Part of Me (Jessa & Paxton #1)

by Haven Francis

  “I’m grown, Gabriel. There’s nothing she can do to me now.”

  “She can cut your ass off and you know she’s one cold-blooded snake. She’s not gonna give you no second chances.”

  “Maybe I want to be cut off, Pops. Maybe we don’t need to be taking that charity money, huh?”

  “You suggesting I go get me a suit and try to hustle it in some office building? Maybe I’ll go make some sliders for a living, getting minimum wage. We’re living good, Pax. We’re getting by easy. If that tight ass bitch wants to pay your way, and mine too, I’ll take it. She owes both of us for keeping you away from me. Your home now. You need to stay here.”

  I shake my head. The money thing is starting to become an issue in my own head. I’m still under them. Still a dog. Can’t even go where I need to. Can’t buy nothing without feeling like a dirty whore. “It would just be nice if I could cleanse her out of my system completely.”

  “Don’t get all high and mighty on me, niño. Take care of your situation and come home. We’re the ones taking advantage of them, don’t get it all warped.”

  “We’re definitely taking something. Doesn’t feel like advantage,” I tell him, giving him a slap on the back and heading out the door.

  Getting in my car and driving out of the city makes me feel nauseous. Knowing that I’m headed back to Chicago feels like some kind of sick joke. Of all the cities in the world, why’d she have to choose that one?

  And why can’t I let it go?

  Who gives a shit if she’s back in the game and considering finding a new fuck buddy? According to Violet, she’s got everyone in that small pocket of Chicago that I used to consider mine falling all over themselves. Shit shouldn’t bother me. Her life is there and my life is in Venice. That should be the end of it.

  Before, in River Bluff and on campus, her options were guys like Dylan. Guys that she would always be too much for. Guys that would never be what she needs. But a guy like Elijah…. that shit’s just too close to home and I know what he’s capable of - he could maybe tame her and make her his. After the shit that I wadded through last time I was in that town I would think Elijah would know better, but he’s a snake. And he’s not the only guy there that is more than just some pussy pretty boy and I know I can’t keep her on a leash forever. I shouldn’t have thrown her into my old life the way I did. I should have let her take care of herself and I shouldn’t have felt the need to keep tabs on the girl. But it’s too late now.

  She’s under my skin and snaking around my brain and the star of every fantastic dream I have and I need to figure out how to let her in or let her go.

  Chapter 6 - Jessa

  “So, this is it,” Violet tells me, spinning around the living room of her apartment. Our apartment. It took me a while to accept the invitation to move in but when Dylan’s calls became hourly and he started stopping by my room multiple times a day- which lead to the girls in the dorm despising me more than they already did- and considering I spend all my free time with Violet now, I finally broke down and told her yes.

  “I love it,” I tell her. It’s cute and clean and sunny and eccentric, just like Violet.

  “Me too. And I’m glad you’re here. Come on, I’ll show you your room.”

  I follow her to the hallway and then into my new room. It’s just like the rest of the apartment… except for the right side of the room. Someone has covered the walls surrounding one of the two beds in hand drawn illustrations and spray-painted graffiti. “What the hell is all this?”

  “Ugh… Paxton. That asshole. I mean, look,” she says, gesturing to the untarnished side of the room where a bed covered in a bright, floral comforter sits under a window with sunny yellow curtains on one side and a pretty oil landscape on the other. The bedside table looks like a prop with hardcover books and a light blue glass lamp. “This room was so cute and pretty and then that sadist moves in here and next thing I know it looks like a rave happened in here.”

  I laugh. “Paxton? You lived with Paxton?”

  “He didn’t tell you that?” she says, looking grumpy with her hands on her hips.

  “Of course he didn’t,” I tell her, going to Paxton’s side of the room and looking at the pieces of himself that he put on the wall. “I think it’s beautiful.”

  “I know- creepy eyeballs, skeleton faces, weird faces in general, strange little cartoons, doors going nowhere… it’s so pretty it makes me want to kill myself.”

