Part of Me (Jessa & Paxton #1)

by Haven Francis

  “There is no perfect man,” I say, hunkering down into bed. “You are about the closest thing that I will ever have to my perfect man.”

  “I’ve never gotten you off,” he mutters.

  “Exactly, you’re the only guy in my life that I’ve been close to who has never gotten me off and therefore we haven’t ruined what we have. Sometimes I think about that night when I first met you. You were such a prick, but I’m glad. If we would have eventually had sex we wouldn’t have become friends. I wouldn’t have you in my life. It’s scary to think about,” I whisper. Paxton is so quiet, I wonder if he’s sleeping. “I don’t ever want to lose you.”

  I wait a minute for him to respond, but it’s clear he’s dozed off. I close my eyes and try to do the same but I can’t. Now that Paxton’s here I just want to be with him. I want to stay up late and talk like we used to. I want to fall asleep on his chest like I used to. I turn and wrap my arms around his naked stomach, fitting my cheek against his warm back. I take in a big breath, letting Paxton’s familiar scent and his warm body comfort me.

  #

  I wake up with a start; there is a man clinging to my stomach and I can feel an erection pushing into the base of my back. My body is instantly on fire thinking that it is about to get some action and then I remember…. Paxton. I smile and grab a hold of his hand. His long fingers are running over the strip of my belly that’s not covered by my tank top or my shorts. “I missed waking up in your arms, Pax, but your morning wood is not cozy.”

  “Shut up, Jess,” he tells me in a groggy voice like he’s not quite awake. “I was having a good dream, why you gotta go and fuck it up.”

  “Eww,” I say, scooting out of his arms and away from his boner. “I do not want to be groped while you are dreaming about getting it on with some chick.”

  Paxton laughs and pulls me back into position. “Don’t be uptight, Jess. You’re my bed buddy and this guy’s sleeping with you too,” he says, referring to his penis like it’s its own person. “Get used to him.”

  “I’m in a state of sexual frustration so waking up to an eager penis, then realizing it is attached to my best friend, is not ideal. You need to get your little friend under control.”

  “Sounds like you like my big friend.”

  “I would like a big friend,” I mutter.

  “You can borrow him if you need to,” Paxton tells me, pushing himself into my backside which turns me on and has me about to rip my clothes off and sit on him, which is not an option, so reluctantly I sit up and get out of bed. I turn around and look at Paxton. He’s on his back now, his hands behind his head, his hair a sexy mess, his taut, golden body completely exposed. His big friend trying to spring out of his black boxer briefs.

  “You need a cold shower,” I tell him before grabbing my robe and going to take one myself.

  Under the warm water I’m absently thinking about my sexual needs. That situation that happened this morning cannot be a regular thing. I need to find a stable sexual partner – ASAP.

  I get dressed and go to check on Vi but her bed is neatly made – she must be at work. I find Paxton on the couch, eating a bowl of cereal, watching some European festival on Palladia. It’s Sunday, I have a paper to write, but other than that I got nothing going on.

  I sit down and Paxton sets his bowl down before settling into the couch and throwing his hand over my thigh.

  “What’s your plan for the day?” I ask him.

  “I figured you’d keep me entertained,” he says, looking up at me with a crooked smile on his face.

  “You need a guided tour of Chicago?” I ask him.

  “Not unless you got a disguise I can borrow. Laying low Jess… remember?”

  “So this is it, huh?” I ask him, feeling fidgety already. I don’t know why. I should be happy to lounge around all day with Pax but my body is alive with energy.

  “Yep. Sit back and relax, kid.”

  “I’m gonna make breakfast,” I say, standing and heading toward the kitchen.

  He laughs. “What? Are you gonna cook?”

  I roll my eyes to myself. No – I don’t cook. But I mean… it can’t be that hard.

  “I gotta see this,” he says, standing and walking toward the kitchen, taking a seat on one of the stools at the counter.

  I ignore him and take out things from the fridge: eggs, cheese, milk… I can handle scrambled eggs. I throw them on the counter and grab a cereal bowl from the cabinet.

