Thursday Nights (The Charistown Series)

by Lisa N. Paul

Janie unpacked the groceries on autopilot. Yes, the eggs ended up temporarily in the pantry and the potato chips in the freezer, but in the end everything was where it needed to be.

  “I handled that pretty darn well,” she thought out loud.

  Janie…I’m so sorry...for so many things. She could see the sincerity in his eyes and hear it in his voice when he’d said the words. He almost sounded like he was in pain, even.

  “Good!” she said. “He should be sorry.”

  But the truth was, once he’d apologized, she just wanted to move on. Max was so important to her, and their relationship even before they’d had sex was special. They had fun together, laughed together, even their silences were comfortable. Janie always knew that Max held back a large part of himself—he never even discussed any past relationships. She just always assumed one day he would open up, but that time didn’t come. Her heart ached at the realization that her mind came to: I need more than he can give.

  With more in mind, she though back to her date with Owen.

  “I’m really having fun with you tonight,” he’d said as they walked down Main Street. Charistown’s streets were lined with shops, some big-name stores and other small boutiques. They’d walked through town—holding hands, no less—as they compared student horror stories.

  Owen didn’t even bristle when Janie asked what he called the typical first-date question.

  “Well,” Janie blushed after she uttered the words. “As cliché as it is, it’s a great question, Owen. I mean, you’re a great-looking, thirty-seven-year-old man. Why aren’t you married yet?”

  “How about this…I have no crazy secrets or horribly tragic stories, but I would love to take you out again. Can we save the answer to that question for our second date?”

  Janie smiled at the memory. Here was a man that needed just another date before sharing more of his past. Max had had months with Janie. Countless hours spent together and still he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—trust her enough with even the smallest parts of himself. Yet she couldn’t get Max and his damn walls out of her mind. Foolish girl, the voice in the back of her head whispered.

  The chime of the doorbell made Janie look at the clock. Who is here already?

  Janie knew it wasn’t Lyla because she had called and said Kyle wanted to meet with her and talk, so it wasn’t her showing up at just three o’clock to help with dinner prep. And it couldn’t be anyone who actually wanted to eat unless they had serious time-telling issues.

  Janie peered through the peephole and pulled in a breath.

  “Hello there, stranger,” she said, attempting humor. But even to her own ears it sounded like lust. “Miss me already?”

  The air crackled as Max strolled into Janie’s place like he owned it. But that’s how it was when Max was around—his presence was overpowering. At least for Janie.

  Breathe in,breathe out, she reminded herself.

  Following him into the kitchen, Janie finally found her voice. “Seriously, Max, what are you doing here? Dinner isn’t for two hours.”

  Max stopped walking but Janie hadn’t, so when their bodies collided, her chest to his broad back, breathing became an issue once more. When he turned around to face her, she inhaled deeply. His hair was still damp from his recent shower, and he smelled oh-so-delicious.

  “Do I pass inspection, ma’am?” he asked with a full smile.

  She hadn’t realized she had been staring. Whoops. Embarrassed, Janie poked him in the hard abdominals and walked past.

  “Jane, I was on the phone with Lyla—thanks for telling me she moved, by the way,” he said sarcastically. “When Kyle showed up at her place. She said she wasn’t coming over to help you because she, and I quote, ‘had to hear this asshole out.’ So, I figured you could use some help, and here I am.”

  “You could have called, Max,” Janie offered, trying to sound put out.

  “And you would’ve told me no. So I decided just to show up. So, tell me want you want me to do.”

  What Janie wanted from Max he wasn’t willing to give her—she wanted him to open up. She wanted honesty. She wanted his love. She wanted his body.

  Instead she said, “How about if you start cutting vegetables for the salad?”

  As if Max could read the many other things that crossed her mind before her verbalized request, he just stared at her. Their eyes locked in an embrace that neither one wanted to sever.

  “Janie…” Max’s voice sounded strained, needy.

  “Max, tell me,” Janie asked stepping away from him to give herself some physical distance. “Please. Let me help you get through whatever’s haunting you. We were friends first, so let me be your friend. I can see that it’s hurting you. Let me in. You can trust me.”

