. Rachel could explain why it didn’t matter if Jane liked a guy with the wrong last name who was pals with a guy with a really wrong last name. If Jane dated Charlie, maybe it wouldn’t wreck my plans to get an apartment with her. And maybe it wouldn’t force me to hook up with Alex.
Despite what Jane Austen said.
I unzipped my jacket in the warm lobby and rang the buzzer for Rachel’s condo. Twice. No answer. Ugh. I should’ve called first, but I’d already tried that a million times, hadn’t I?
As I turned to leave, I looked up at Alex, standing right behind me. I jumped.
He smiled at me. Tentatively. Like he didn’t know what might come out of my mouth. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself.” I bit my lip and looked down at the floor, which only made my gaze skim down his legs, which didn’t help. It wasn’t easy to think rotten thoughts about Alex while looking at him. That’s the problem with cute guys. They’re easier to avoid from a distance.
