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The Keeper

Page 2

by Jillian Liota


  The first thing I notice is his body, which is so unlike me, but how can it be helped when his arms are still wrapped around me. He’s firm and lean with broad shoulders. And he’s tall, maybe 6’2” or 3”. He has dark brown hair that’s just a little bit too long and curls slightly at the edges beneath his ears. His strong jaw is covered in stubble that makes me think it’s been a few days since he’s shaved. And his eyes. Damn. Warm, chocolate eyes peer into my soul with a look that is genuine and caring and I can’t look away.

  As cliche as it sounds, a girl could get lost in those eyes.

  “Oh sorry, Mack,” I hear from a snippy, feminine voice over my shoulder. “I didn’t realize you were with someone tonight.”

  The guy - Mack, apparently? - releases me as I turn towards the voice. But it seems like he still wants the buffer, as his arm repositions to wrap around my shoulders, tucking me into his side.

  A sexy referee is shooting daggers at me from down the hall, her arms crossed, plumping her amazing breasts up to the point that they’re nearly spilling out of her top. She’s pretty pissed, and the force of that rage is directed straight at me.

  Right. Because I’m to blame in this situation. It’s not like I was randomly grabbed by a stranger or anything.

  I’m normally not a troublemaker, but this girl looks exactly like Cassandra Roman, a bitch I went to high school with who slept with my boyfriend junior year. So I take the opportunity to get misplaced justice for the 16-year-old me.

  “Oh, it’s not just tonight,” I reply, leaning my head against Mack and running my hand up and down his chest. His very cut, muscular chest. I mean, come on… I can feel all six of his packs. “Although, he will be busy.” I’m trying to play sexy and hoping the unpracticed look on my face doesn’t come across as if I’ve recently had a mild stroke.

  Apparently it works, because the Cassandra look-alike huffs and stomps off, and I can’t help the shit-eating grin that covers my face or the happy dance in my head.

  “Well, that went better than expected,” Mack’s deep voice interrupts my mental high five.

  I quickly step out from my happy place nestled against his chest and under his arm, my face flushing warm and red as I realize how ridiculous the past thirty seconds was. I have a hard time looking up at him, but finally manage to drag my eyes away from the ground and give him a small smile.

  “Yeah, what was the deal with that?”

  Mack shrugs lazily, his eyes roaming my face as he leans nonchalantly against the wall.

  “I just met her and she’s been following me around like a blood hound for the past hour. I figured I needed a way to get her off my scent.”

  “So you were just waiting outside of the bathroom for an unsuspecting female to fill your fake girlfriend position?” I ask, my mouth tilting up at the side a little. “What if I had been a guy?”

  “Oh trust me, I would have been willing to come out of the closet to get away from that girl.” His face splits in a half smile so breathtaking I can’t help but smile back. “She showed me her nipple ring. Like, literally whipped her tits out for me. And then thought it would be seductive to point out the other guys here she’s slept with.”

  My face quickly scrunches up in disgust.

  “Wow that’s… like, really disgusting.” But then I smile again. “You sure you don’t wanna put a ring on it? She sounds like amazing wifey material.”

  Mack lets out a rich laugh, his smile continuing to grow. “Nah, I’m all set, thanks.”

  We stand there in silence, just staring at each other, smiling lightly, for about twenty more seconds before I start to feel awkward. But I can’t look away.

  I’ve never felt so awestruck by someone before. It’s not even just his looks. It’s that deep rumble of a laugh that hits me right in the chest, and the easy smile and kind eyes. His eyes are glued to me too, the crinkles in the corners remaining even though his smile has dimmed slightly.

  Luckily, someone comes around the corner and claps Mack on the back in greeting, drawing his eyes away from me and offering me a reprieve.

  “Well, I’ll just head back out, then. Come find me if you need rescuing again.” I quickly turn and dart out of the hallway without looking back.

  As I enter the main living area of Jeremy’s massive loft, I’m pulled out of the little bubble Mack and I created in the past few minutes and thrust right back into a party I don’t want to be at. I’m also reminded that I didn’t wear a costume.