  Without realizing it, she had inched closer to him during her plea. Her hand now rested on his forearm. Electrical currents were pulsing up her arms and zinging through her body. With forced gentleness, she removed her hand from his skin, praying that he couldn’t see the panic and lust that was encompassing her every thought. She fought the need to comfort him and the desire to make him forget every woman that came before her.

  Her touch had felt warm and smooth, like fine silk draping his skin, but when she removed her fingers, white-hot heat surged straight to his heart. If she only knew the effect she had on you, his mind screamed, she would never let you go.

  You’re being a selfish ass. The other side of his mind fought back. Let her go!

  Ignoring his body in favor of his mind, Max’s mouth began to move. “I wish I could, Janie. I know that it sounds cliché…Christ, it even hurts to say it out loud, but honest to God, I couldn’t mean this more…it’s not you, it’s me.”

  Flinching at the brush off, she shrugged her shoulders. “Okay, Max, whatever you want. Like I said, I just want to be your friend. Now, be a good sous chef and finish the salad and then pound the chicken breast for the chicken parmesan. I’m gonna take a quick shower before everyone gets here.”

  Max knew Janie well enough to know his words hurt her. She looked physically pained every time he shut her out. While he wasn’t lying when he said the problem wasn’t her, it left a fresh scar on his heart every time he saw the ache he inflicted flash through her eyes. The need to see her face was overwhelming. He had to look in her aqua eyes and make her understand that he wasn’t worth her time or her heart.

  The bathroom door was all that stood between them. He lifted his hand to the doorknob, wanting so badly to open it and go to her.

  He could envision her beautiful, naked body through the steam coming from the shower, the water trickling down her soft skin. Stripping himself down and sliding into the shower behind her. His large hands moving around her narrow waist, grazing over her ribcage and trailing up until he caressed her breasts. His thumb and forefinger rolling her nipples as he leans into her neck and drags his tongue up the long column until he reaches her jaw. Slowly turning her around, the water pounding at her back, he bends forward and begins a slow assault using his lips, his tongue, and his teeth. Her nipples pebble between his fingers, and a slow husky moan bubbles up from her throat, giving voice to her approval of his touch. She whimpers when he moves one hand from her breast and slowly lets it travel down her belly over her pubic bone. She runs her own hand up along his jaw and into his wet blond hair, pulling his head closer to her neck just as he strokes the hard nub between her thighs. She moans when he uses the pad of his finger to fondle her clit, and he can feel her body start to tremble and tighten. He’s not ready to let her come because that would mean he’d be letting her go, so he sinks first one finger, and then two, into her moist heat and begins a slow rhythm in and out of her cunt. “Oh, Max. Oh my God.” Her body is shaking, and her pussy is creaming on his fingers as he’s licking her neck, her jaw, and finally her lips. As he continues to fuck her with his fingers, he uses his thumb to rub her clit, finally bringing her over the edge. He can feel the walls of her sex milking his fingers as he whispers his apology and his love into he
r ear.

  The water from the shower snapped off, then, and Max realized that he was still standing in the hallway with his hand on the doorknob.

  Dazed, disturbed, and a little disappointed in himself, he walked back to the kitchen feeling less like the man in his fantasy and more like the coward he realized he had become. But nothing had changed. Trust wasn’t possible for him. He thought Chloe loved him, and he thought he loved her, but really she was pulling his strings like the puppet master she was, and when she was bored she found new puppets to play with until she was ready to come back to him for more. He was nothing more than her prop, a lap dog, a fool.

  Max looked down at the chicken he was pounding. I hope they like their chicken breast thin, he thought.

  You’d Better Be

  Dressed in skinny jeans and a pink tank top, Janie whirled around her apartment making sure there were beer in the fridge and napkins on the table. The house smelled delicious by the time the group started to arrive, and she had to admit, Max really was helpful.

  “Okay, Max, it didn’t suck having you here to help,” she joked. He didn’t need to know that she had a small moment of weakness in the shower where she let one or two or twenty tears fall. She loved him, and she wasn’t going to apologize for it. She couldn’t help being emotional; it’s who she was. But she was beginning to realize crying didn’t mean she was weak because every day Janie was getting stronger. She was committed to moving on, and each day would get easier.