  “Yeah, but look at the waves and the sun. There are palm trees and flowers. Look, there’s even a heart.”

  She comes over and stares at it. “It’s black. There is blood running out of it,” she says looking like she’s going to hurl. “Give it some time, it’ll start to wear you down. Anyway, this is your side of the room,” she tells me, throwing one of my bags on the flower covered bed.

  “I think I want this bed,” I tell her.

  “Suit yourself. You might want to order your Prozac now so you have it when the walls start talking to you.”

  I laugh but the walls are already speaking to me. Every day that I spend with Violet and her friends, that were once Paxton’s friends, brings with it more questions about him. When I ask him my questions he never really gives me any answers. But the walls might tell me something.

  “Get settled, then get ready - everyone will be here in an hour.”

  “Okay,” I tell her. “And thanks, for letting me stay here. And for the party.” I can’t help but recoil. Violet is seriously having a welcome home party for me.

  “You’re welcome, and don’t make that face – it’s gonna be fun.”

  “I know. I’ll smile through all of it. I’ll even eat a piece of that obnoxious cake.”

  “Yes, you will,” she tells me before leaving the room.

  I lay down on my bed and smell the almost forgotten scent of Paxton. I miss him so much. I miss Natalie and Emily too but it seems like my life in Chicago revolves around Paxton so I’m thinking about him all the time.

  I turn on my side and look at the writing that’s in front of me. I can picture him in this bed with his sharpie scratching out the words, knowing full well he’s pissing Violet off.

  Nothing more/ then a whore/ a wasted egg/ bottom dweller/ son of shit/ hide away/ another day/ do it again/ sun is up/ waste/ decay, Paxton has written. I stare at the words, one at a time. I don’t know what they mean, but I can feel them. Part of Paxton is making me feel something painful.

  My eyes shift to the sunnier section of wall. Venice. The sun and waves. The graffiti says, Live and Die Devoted. I close my eyes and try to picture him there, under the sun, on his boards skating through the streets and surfing in the waves. I can see him smile. I can feel his happiness.

  With everything that I’m learning about Paxton I know that his life here was hard. Not that I could tell you why that was, specifically. But the way people talk about him and the expressions on their faces tell me the things he won’t tell me himself. Chicago is waste/ decay. But I know he’s smiling now, under the sun, in the city he will live and die devoted to.

  #

  “See, you’re having fun,” Violet says, sticking her tongue out at me.

  “I’m having the best time,” I shout, aware that I’m inebriated. “I love you,” I tell her.

  “I love you too,” she says before spinning in her party dress and taking off for the bar.

  Elijah takes her place. He grabs a hold of my hand and leads me to the couch, pulling me down onto it. He slings his hand around my waist and puts his mouth on my neck. Elijah facebooked me the night I got escorted out of The Cellar and we’ve been texting since then. He showed up here before Billy and Louis and when they tried to kick him out Violet actually backed me up and told them this is my party and I can invite who ever I want.

  I let Elijah touch me and kiss me. First kisses and new fingers on my skin. I missed it. And Elijah is the kind of guy who will not get attached- I’m pretty sure. “You still taste good,” he murmurs in my ear.
I turn my head to find his lips, welcoming his tongue in my mouth and his greedy hands around my waist. He kisses me long and hard and recklessly and I love it. “Let’s go to your room,” he manages to mumble around my tongue.

  “No, I have to stay here, at my party,” I mumble back.

  “For how long?”

  I stop kissing him then because I can’t just ditch Violet and all her hard work and I’m getting to the point where I might be willing to do that. “‘til it’s over,” I tell him, standing and going to the bar to make myself another drink.

  Billy sides up to me and starts fixing his own drink. “Getting it on with Elijah, huh?”

  “Planning on it,” I tell him as I pour Vodka into my cup.

  “You think Paxton’s gonna be okay with that?” he asks with a pointed look on his face.