  Paxton smirks at me. “What are you making?”

  “What does it look like?”

  “It looks like you’re making scrambled eggs for a toddler.”

  “Huh?”

  “The bowl, kid. It ain’t big enough.”

  “Oh my god, are you going to sit there and give a play by play with criticism? I don’t need ten eggs.”

  “Yeah? That’s good ‘cause that bowl will fit about one and you’re feeding me too.”

  “Really?” I ask him. “Why the hell would I make eggs for you?”

  “Because you’ve never made me anything. I’m scared shitless but I want to see what you can do, beso. Show me.”

  I give him a tight smile and put away the bowl before I go searching for something larger. I find the biggest bowl in Vi’s cabinet – the one she uses for popcorn, and proceed to torture all twelve eggs until they are in the bowl.

  “Those white things floating around in there,” Paxton says, “those are shells and you gotta get them out.”

  I look down into my bowl and see the evidence of his arrogant assumption.

  “Deal with it,” I tell him. “Only pussies are afraid of egg shells.”

  He laughs to himself before getting off his stool. He stops and plucks a spoon out of a drawer then comes and stands behind me. He reaches around me, pressing his chest into my back and his warm breath onto my shoulder. He starts plucking the shells out of the eggs. “You’re going to make a lousy wife someday, beso,” he mutters.

  “Lucky for me, that’s not true. Another pro to never ever needing a man – I don’t have to cook for anyone.”

  “What’s your plan? You gonna starve to death?”

  “I don’t mind eggs with shells in them,” I mutter.

  “So fucking stubborn,” he laughs before backing away from me and throwing his spoon in the sink. “Carry on, woman, make me my eggs.”

  I turn to him. He’s leaned against the counter now, his arms propped on it, his legs crossed in front of him. “These are my eggs and I’m only gonna let you have some if you shut up,” I tell him, opening the milk and dumping some in. I really have no clue what I’m doing. Paxton is snickering behind me so I assume something is going wrong in my bowl. I throw some cheese in and grab the salt and pepper and add that to the mix.

  I turn, in search of something to mix it with and see Paxton standing there with a whisk in his hand. “That shit’s gonna be awful, beso,” he tells me with a smug look on his face.

  I ignore his comment, grab the whisk and mix my eggs together. I throw my whisk down and Pax comes to peer over my shoulder. “What?”

  “Those yellow things floating around in there… those are the yolks, you gotta break them.” He grabs the whisk off the counter and traps me between him and my bowl again as he starts beating my eggs to death.

  “Jesus, when did you become such an egg snob?” I mutter.

  “They’re called scrambled eggs kid… you gotta scramble them.” He backs away from the bowl and asks me, “What’s next?”

  “I don’t know,” I say, looking down at my now even, frothy eggs.

  “You gotta cook ‘em.”

  “Jesus, Pax. I know that.” I grab a pan out of the cupboard and throw it on the stove, turning the burner up to high and pouring my eggs in. “Is that good?” I ask him.

  “No, it’s not but I think I’ll let you figure it out.”

  I give him a tight smile before mimicking his position, leaning against the counter, legs crossed in front of me.

&nbs
p; “Didn’t your mom ever give you any lessons in the kitchen?” he asks with a smirk on his face.

  “No, actually, she didn’t.” My mom’s only purpose in life after my dad left was to keep the house running smoothly. All she did was cook and clean. She didn’t need me stepping on her toes. “Apparently your mom spent hours of her life training you in the art of egg making.”

  “Not even close. I’ve been cooking for myself since I was six. I got tired of eating sandwiches three times a day.” Paxton’s face is still amused, but what the hell is that about?

  “Why were you cooking for yourself when you were six?” I ask, genuinely curious… and a little concerned.

  Of course he doesn’t answer though, just looks at the stove. “You got a problem, beso.”

  “Oh shit,” I mutter, looking at the smoke coming off my pan. And that’s all I can do is look. “Pax, help. What do I do?”

  “Ask nicely,” he tells me.

  “Pretty please, egg master, help me.”

