by E. L. Montes
“Jenna, if you don’t open this goddamn door, I’ll break it down!” More banging. “And just because I’m this one hundred and fifteen pound, five-foot woman doesn’t mean I don’t have the strength to get through!”
“Leave me alone,” I mumble, rolling into my sheets. I cover my face with a pillow.
“That’s it. You leave me no choice. I’m getting one of the contractors out back to saw this damn door open.”
What. The. Hell.
She will, too; that’s the screwed up part. Damn her. And damn my mother for giving her a key to the house. Damn her again for being a pain in my ass. Dammit all! I roll out of bed, stumble toward the door, and swing it open. Charlie, with her arms crossed, raised brow, and pissed-off look, stands on the other side. I size her up slowly and turn, leaving the door open as I walk back to my bed. “And it’s one hundred and thirty pounds at four foot eleven,” I correct. Somebody’s got to keep her honest.
She lets out a frustrated groan. “I am five foot.” I’m not going to argue with her. Not now. I just don’t have the strength. My body flops onto the plush surface of my mattress. Mummy style, I wrap myself back up in my sheets. The bed sinks in as she hops on. “I’m not doing this with you today, Jenna.”
“And what is that?” My voice muffles against my pillow.
“This.” She pulls at my sheets.
I pull back. “Leave me alone.”
“No. You’re getting up. You’re going to take a shower, and we’re getting out of here.”
“No.” I grip the sheets again, tugging them a bit harder this time around.
“Jenna,” she hisses.
“No!” I spit back. “I’m going back to bed. I’m tired. I don’t want to do anything.”
She moves around on the bed. Then she jumps off, which is such a relief. Good. I’m glad I was able to—
Oh. No. She. Didn’t.
She thrusts at my hipbone and I fall out of bed, my ass making a loud thumping noise as soon as it makes contact with the hardwood floor. She just tossed me off the bed. I’m pissed. Beyond furious, I jerk up, untangling myself from the sheets. Once I’m free from the fabric, I shoot a death glare her way. If looks could kill, she’d be one dead chick right about now. “You bitch!”
Charlie grips her hipbones and matches my glare from across the bed. “You can do better than that. I’ve been called worse.” She stretches out her right arm, pointing in the direction of my bathroom door. “Now, I’m going to need you to take a shower. Throw on a bikini. We’re going to relax by the pool and talk.”
“I don’t want to. What part of that don’t you understand?”
She straightens her back and relaxes her eyes. “Jenna, I truly don’t give a fuck. We’re going swimming for the following reasons: a) I’m a hell of a good friend and I’m concerned about you; b) I’m hot as all hell from this ninety-degree weather; and c) my pussy is sweating and needs a dip in the pool. So go, now!”
“I hate you and you’re disgusting.”
“Mmkay. You can hate me all the way to the pool. Let’s get going. I’ll be right here, waiting for you.”
Humph. I storm into the bathroom.
It’s hot as hell out here. I’m used to working under the sun, but today I could fry an egg on the fucking concrete. We started work on the McDaniel project four days ago. Between me and the other workers, it’s been successful. The foundation of the guesthouse is almost done, and I suspect by Monday we can begin the framing. With ten-hour shifts, our team has been known to beat its deadline.
“Lunch time,” Bryson calls out. I drop the hammer in my hand and hear the loud thump it makes as it hits the ground.
I’m starving.
Mrs. McDaniel insisted we use her patio instead of having us hanging around on the back of our trucks to eat our lunches. Either way, I don’t care where I eat. I’m a big guy and food is a necessity to keep me going.
When I approach one of the tables, I see that Justin, Danny, and Scott are already seated and digging into their sandwiches. An arm loops around my shoulder, and I tilt my head to look at Bryson.
A wide grin spreads across his face. “My aunt makes the best sandwiches around.” He winks. His remark about my mother makes me laugh. It’s true. They’re simple lunchmeat sandwiches on fresh Amoroso’s rolls, but something about them just tastes like fucking heaven on earth. My mother makes a point to prepare all of the lunches for Reed Construction employees.
“Yep,” I agree. We take a seat at the table with the others.
Danny lifts his head and looks around, searching for something. “Where the hell is Santino?” he asks.
I give a one-shoulder shrug. “No damn clue, but he can eat on his own time,” I say, digging into the bag and searching for my sandwich.
“Damn,” Santino utters as he exits the sliding doors from inside. “No love whatsoever. It’s cool, Logan. I see how it is. I was just using the bathroom.”
I laugh once. “You know how I get when I’m hungry. I’m not waiting for no one.” It’s true. I turn into the fucking devil himself when I don’t eat. I open the foil of my sandwich, ignoring everyone around me, and bite into the deliciousness my mother prepared. Santino finally joins us at the table. Uncle George had to leave early today for another doctor’s appointment. Before leaving, he gave each man his assignment and put his son in charge.
Santino clears his throat. “Yo, I have to tell you about this chick I met up with last night.”
“The blonde from Wasted?” Danny asks.
While chewing my lunch, I sit back and watch the conversation unfold. “Nah.” Santino shakes his head. “Another chick.” He waves his hand. “So there we are in my bed. Her wrists are tied to my bedpost. Her tits are bouncing as I’m banging her. I’m whispering sweet nothings in Spanish, and—”
“Spanish?” I ask.
Santino turns his head my way, his face clearly annoyed by my interruption. “Yeah. She wanted me to talk Spanish to her while we banged.”
“But you don’t speak Spanish,” I remind him. He’s probably the only Puerto Rican I’ve met who doesn’t speak a lick of it.
Santino flashes a mischievous grin. “She doesn’t know that.”
