Thursday Nights (The Charistown Series)

by Lisa N. Paul

  Finally—and reluctantly—they disentangled, and Janie got up and headed to the bathroom. Max assumed she was going to get ready for bed, but Janie turned around and grabbed her cell phone from the dresser before closing the bathroom door.

  Janie looked at herself in the mirror. She looked well and truly fucked. Her cheeks were flush, her lips were swollen, and she even had slight beard-burn on her chin. She was a mess.

  Nice, she thought to herself, a nice way to meet the new students.

  Looking down at her hands she noticed that they weren’t shaking, though. She was all right. Still worried about Lyla, but all right. Max had been there for her ––was still there for her—and she was all right.

  She preformed her quick bedtime routine and then called Lyla.

  Voice mail. Again.

  “Ly, honey, it’s me. I wish you would call me just to let me know that you’re okay. What am I saying? I know you’re not okay. Well…I love you, Ly. I’m here. Please don’t shut me out.” Janie disconnected the call and sent a text for good measure, telling Lyla that she loved her and asking her again to reach out.

  When Janie looked back in the mirror, there were tears in her eyes. She turned off the bathroom light so Max wouldn’t see her tears and got into bed. She rolled onto her side and immediately Max was spooning her. “What are you doing, Max?”

  “I’m here, Janie,” was all he said as he held her close and kissed her shoulder softly.

  Max held Janie until her body finally relaxed into sleep. Even though her back was spooned to his front, he could still feel the slight shaking from the tears she tried to hide from him. He had heard her leaving the message for Lyla and the quiet plea for a return call, but allowed her to maintain her privacy when she crept back into bed.

  Self-hate filled his mind as he held her close, running his fingers through her silken hair and placing soft kisses on the crown of her head. Comforting her felt good…natural…but unacceptable. Friendship. That’s what he could give her. He was already in too deep, and he couldn’t risk his heart ever again. Tomorrow he was going to have to resurrect the walls that she had unknowingly blown apart. The lyrics to Maroon 5’s song, “Daylight” played through his mind. He knew it was late but the thought of closing his eyes and missing one minute of this time with her made him ache. He didn’t want to think about leaving, so instead he pulled her closer to his body and allowed her warmth to flow through his skin. He didn’t want to leave but he knew he didn’t have the heart to stay. So Max allowed himself the handful of hours that he had left to hold the woman that he had fallen for so unwillingly. He soaked up her soft scent and stroked her hair and listened to her breathe. He was in too deep with Janie Silver. Fuck!

  As the hours passed, sleep evaded him. If only he could trust again…This was Janie, not just some random woman. How was he going to fix this? How would he be able to walk away? Could they still be friends? Would she let him go? Did he want her to? He slammed his eyes shut tight, the questions battering him when he heard Janie’s voice.

  Shit! He held his body very still, but relaxed once he realized that she was just talking in her sleep. Her body tensed beside his as she called out for Lyla. And then his heart stopped when her sleeping lips begged for him. Holding her tighter, he placed butterfly-soft kisses on her fair skin, careful not to wake her.

  One more hour and he would have to say good-bye. Max felt his chest tighten, his anxiety reawakening. He needed to get to the track. A few hours in his car at 150 miles per hour should help calm him down. His heart had already been gone for more than ten years, but he still had to protect what was left of his soul. And he knew he was screwed. Knowing what he was about to do, the sound of the alarm clock forced him to close his eyes in an attempt to shut out the inevitable.

  Quickly turning off her alarm, she turned to make sure it hadn’t disturbed Max. Nope, he was sound asleep. Janie checked her phone next—no messages from Lyla. Her mind started to race again. She couldn’t just lie there thinking.

  After showering and dressing in the bathroom, Janie looked at Max’s sleeping form.

  “God, you are so beautiful,” Janie whispered almost inaudibly. She swiped her cell, closed the bedroom door, and went to the kitchen. She grabbed a cereal bar and left Max a note.

  Max,

  Thank you for last night. You’re an incredible friend…and maybe something more. You were exactly what I needed.