  I’ve been letting this shit slide because any time I say anything about Paxton, Billy especially, just looks at me like I’m stupid. But I’m drunk and Violet threw this party for me and I’m tired of him acting like I belong to Paxton. “Why would Paxton give a shit, Billy? He’s my friend. My friend. I don’t know why that is so difficult to understand.”

  He raises his questioning eyebrows at me. “Maybe you should take a few steps out of his inner circle to find yourself a guy.”

  “Maybe you should find something to worry about besides who I’m trying to sleep with. For fucks sake, between you and Louis and Violet I can’t even get a guy to look at me. If you would like to bring some Billy approved men by, feel free. But tonight Elijah is the only one here that’s brave enough to lay a hand on me and I want a damn hand on me, so fricking deal with it.”

  He shakes his head at me and walks away. I put him and his nosey ass out of my mind and head back to Elijah. He’s no longer on the couch where I left him so I start making my way through the crowded room.

  When I find him, he’s being cornered in the hallway by Billy. They both look at me and Billy tells him, “You’re a stupid idiot. When Paxton comes back I’m not gonna defend your ass.”

  “Paxton’s not coming back, Billy,” I tell him as he walks past me.

  “Why are they so convinced you are Paxton’s?” Elijah asks, coming to me, putting his hands on my waist.

  “I’m no one’s. Paxton knows that.”

  “Really? No ones?” he says to me, ducking his head and kissing my naked shoulder.

  “I belong to no one…”

  He bites down on my shoulder and I grab hard to his neck. We stumble down the hallway until we are in my room. He’s got the zipper on the back of my dress undone and I’m working on the buttons on his shirt. He nudges me backwards and I fall on the bed and a second later he’s propped up above me, his mouth back on my skin. He makes his way up my neck and I turn my head to the side for him.

  And then I lock eyes with Paxton’s words. Nothing more than a whore. The phrase spins around my head and Paxton’s sadness comes over me again. I push Elijah off me because I think I’m going to puke. I manage to get off the bed and make my way down the hall to the bathroom. I grasp onto the toilet, preparing to spew, but nothing comes out of my mouth but ragged breaths.

  “Jessa,” Elijah calls from the other side of the closed door. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” I tell him.

  “Can I come in?”

  “No. I’ll be out in a little while.”

  “Okay,” he tells me.

  I lean my back against the tub and try to get a grasp on my spinning head. The door opens then and Violet walks in, closing and locking it behind her. “You okay in here?”

  “Yeah, just a little drunk and spinning.”

  She sits down next to me. “You want me to shut the party down?”

  “No. I’ll be okay. I just need a minute.”

  “Okay,” she says quietly. “Are you going to sleep with Elijah?”

  “Jesus, what’s with you guys? I was planning on going there eventually, but no, I’m not.”

  She lets out a long breath. “Thank God you drank too damn much,” she mutters to herself.

  “It’s not that, Vi. It was the walls. They’re talking to me.”

  She laughs. “Good. You should listen to them.”

  #

  I stumble out of my room, wincing at the sunlight and trying to push back the pain in my brain. Violet is not only up and dressed and looking cheery as ever, but she’s also scrubbing dishes.

  “What is wrong with you?” I mutter, taking a seat on a stool at the small island. “Why aren’t you miserable, like me?”

  “I don’t get hangovers,” she shrugs. “Plus, I have to get to work.” Violet is a stylist at a trendy little salon downtown. “I can’t get that one to wake up and get his ass out of here.” She nudges her chin towards the living room. I look and see Elijah passed out on the couch. “I think he thought you were going to come out of your room at some point.”

  I’m both annoyed and, for whatever reason, relieved that I didn’t get any action last night. It’s all these people telling me that Paxton would be upset if I hooked up with someone and the fact that I’m now sleeping on the side of the room that he made so his. I feel like he’s there with me and that is not a good thing when you are trying to get down under the sheets. I might have to switch beds. Although, despite my hangover, it was good to wake up surrounded by his scent. This is the least lonely I have felt since coming to Chicago. “I’ll get him out of here,” I tell her.