  A knock sounded on the door, but there wasn’t time to answer it because Ashley and Ryan just walked right in carrying cookies and wine. Family. Janie smiled to herself. So this is what it feels like.

  “All I’m asking is, when you are ‘entertaining,’ that you be a little more thoughtful of the time. There is no reason why I need to hear that you are a ‘god’ until five in the morning,” Ashley complained.

  Ryan smirked. “Sorry, Ash, I can’t help that I make the ladies happy.”

  Max gave Ryan a high five, and venom spewed from Ashley’s hazel eyes. “Do not encourage this behavior, Max DeLucca.”

  Janie looked at Ashley and caught something in the other woman’s face. She had seen that look before. Ashley left Ryan and Max at the door and walked over to Janie.

  “You okay?” Janie whispered.

  Ashley rolled her tense shoulders.“Whatever. He’s a free man, right?” Then she walked into the kitchen for a beer.

  Danny and Julie arrived next, with cheesecake and brownies, Janie’s favorite. When the door opened again shortly after, the entire apartment went silent as Lyla walked in with Kyle in tow.

  “What’s up, people?” Lyla greeted. No one said a word. Kyle looked almost bashful as he nodded his greeting. Danny smiled and clapped him on the back.

  “Look,” Lyla addressed the room. “Kyle, here, can be an ass. That is no surprise. He said horrible, hateful things last week. We talked. He knows his words can never be undone, and he knows that it was his one fuck-up. It’s done. It’s over. So, let’s move on, shall we?”

  With Lyla letting Kyle off the hook, everyone else had no other choice, so Sunday dinner went back to its formally peaceful state. Lyla went into the kitchen to grab a drink, and the rest of the women followed her.

  “Are you really okay with this?” Janie asked. Lyla sent Janie a look so quick that no one else would have ever noticed it. It told Janie that Lyla was still hurting from last week, but that she was trying to get past it. “I want the full story later, Ly, you got it?” Lyla nodded her affirmative, and Janie couldn’t help but smile proudly. This was a huge step for Lyla.

  “So, now that we’re huddled in the kitchen,” Julie quietly asked. “How was your date last night?” All eyes went to Janie. She felt her cheeks warm under the scrutiny.

  “You know what? It was really nice, and—”

  Before she could finish her thought, all the women echoed an “ohhh.”

  “Wait, what’s that supposed to mean?” Janie asked defensively.

  “‘It was really nice’ is the equivalent of ‘she has a good personality,’ or ‘no, size doesn’t matter, it’s how you use it that counts,’” Lyla said. All four women busted out laughing until a little snorting followed.

  Ryan came in to the kitchen. “Everything all right in here?” he asked.

  “Yes! Get out, Ryan,” Ashley said with a little more bite than humor.

  “That is the next topic up for discussion,” Janie said through her hiccups. Ashley gave her a scathing look.

  “Anyway,” Janie continued. “It was more than nice. He is really hot—in fact he’s beautiful to look at. We had dinner and cocktails on State Street––”

  “I’ll bet you had cocktails!” Lyla snorted at her own joke, and laughter peeled out of the women again.

  “Ly, stop. I’m trying to tell you he was a real gentleman. We talked. I mean, we really talked—about so many things. He even discussed his past with me. You know, ex-girlfriends, old drama, the works. I mean, my God, you-know-who is shut so tight I don’t know if he was born or hatched, but Owen…he wants to share with me.”

  “This all sounds…wholesome.” Sarcasm dripped from Lyla’s upturned lips. “But did you kiss him?”

  “Lyla! You are a piece of work!” Ashley ran her fingers through the newly dyed purple streaks in her sun-kissed blonde hair. “So…did you kiss him?”

  “I’m not one to kiss and tell,” Janie said demurely.

  “Yeah, right! But you are obviously one to lie like a fucking rug! So spill it!”

  Leave it to Lyla to call me on my bullshit.

  “Yes, okay, we kissed. He even asked my permission—it was really sweet. The kiss was kind of hot and sexy, though.” The smile that painted Janie’s lips was genuine.