  Chat soon.

  J

  Janie took her bags and left the house. First stop: Starbucks. Caffeine was a must to get through this day.

  As soon as Max heard the front door close he sat up. He was such a pussy, pretending to sleep instead of facing that amazing woman and telling her that they had to go back to the “just friends” part of their relationship. He grabbed her pillow and held it to his face, inhaling deeply so he could memorize her scent.

  Over and over the words played through his head as he got dressed and left the bedroom. Just friends.

  On the kitchen counter next to his keys was a note. Her flowing, scripted handwriting felt like a kiss on the cheek, but the words were a stab to his chest.

  A friend...and maybe something more…

  He felt like such an asshole. But that didn’t change the facts. He couldn’t stay. He knew he couldn’t trust, he couldn’t love blindly, and he couldn’t give his whole heart. So that was it.

  She was wrong in her note—he wasn’t what she needed. He wasn’t what anyone needed. He stood up straighter and snatched the note off the counter. He shoved it in his pocket and walked out the door, refusing to look back.

  Are you Sure You Can Spare It?

  As Janie waited in line for her coffee, she heard the chime of her text alert. Janie took her first deep breath since Lyla left the previous night at the sight of her best friend’s name on her cell.

  Sorry I left you last night. Hope you weren’t alone. OK here. Just need some time. Have a gr8 first day of school. Chat later. XO L

  Thank God, Janie thought, sending a text back.

  Please don’t ever go silent on me like that again. I was scared! Max came by though… School’s out at 2:30. Call you then. XO

  Coffee now in hand and worry fading, Janie plowed through her morning, meeting students and discussing expectations for the school year. Between afternoon classes she snuck glances at her cell in hopes of seeing a text from either Lyla or Max, each time slipping her phone away in disappointment. When it was finally the end of the day, Janie was ready for another caffeine fix. She headed to the teacher’s lounge, bags and half-full travel mug ready to go. She was like a tornado rushing for the coffee machine, whirling around only to collide with the broad, hard chest of the young, new Algebra teacher.

  “Oops! Mr. Michaels! I am so sorry—I clearly wasn’t paying attention.” Janie couldn’t help the blush that crept to her cheeks and then cringed. “I hope I didn’t spill on you…”

  “No harm done.” The sexy teacher smiled, wiping away the small splash of coffee from his suit sleeve. “I’ll join you if you’re walking out.” Janie watched the dimple in his right cheek deepen and nodded.

  The silence as they walked was awkward, the clicking of their shoes on the blacktop the only sound. Janie couldn’t take it anymore.

  “So, you survived your first day, huh?”

  “I guess so,” he responded hesitantly, pulling at his shirt collar. “Who would’ve thought that eighth grade girls could flirt like that? It makes a man uncomfortable.”

  Janie smiled and patted his arm. Her eyes widened at the feel of the bulging biceps under his sports coat. She gently took her hand off his arm as to not create more of a spectacle of herself. At just over six feet tall, the mocha-skinned man with milk-chocolate-colored eyes was a sight to behold. No wonder those girls were flirting with him!

  “Listen, Michaels, junior high girls are hormonally charged time bombs. Do your best to be kind, but never be alone in your classroom with one of them.” Janie paused. “Let’s j
ust say there was an incident a couple of years ago with a student and a married teacher…and I know the teacher was innocent. I also know the teacher is no longer married and no longer teaching here.” Janie raised an eyebrow at him.

  “Uhh…” he said, looking flustered. “Well, that’s not good.” He chuckled then. “Thanks for the heads-up.”

  “No problem,” Janie threw over her shoulder as they parted ways.

  Well, Max, it appears as though I’m going to fuck you…

  The words she whispered to him in the dim light of her room the night before reverberated in Janie’s head. She still couldn’t believe that she had found the guts to say those things to him. She wasn’t that person; she had never been that person. She must have been channeling Lyla. The thought brought a slight smile to her lips. She had tried so many times to be a super-confident, strong woman, but she never quite made it. Or maybe, she mused, maybe being with a man that made her feel comfortable and self-assured allowed her to dig deep and find the woman she was meant to be.