  I head for the kitchen and grab a Jarritos soda out of a cooler, stoked when I find the last Tamarind flavor at the bottom. I pop the top of the bottle with a lighter sitting on the counter and take a long drink before looking out at the room.

  My initial assessment of fifty people wasn’t even close. There are at least a hundred people here. I didn’t know that was even possible in a downtown loft, but Jeremy did get a monstrosity of a bachelor pad. I’m seeing lots of scantily clad cheerleaders and referees. Dresses so short I can see ass creases, and make-up so thick I wonder if an artist was involved in the process. That shit is painted on.

  It’s the male costumes that draw my attention and remind me why Halloween season can be so fun. There are a bunch of fun things like old-school baseball uniforms and 70’s basketball gear. There are even a few soccer players.

  I quickly spot Jeremy on the balcony and can’t help the loud bark of laughter that leaves me. He’s dressed as 80’s tennis star John McEnroe, ridiculous hair, short-shorts and all. My laugh somehow catches his attention, even over the music.

  “Rach!” He shouts with a smile, waving me over to him and the crowd he’s standing with. He whispers something into the ear of the redhead draped on him and gives her ass a squeeze.

  I gag. But only slightly.

  She passes me as she walks back inside, gives me an overly bright smile, and trots off to a few friends lurking in the corner of the kitchen.

  When I walk through the sliding doors to his large patio, Jeremy steps away from his group and greets me with a big toothy smile.

  “Favorite brother!” I shout, flinging my arms around his shoulders in a tight squeeze. The hug feels like home, and I realize seeing Jeremy once a week isn’t nearly enough to satisfy me.

  “Favorite sister!” he shouts back enthusiastically. “I’m so glad you came! I wasn’t sure if you would actually come tonight.” He pulls away to grab his beer off of the table he walked away from and takes a pull. “I saw Charlie come in alone, so I figured maybe you just dropped her off and bailed.”

  “I almost did. But then I decided I didn’t want to waste all of the time and effort I put into my super creative costume.” Jeremy looks me up and down, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He didn’t catch my heavy sarcasm over the music that’s making my ears bleed. “I’m a fan,” I say in mock enthusiasm. “Go team!” I punch a little fist into the air.

  Jeremy lets out a little snort and shakes his head.

  “God, you are fucking ridiculous. Okay, the game is currently at half-time, so go grab a drink and get a good seat to watch the second half. I’ll be back inside in a minute. I’m a little busy.” He smirks and then gives a little finger crook to the redheaded cheerleader he was ass-grabbing when I first spotted him and she slinks her way back onto the patio, giving him a seductive grin.

  Rolling my eyes, I step back inside and am immediately accosted by Charlie.

  “Where have you been?” she fumes.

  “Uhm, the bathroom?”

  “Well, while you were in the bathroom, Melody got grabby and latched her fangs into your brother. You’ll be lucky if you see him at all for the rest of the night. It’s disgusting.” Her eyebrows are pulled together in a scowl, and her lips are tight. I notice she said that I would be lucky to see him and didn’t make any mention of herself.

  Part of me wants to say that I saw Jeremy with who I can only assume is Melody the vampire. The other part of me wants to tease her because this is the fir
st time in years that she’s admitted Jeremy’s slutty ways bother her. But I know neither of those things are a good idea.

  “Want me to help get you giggly?” I ask with a smile.

  “I thought you’d never ask.” And she stalks off to the kitchen to, I’m assuming, drown herself in Grey Goose.

  * * * * *

  About an hour later, I’m sitting next to Charlie in front of Jeremy’s monster TV watching the Lakers and the Clippers. Just to clarify: I am actually watching the game. Charlie is a little bit drunk and laughing like an idiot at everything the guy to her right is saying. And no, he’s not funny. He’s actually a total dickwad. I’ve been clenching my jaw at most of the things he’s been saying, but I’ve tried to focus on the game on the TV, and not on this guy trying to game on Charlie. But I swear if he says one more thing, I’ll need to invest in some serious orthodontia.