  Paxton reaches over and removes the pan from the stove before tuning the temperature down. He grabs a spatula then sets the pan back on the burner, stirring the eggs around until the cooked chunks are mixed with the milky ones. “You are a shit show in the kitchen, beso.”

  “Well thank God you’re here now. I want lasagna for dinner.”

  “I’m not one of your bitch boys, Jessa,” he tells me, his back turned to me, an edge to his voice.

  “One of my bitch boys?”

  “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talkin’ about,” he says, turning the burner off and grabbing a couple of bowls, throwing the eggs in them and handing me one. “I did what I could but these are some sloppy fucking eggs.”

  I go to the counter and eat what Paxton has accurately described as sloppy eggs. “They are delicious,” I tell him.

  “It’s pretty hard to fuck up eggs,” he says from across the counter where he’s eating.

  When I’m finished Paxton grabs my bowl and throws it in the sink. “Are we done now? Can we get back to our TV watching?” he asks but he doesn’t really care about my answer because he comes around to me, plucks me off my stool and carries me to the couch, throwing me down before wrapping me back up in his arms.

  “This is going to be so much fun, having you here to boss me around,” I tell him.

  “Am I fucking up your plans, keeping you from church? You know you want to sit around here all day with me.”

  “Yeah, I kinda do,” I admit, snuggling into his chest, grabbing the blanket from the back of the couch and covering us up.

  My phone, which was left on the coffee table after we got home from the bar last night, starts to ring. I pick it up and look at Dylan’s name flashing on the screen. “Shit,” I mutter before answering it. “Hey, Dylan,” I say through a long breath.

  “Hi, Jessa. I’ve been stopping by your place but you’re never around. Will just told me that Taylor thinks you moved out. Is that true?”

  “Yeah, it is,” I tell him, annoyed. At some point he’s going to have to realize that my life is no longer his business. At some point I’m going to have to stop worrying about hurting his feelings and stop answering his calls.

  “Why did you do that? Where are you living?”

  “I moved in with Violet because it was easier than living in the dorm. The girls there don’t love me.”

  “I’m sorry about that. I tried to tell them things were cool with us, that there was nothing to be mad about.”

  “Thanks,” I mutter. “None of that matters now.”

  “Where does she live?” he asks me.

  “Why do you want to know?”

  “I don’t know… I mean, maybe I could stop by and visit you - check the place out?”

  Oh, hell no. “Listen, Dylan, I think that it’s best for both of us if we take a break from the phone calls and home visits for a little while.” Dylan is silent on the other end of the line. When the silence becomes uncomfortable I say, “I’m sure I’ll see you around campus, okay?”

  “So you don’t want me calling you anymore?”

  “I think it would make things easier, for both of us.”

  “So you’re just gonna cut me out of your life completely?” he stammers.

  “No, that’s not what I’m saying. I just don’t think there’s any reason we need to be talking to each other right now.”

  “That’s great, Jessa. I move to Chicago to be with you, a month later you break up with me, then you move out of the dorm and now you’re not even gonna talk to me?”

  I take a deep breath. He’s right- it’s not fair to him. But I can’t keep doing this with him. “I’m sorry Dylan – about everything,” I tell him for at least the hundredth time. “I didn’t plan this. I shouldn’t have started dating you- it was wrong of me. But it’s over now and I just want you to move on because clearly I’m never doing the whole boyfriend thing again.”

  “What about the friend thing? Are you doing that anymore?”

  “You want to be my friend?”

  “Yeah, Jessa, I do. I mean if that’s all you’re going to give me it’s fine. I’ll take it.”

  “I mean… yeah, Dylan, I can be your friend but I’m gonna need a little time. I need a break from everything for a while.”

  “God, you are unbelievable,” he seethes before the line goes dead.

  I let out a long breath and throw the phone back on the coffee table. “Jesus.”

  Paxton laughs.

  “This is funny, huh?” I ask him.

  “No, not really. What you do to those guys is not funny.”