  She felt herself start to frown when she began to think about the men from her past. After so many guys told her that she wasn’t enough, by either verbally abusing her or cheating on her, she’d started to believe that they were right. She lost a little piece of herself in every one of her poor romantic choices until all that was left was a shell of a person. For years Lyla had been trying to get Janie to take a look at who she really was. Not to show her what she was becoming, but instead to show her what she was leaving behind. Janie refused to take that look, though, and Lyla refused to leave her behind. Instead, Lyla stood just behind Janie through every damaging relationship and stood beside her during every single break-up.

  And then there was Max.

  Over the past six months, he had made her laugh to the point of tears. He always referred to her as “sexy,” or “sweetness,” or “babe,” and while Janie had never given it conscious thought before, his actions had given her the confidence to act on her desire to take what she wanted—no, what she needed—from him the previous night. The realization sent a jolt through her system. The question was, what should she do now?

  Lyla responded to Janie’s text requesting they talk instead of text with a simple I’m fine, followed by I promise to actually call you tomorrow. Janie sighed but understood: Lyla needed more time.

  The dinner invitation Janie received from Ashley and Julie helped to ease some of the hurt that Lyla’s absence was causing. She knew her best friend was going through her own stuff, too, but Janie needed Lyla, just as much as Lyla didn’t want to admit she needed Janie. At least a night out would be distracting.

  The three women met at The Sombrero, their favorite Mexican restaurant, for dinner and drinks. The red walls met colorful Mexican blanket panels draped across the windows—décor that could make anyone cheerful, no matter her mood upon entering.

  “Have you actually spoken to her?” Julie asked.

  Janie tried her best to explain, without going into too much detail, how important it was to let Lyla have her space. “She promised to let me hear her voice tomorrow,” Janie stated. “You may not know this yet about Lyla, but she never breaks a promise, and she never lies. Of course, she can’t lie for shit…so maybe that has something to do with it.”

  The three women chuckled and toasted their margaritas to Lyla.

  “Okay,” Ashley said with a raised brow, “I have wanted to ask this for days, but I kept hoping you would bring it up…what’s the deal with you and Max?”

  Janie’s mouth opened, but no words came out. She looked at both women. Julie silently sent a smile and a wink in Janie’s direction.

  “I don’t know, Ashley,” Janie said, turning her attention to Ashley with a sassy flip of her hair. “What’s the deal with you and Ryan?”

  Julie spit out her drink, and now it was Ashley’s turn to look like a fish out of water. “Message delivered, message received.”

  As the women started on their third round of drinks and tapas, Janie was sporting a nice margarita-buzz.

  “So, here’s the deal with Max,” Janie slurred slightly. “There is no deal.” She kept her eyes down toward the terracotta-tiled floor, not wanting to see the sympathetic stares she knew she was getting from the woman across the table. “He said he wanted me, and I wanted him soooooo badly. The phrase ‘sex with friends’ was thrown out, and my God, I have been half in love and completely in lust with that man for months. So when he tossed out the idea, I reached out to catch it, not caring if I wasn’t wearing a glove. So, he comes to me, seduces me…and I loved every second of it.”

  The words were falling out of her mouth like sand from a sieve, but she couldn’t stop them. She knew she would probably regret the candid conversation in the morning, but damn it, she needed to get it off her chest. “So, the next morning he goes to get me coffee, and he comes back a different man. All skittish and kind of cold. He left and I didn’t hear from him for days. Then Sunday night…happened. You saw him Sunday night, right? It wasn’t my imagination?” Janie was finally looking her friends in the eyes.

  Julie, having only sipped one drink all night, put her hand on Janie’s. “Yes, honey, we all saw how he looked at you—and how protective he was.”

  “Thank God,” Janie said. “I was beginning to think it was all in my head! So, yeah, everything happened with Kyle and Lyla, and so I went home. I’m gonna be honest, I was a fucking mess. Lyla’s like my sister.”