  “I’m glad you didn’t have sex with him last night,” she whispers. “If all you are looking for is some random sex then why wouldn’t you have gotten it from Paxton? I don’t get that. He would be the perfect candidate and clearly he’s got something going on for you.”

  “First of all, I’m not looking for random sex – I’m looking for one person who does not want anything beyond a physical relationship. And second of all…are you serious? There are so many reasons that that isn’t happening, I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

  “Like…?”

  “Like, he’s my friend, just like he’s your friend. I don’t see you screwing him.”

  “That’s because I can’t just screw guys. Sex always makes me attached and needy. If that’s all I was looking for I would have definitely gone there. He would be the perfect friend with benefits.”

  “Wasn’t it you who said sleeping with Paxton was the kiss of death?”

  “With you… I’m pretty sure that’s not the case.”

  “Yes, well I care about him too much to risk losing him. Plus, I don’t see him like that anymore. And everyone seems to forget that he’s two thousand miles away from me, so unless phone sex was my thing, he’s really not a good option,” I tell her with a smile.

  “Good point. Okay, well I gotta go. Call me if you can’t get Romeo off the couch and I’ll send Billy or Louis over.”

  “I can handle him. I’ll see you when you get home.”

  “Later,” she says, grabbing her ginormous purse and heading out the door.

  Reluctantly, I stand and go to the bathroom in search of aspirin and a toothbrush. I find them both before looking in the mirror at my wild nest of hair and the mascara smudged under my eyes. I should probably clean myself up before waking Elijah, but I feel too shitty to worry about crap like that.

  I head out to the living room, sitting down on the couch by Elijah’s stomach. I say his name at an increasingly louder tone and then just start shaking him, wondering if he’s dead. He starts moaning in protest, then finally opens his eyes and cowers at the sun, just like I did. “Time to get up,” I tell him.

  “No,” he protests, reaching out his arms and pulling me down next to him. “Why is it so fricking bright in here?”

  “It’s this thing called the sun. It’s usually pretty bright by eleven A.M.”

  “You are such a smartass,” he says, pinching my stomach. “I waited for you last night. You never came out of your room. You didn’t let me in either.”

  “Yeah, well, you sho
uldn’t have let me drink so much. You have to learn the difference between getting a girl drunk enough so that she will think it’s a good idea to make out with you, and getting her so drunk that it’s not an option.”

  He snorts. “Thanks for the advice. What do I do with a sexy girl who hasn’t had a thing to drink yet?” he asks, running his hand down my side and onto my ass.

  My hands are resting on his naked chest and part of me wants to tell him to devour me and part of me wants to tell him it’s time to get the hell out.

  I don’t have to choose an answer though because suddenly the front door bangs open, scaring me half to death. I startle into an upright position and when I turn to the door, Paxton is standing in front of it. “Oh my god. Paxton.”

  Chapter 7 - Paxton

  After two days of driving, hopped up on coffee and the brand of lack-of-sleep that makes a u-turn all the way back to alert, and with way too much time by myself thinking about Jessa, I’m fired up when I pull up to Violet’s apartment.

  All this shit in my head needs to go which means I need to tell Jessa exactly how I feel. I need to tell her she’s done messing around with amateurs and that it’s time for her to realize that it’s us. That it should be us. Because we are good for each other. Because it’s been obvious from the first night we met that we want each other. The fact that I didn’t take her and managed to be a decent human-being in River Bluff gave me the chance to know her and for her to see the real me who doesn’t have to be anyone for anything. I’ve never felt so close to maybe anyone as I do to Jessa. She knows nothing about me, but she might be the only one who knows the real me.

  All that aside, the plain and simple fact is that I’ve never been affected by someone like I have been by that girl. She changed me. With her, in River Bluff, I felt for the first time in my life like I knew who I was. And she was part of that. And now, I don’t know who I am without her.

  By the time I bust the door open, I can’t wait to eject every last piece of my guts onto her.