  “Those guys?” I stutter. “There is only one of those guys, and trust me, he will be the last. And who the hell are you to talk? I don’t see you dating anyone. In fact, I’ve never even heard you talk about anyone. All I’ve heard are all the stories of the multiple girls you’ve slept with. Have you ever had a girlfriend?” I ask him incredulously.

  “You’re a girl, Jess. Aren’t you supposed to want to fall in love and get married and all that shit?”

  “Why the hell would you say that? You know I don’t want any of that.”

  “Why not?”

  “What the hell? Are you trying to push me back into Dylan’s arms now? I thought he was a pussy.”

  “That kid is a pussy. I’m talking about finding someone who can handle your crazy ass. Someone you can fall in love with.”

  “Jesus, Pax, when did you get so sappy? No, I don’t want to fall in love. There’s not a guy out there I can fall in love with.”

  “Bullshit,” he mutters.

  I sit up out of his arm now so I can look at him. “Why is that bullshit?”

  “Everyone falls in love, Jess. It’s unavoidable.”

  “Really? Then tell me Pax- tell me about all of the women you have fallen in love with.”

  “Chill out, kid,” he tells me, pulling me back down to his side. “You don’t gotta get so worked up about everything.”

  “Whatever,” I mutter, grabbing the remote from his hand and turning the channel.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “If I’m going to sit here all day we are going to watch an actual show.”

  “Shit,” he mutters, slouching further into the couch, propping his feet on the coffee table and pulling my legs over his lap.

  When I come across Teen Mom I throw the remote on the table and settle into Paxton.

  “Oh, hell no. I’m not watching this shit. This is not a show.”

  “Shut up, Pax, you love this show.” He likes to complain about my reality TV shows, but he always watches them with me and I’m pretty sure he secretly loves them.

  “Is she back with that douche bag?” he asks, sucked in already.

  “Yep. As soon as he got out of jail she was all over him.”

  “These girls are so fucking stupid. Didn’t she learn her lesson the first time?”

  “She’s in love, Pax. You should be happy for her,”
I tell him, reaching up and grabbing a hold of his face. “I don’t care that he’s a cheating, lying, drug addict. I love him so much and we were meant to be together. He never meant to hurt me he just loves me so much and his emotions were too much to handle,” I say, mimicking the stupid things that girls say in order to defend the assholes that they are ‘in love’ with.

  “That ain’t love,” he says, taking my hand from his face and wrapping it up with his own.

  “Whatever you say.” I smile to myself. I’m so glad Paxton is here. I missed this. I missed him.

  Chapter 9 - Paxton

  “So what’s the plan for tonight?” Vi asks the second she steps through the door after working an eight hour shift. That girl has way too much energy.

  “You’re looking at it,” I tell her. Jessa and I have been on the couch all day watching her stupid shows and eating junk food. I have no desire to leave.

  “Ugh, I gotta get up, Pax. I have a paper to write.”

  “What? You didn’t get that done yet? I thought we were going out to dinner at least,” Vi pouts.

  “Pax is making us lasagna,” Jessa says, taking her legs off me and flashing me a smile before getting up.

  “Oh, good. I’ll call Jimmy, he can bring some wine.”

  “I’m not making you lasagna,” I tell her.

  “What?”

  “Sorry, Vi. I was being a smartass,” Jessa tells her. “I have to go the library so I won’t be here for dinner. If you let me borrow your car I’ll pick you up something on the way home.”

  “I’ll bring you,” I tell her, standing. “Let me get a quick shower, then we can go.” As I walk past her, I spank her ass without thinking about it. Jessa turns her head to me with surprise on her face, before winding up and spanking me right back. “Ouch.”

  “Keep your hands off my ass,” she tells me through her laughter.

  Because she said that, I wrap my arms around her and grab both of her firm little cheeks in my hands. “I barely touched you. This is putting my hands on your ass.”

  “Okay,” she says pushing me off of her. “Thanks for clearing that up.”

  “Anytime,” I say, letting go and heading to the shower.

  I’m smiling the entire time I’m under the water. I’m still thinking I gotta talk to Jessa, but it feels so good, so right, just to be back with her and after the little talk we had about falling in love I’m not sure I want to do it right at this moment.