  Janie saw the awareness in Julie’s eyes. “Why didn’t you say anything? I would have stayed with you if you needed a friend...”

  Squeezing Julie’s outstretched hand, Janie lowered her eyes back to the ground as she quietly replied. “Honestly, the only person I’ve ever had to depend on is Lyla…. When she left the house and went silent on me”—Janie’s eyes welled with unshed tears—“well, anyway, I didn’t know what to do. I went looking for her myself but no luck.”

  “Janie!” Julie snapped. “You went looking for Lyla alone at night?!”

  Janie nodded silently. When the silence stretched on for a beat too long, Julie took a deep, audible breath, and Janie lifted her eyes. She could feel the daggers being mentally shot at her as Julie’s posture went rod-straight and her mouth pinched tight.

  With Julie’s next deep inhale, Janie heard Ashley stage-whisper, “Ooh, you’re in trouble!”

  Julie’s hard grip on Janie’s hand pulled her out of her reverie. “Look at me, young lady. You are a young, beautiful, sexy woman. You do not ever go around town at night, getting in and out of your car alone. Do you hear me?” Janie nodded. “Words, Janie, I need words!”

  With that phrase, an image of Max formed in her head, his voice saying that same line dancing in her mind. “Yes, Julie,” she sighed. “I hear you loud and clear. And what’s with you guys at the bar and your need for words?”

  Ashley giggled through her fingers.

  “Janie, I don’t know what kind of crappy situations you and Lyla are coming from because the two of you guard your secrets like the National fucking Treasure, but I will have you know that you are no longer alone.” Julie’s voice softened. “You have us. All of us. We are not perfect people, as Kyle can attest, but we love you. So, let us.”

  Janie felt warm tears inching down her cheeks, and once she realized she was crying she gave herself over to the emotion. Great big sobs started pouring out of her small frame, and within a second’s time, Julie enveloped Janie in a hug. She whispered kind, loving words and stroked her hair. It was the first time in Janie’s life that she felt anything even resembling a mother’s love.

  After a minute, Ashley cleared her throat and called to the waitress. “Another round, please.”

  Janie wiped her eyes and started laughing.

  “So,” Ashley said. “Can we get back to the whole Max thing now?”

  Janie threw a chip at Ashley and continued their earlier conversation. “So, after he shows up at my apartment and tells me that he is there to be my friend, I
turned into a complete slut and basically forced him to have sex with me.” The only thing hotter than the feel of Janie’s cheeks was the salsa on the table.

  “Give me a break, Jane. I am willing to bet my tips on a Thursday night that there was no force needed to get Max into your bed,” Ashley declared.

  Ignoring what was probably the truth, Janie forged on. “It was amazing and beautiful, but…I don’t know. It felt more like a good-bye than anything else.” Then with as much casualness as she could muster, she added, “Maybe it’s for the best.”

  Her stomach clenched when she made Ashley and Julie promise not to get involved in the whole situation—or in this case, the whole non-situation—and they immediately gave each other what Janie could only describe as a suspicious look. Janie knew those looks. She and Lyla used them all the time…usually just before they did something they weren’t supposed to do.

  On Tuesday morning, Janie received a text:

  Hey, Jane. Just wanted to check in with you. Have you heard from Ly? M

  I’ve got to stop looking for hidden meaning in this text, Janie thought to herself as she read it over and over again, whenever she had the chance between classes. It’s a friendly text. He’s being friendly.

  Having read and re-read the message for what felt like the hundredth time, Janie finally responded.

  All’s fine. Got a text from Ly…should hear from her later today :) J

  Before she could overanalyze her response, she pressed Send, slipped the phone in her pocket, and went on with her day.

  Lyla’s call came while Janie was driving home from work that day. There had been several texts, but it was the first time she had heard Lyla’s voice since Sunday. She pulled over to the side of the road when she felt her throat tighten and her eyes begin to sting.

  “Hi, honey, how are you?” Janie’s voice filled with fake bravado.

  “Cut the crap, Jane.” Snarkiness oozed from Lyla.