  “And then I told him to fuck off,” he says, taking a swig of his beer. “I almost socked that faggot in the mouth.”

  “Hey!” I bark at him, making both him and Charlie jump a little bit. “If I have to sit here and listen to your pigheaded ass for one more minute, I swear to God that you will be the only one getting socked in the mouth.” I stand, ignoring his shocked expression that’s quickly morphing into a scowl, and pull Charlie up with me. “I need a drink Charlie. Come with me.”

  With that, I grab Charlie’s hand and pull her off the couch and towards the kitchen, away from the idiot. Half way through the mob of people between us and the fridge, I feel Charlie jerk her grasp away from me.

  “RJ, stop!” she shouts.

  I turn to face her and I’m genuinely surprised at the nasty face she’s giving me.

  “What?” I ask, because I really don’t know what.

  “What the hell is your problem?!” she shouts. I’m not sure how to respond, so I just stand there, mute. “I was having fun with that guy, and you get all high and mighty with your bullshit and ruin everything!”

  I raise my eyebrows.

  “You were having fun? Listening to that asswipe throw around the word ‘faggot’?” Charlie doesn’t respond and just glares at me. “Charlie, your brother is gay. How was that okay with you?” Still she stares, fists clenched, as people talk and dance and move around us.

  I take a step towards her, my voice lowering a fraction to give the illusion of privacy.

  “Look, I know you’re upset about Jeremy, but that doesn’t mean you have to listen to that guy’s shit just for attention. You can do so much better.” I look around quickly. “Come outside and we can talk about this, it’s too loud in here.”

  “You think you know everything, but you know nothing!” she shouts. “Feel free to leave if you don’t want to be at this party, RJ. I’ll figure out my own way home.” She turns around to storm away from me, but wobbles slightly on her heels. And that’s when I realize that Charlie is more than giggly. The girl is tanked. Once she regains her balance, she storms away from me, knocking people out of her way as she goes.

  I stand frozen for a minute, unsure how the situation escalated that quickly. As Charlie disappears in the crowd, I groan in frustration and turn towards the balcony. Hopefully fresh air will clear my head and provide me with a much needed reprieve.

  Thankfully, it’s quiet and deserted. I plop down on a lounger, and stare up at the night sky, wishing I could see the stars. The bright lights of downtown and the disgusting bubble of LA smog get in the way, so I just look up into the yellow-tinted haze.

  Charlie has always been difficult when it comes to men, especially where Jeremy is concerned, but tonight was different. We’ve gotten into fights before when she’s used guys to make herself feel better, but she practically detonated in there. Normally, I make some crack about the guy and she laughs. I’m not sure exactly what happened to her in the past, but I feel like Charlie lets herself get way too wrapped up in getting male attention. She doesn’t stop long enough to remember that she has more to offer a guy than a vagina. And as close as we are, she hates talking about her past, so I know little to nothing about what her life was like growing up.

  Well, I guess we are a suitable pair, then, because I never talk about my childhood either.

  Frustrated and unsure how to deal with my emotions, I let a growl out into the night sky.

  “Feel better?”

  I jump a little and look to the corner where the voice came from, shocked that someone else is on the balcony with me. And when I see who it is, I’m sure my face flushes bright red.

  Mack.

  How did I not notice him when I came out?

  “I’m sorry,” I say, sitting up in my seat. “I thought I was alone.”

  “I can tell,” he says with a chuckle. “But really, feel any better?”

  I give a small smile and nod.

  “Actually, yes. Sometimes when I’m really angry, it helps to just scream it out, you know? Get all the pent up frustration together and just hurl it into the sky?”

  “So you do this often?”

  “Mmmm, not that often. I don’t have that many rage issues.” I smile and he lets out another small laugh. “But normally I head to the field and actually shout or scream. I figured doing that on a balcony in downtown LA might freak a few people out.”

  He smiles.