  “Are you going out with him again?” Julie asked, an eyebrow raised.

  “He already asked, and I already accepted,” Janie beamed.

  While the ladies were in the kitchen, the guys were in the family room razzing on Kyle.

  “I can’t believe you had the balls to talk to her face-to-face,” Ryan teased.

  “Don’t be an ass, Ryan. He owed her at least that. I’m proud of you, son,” Danny announced.

  Kyle, drinking only water, lifted his bottle. “To Lyla. I don’t know what she does when she’s not with us, but thank God she doesn’t keep swords in her house.” Kyle looked thoughtful for a moment and then added to his toast, “at least not ones that she has unpacked yet.” The four men laughed and lifted their drinks to Lyla.

  “So,” Ryan interjected. “Speaking of our ladies of myst—”

  “We were talking about Lyla,” Max cut him off.

  “Right, and now I’m talking about Janie. What were you doing here so early? You’re never the first person here on Sunday.”

  Max flipped his middle finger at Ryan and then addressed the guys.

  “Well, dipshit over here went to talk to Lyla, so I thought Janie could use some help with dinner prep.” Max didn’t tell them that he had been with her earlier—they would never let that tasty little morsel drop, so he kept it to himself. Besides, no one but Danny knew his true feelings for Janie, and he had no intention of explaining that being with her was the only time he was truly happy.

  Max was so stuck in own thoughts that he missed the conversation turn.

  “I know—Ashley’s probably getting the scoop right now.” Ryan smiled to a nodding Danny and Kyle.

  “What did you say? I totally missed it.”

  Kyle huffed. “And you guys think I’m fucked up. Pay attention, Max. We were just talking about Janie’s date last night.”

  Max felt his stomach drop like a cinderblock. With the remaining air left in his tightening lungs he managed to squeeze out a “What?”

  “Yeah,” Ryan said. “Ashley went to Lyla’s house yesterday to help with unpacking so that Janie could get ready for her date. Apparently some teacher from her school.”

  Max looked over at Danny, who shrugged his sh
oulders. Max quickly shot up off the couch and headed for the door.

  “Where you going?” Ryan asked.

  “Just for some air,” Max answered. “I’ll be back before dinner.”

  As he closed the apartment door he heard Danny’s gravelly voice. “You’d better be.”

  The women came out of the kitchen with smiles and drinks for everyone. Janie looked around for Max, but he wasn’t there.

  “He had to run out for a minute. He’ll be right back,” Danny answered Janie’s unasked question. “So, tell us about your date, honey.”

  Janie felt her eyes go wide. They all knew she went out last night? Oh no. Is that why Max left? She could feel her cheeks grow warm with irritation—he didn’t want her, but he didn’t want anyone else to have her either? Nice, Max. Nice. The thought was immediately followed up with, Narcissistic much, Janie?

  Janie shook off her inner monologue. “I went out with a co-worker. We’ve been hanging out at school for the past week, and he asked, so I accepted.” Janie looked around the room. All eyes were pasted on her. “He is really handsome and kind and sweet. Danny, you would like him. He’s not a douche at all.”

  Danny let out a deep belly laugh. “Good, honey. I’m glad!”

  “We had dinner, and he didn’t even make me pay the tip,” she joked. “We’re going out again—”

  Before Janie could finish her statement, Max reentered her apartment. The room went silent for a brief second before Lyla announced that dinner was ready. The group went to the table, the quiet a bit uncomfortable, and sat down to eat.

  Max was tense. His head hurt and his teeth ached, but he couldn’t seem to lessen the clamp of his jaw. It presented a slight problem in regards to eating, but Max wasn’t concerned about that just then. He had setup the rules, he reminded himself. He had refused her. It’s not you, it’s me, he’d told her. He couldn’t now keep her from dating. He wasn’t being fair, and he knew it. He knew that he had no claim to her, but hearing Kyle and Ryan discuss Janie’s love life made Max want to vomit. So that’s what he had done. He’d gone outside and puked his guts up. Then he went to the pharmacy and got some mouthwash before coming back. The whole thing was like a knife through his gut, and now he was bleeding out with no one to blame but himself.