  “Yeah, I can see how a woman screaming bloody murder might cause a concern.” He stands and walks towards me, then grabs my hands and pulls me off of the lounger. “However, there is a statute in LA county law dictating that two people screaming bloody murder is just a case of young people antics.” He leads me over to the railing at the edge of the balcony, then turns to stand next to me as we look out over Los Angeles.

  “I’m confused.”

  “On the count of three, we’ll both scream.”

  I laugh.

  “Or, on the count of three, I’ll scream, and you’ll just stand there letting me look like a complete idiot.”

  “Oh come on,” he says, nudging my shoulder with his arm. “Trust me.”

  I look into his eyes and for some reason I can’t exactly place, I actually believe that I can.

  “Okay,” I breathe out. “You know, this will be very Garden State of us.”

  He smiles.

  “Nice reference. I love that movie” He turns back to look over the balcony, but I see him eyeing me. “Okay ready?” I nod. “One.” I smile and look directly at him. “Two.” I look back over the railing. “Three.”

  At the same moment, both of us take deep breaths and fling our voices out into the city. His deep one booming out next to mine makes a smile take over my face. For a brief moment, there is nothing but us and the sky. No frustration or longing or disappointment. No anger or fear of the future. Just two stupid young people, eyes scrunched shut, screaming into nothing. Two ridiculous individuals joined together for a moment of absolute hilarity. We stop after about ten seconds, and I can’t help but look at Mack with a huge grin. I literally can’t get it off of my face.

  “Wow.”

  “Wow?” I ask. “That’s all you have to say?”

  “Wow, you scream really loud?” he replies.

  “Dummy!” I shout at him playfully. I still have the same goofy smile, and I notice the amusement in his eyes and the gorgeous half-smile that sits on his face in return.

  “Well before you called me out, I was going to say, ‘Wow, you have a gorgeous smile,’ but now I’m not so sure I want to say that. Now I’m more concerned with your increasingly apparent rage issues.”

  I laugh.

  “Rage issues!? So dramatic!” I let my weight fall backwards but grab the railing at the last minute, stretching my arms out. I pull myself forward then drop back and grab it again. “Don’t even pretend that wasn’t cathartic. I always feel better after something like that.”

  We continue to smile and just stand there looking at each other, like fools. Even though it’s kind of awkward, it’s also kind of nice.r />
  “What’s your name?”

  “RJ. Why?”

  “Just curious. I’m Mack, by the way.”

  “Yeah, I know.” He looks at me curiously for a moment, his eyebrows scrunching together in confusion. “The referee with the nipple piercing. She said it earlier.”

  He nods slowly, the furrow on his brow line disappearing. He turns away and looks back out over the city again and I follow suit. After another minute, he pipes up again.

  “Hey RJ?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Can I take you out sometime?”

  There are dozens of things that I know happen to people who get nervous in social and relationship situations. Butterflies in the stomach. Sweaty palms. A flushed face. Dry mouth. The inability to string together a coherent sentence. All of the ridiculous things that usually don’t happen to me when a guy shows interest. Usually being the operative word. And while I haven’t turned into a sweaty lobster with a speech impediment, I can feel the flutter in my stomach. Nerves. Who knew it could happen to me?

  “Sometime?” I respond, still looking over the railing, actively not looking at him. It’s the only thing making this back-and-forth manageable for me. I may be able to throw out a line or two to make him laugh, but I’m feeling very unsure of myself.

  “Well, I’d ask to take you out tonight, but I figured you were attending a party or something.” I can hear the smile in his voice.

  Tonight.

  He would have wanted to take me out tonight.

  I can’t help but smile too.

  “Plus, tonight is technically over in about two hours. And I want more time than that. So I’m thinking tomorrow instead.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “Yeah. You have plans?”

  “Just in the morning. But I’ll be free after twelve.”

  “So, I’ll pick you up tomorrow at one.”

  “I never said yes,” I respond, still grinning.

  “But you didn’t say no either.”

  “Well, there’s that.”

  We’re both quiet for a few minutes, listening to the sounds of the city, enjoying the cool fall breeze rushing across us, such a contrast to the typical LA heat.

 

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