I lean over the table, laughing at him. “So you basically chanted a made-up language and passed it off as Spanish?” He nods, and his smile grows wider. “And she bought it?” I ask. Santino nods again. The rest of the guys burst into a hard laugh. “I bow down to you, master.” I stand up, raise both arms, and bow.
“All right, can I finish my damn story now?”
The patio door slides open and closed. All six of us turn to see who it is. Both Jenna and her blonde friend—whose name I think is Charlie—step out in their bikinis, each with a towel in hand. Jenna glances over, hesitant to move forward. She starts to turn back around, but her friend tugs at her arm just in time. My eyes flick over her face; it’s a weird instant reaction for me. There are two hot girls practically naked before me, but I glance at her face? She ducks her head low, nervously pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
When I last saw Jenna on Monday in the shed, it was clear that something was bothering her. The moistness on her cheeks and the red rim around her eyes clearly showed she’d been crying. I know I shouldn’t have allowed it to bother me as much as it did. Women cry all the damn time, but Jenna seemed to be lost deep in thought. I’ve seen that sad, empty look a dozen times before in my mother’s eyes—when she cries, when she thinks back on my father, and when she thinks about Sean’s death.
“Ladies,” Santino greets with a nod.
Charlie smiles brightly and walks over to our table, dragging Jenna the entire way. “Hey, guys. What are you all up to?”
Santino leans in and whispers to us, “Watch and learn, guys. Watch and learn.” He turns, giving Charlie his winning smile, and begins spouting off stuff in some made-up language in an attempt to sound sexy.
Charlie smiles, pleased. “What does that mean?” she asks.
Santino looks at her with smoldering eyes. It takes every bit of me to not burst out laughing. “It means, ‘I was thinking maybe you and I could be up to something.’” I was doing well biting back my laugh, but the moment my gaze shifts over to Jenna and I see her pressed brows and the look of disgust aimed right at Santino, I lose it. I burst into the hardest laugh I’ve ever had, which starts everyone else up. Laughter erupts around the table. Everyone but Santino is howling, but he just glares at us. That makes us laugh even harder.
“That’s not what you said,” Jenna pipes up.
Santino drags his glare her way. “Oh yeah? Then what did I say?”
“I have no clue,” she replies. I snort louder. Her eyes meet mine, and for a second I think her lips are about to twitch into a slight smile. But just as quickly, they fall back into the thin line she’s famous for.
“If you don’t speak Spanish, it may sound like gibberish to you. So, yeah, that’s exactly what I said.” Santino states matter-of-factly.
Charlie snakes her arm around Jenna’s shoulder, pulling her in closer. “But Jenna’s fluent in Spanish.”
Oh my God, this might be the best day of my life. I’m crying from laughing so hard. “Busted!” I cough out, pointing at Santino, who’s completely dumbfounded at this point.
Jenna nods. “Esto es cierto.” I’m not sure what she just said, but it’s priceless. It’s the cherry on top of this entire conversation.
Staggered and a bit played, Santino smacks his lips aside in a cocky way. He then changes the subject. “Anyway, you ladies still coming to the lake house party this weekend?”
Now this brings me to full alert. I wasn’t aware Santino invited them. I don’t care, but we typically keep the invites to a minimum, only inviting people we know and trust to our yearly summer bashes.
Originally, it was a family vacation getaway in the Poconos. My uncle built the home himself. I spent most every summer of my childhood at the small cottage by the lake. Sean, Bryson, and I looked forward to it every year. But as we grew older and my uncle’s business expanded, our little family vacations slowly vanished. It wasn’t until Bryson’s twenty-first birthday, when he convinced his father to give him the keys to the lake house for a small get-together with friends, that our new summer tradition began. Let’s just say that the “small” get-together was a major success, one we repeated most weekends that summer. Ever since, we’ve been throwing parties there on the weekends every summer, starting with Bryson’s birthday bash.
“I’m trying to convince this one to go.” Charlie points her thumb at Jenna. “She’s not so keen on spending a weekend with you guys.” I look over at Jenna, whose wide eyes have zoomed in on Charlie.
Santino gets up from his chair and makes his way over to the girls, nestling between Jenna and Charlie. He wraps his arms around the both of them. “I promise we won’t bite, ladies. We’ll be perfect gentlemen, unless you want us to have a taste. That’d be awesome too.” He says, looking at Jenna.
She shoves out of his hold. “No, thank you.” I can see her repulsion at the idea when she glances over at me one last time before marching to the opposite side of the pool. I watch as she tosses her towel on the ground and belly flops onto one of the lounge chairs.
“What’s up with your friend?” Santino asks. “She’s so uptight.”
I’m still focused on Jenna when I hear Charlie say, “No, she’s just going through a rough time.”
“Is she always like this?” I ask. I met Jenna less than a week ago, and I’ve already seen so many sides to her.
“Like what, exactly?” Charlie asks.
My eyes meet hers. She’s staring at me inquisitively, making me feel a bit uneasy for having been caught staring at her friend. I’m not sure why; I never feel uncomfortable or even a tad bit embarrassed—especially not in front of women. “Up and down. Like you’re not sure what to expect when you’re around her.”
Charlie crosses her arms over her chest and drops her hip as she sizes me up. “Yes. She’s always like that.”
“Pfft. Cray-cray,” Danny interjects.
Charlie jerks her head around and glares at him. She chucks Santino’s arm off her shoulder and bends over Danny. Her small frame looms over him, creating a shadow across his surprised face. One small hand goes to his shoulder, the other rests on the edge of the table. “The next time you call my friend crazy, I’ll show you just how crazy I can get. And never, ever say that to her. Do you understand me?” Damn. For a tiny thing, she can be deadly. Danny nods. “Good,” she finishes. Then she stands and strolls off to join Jenna.
Bryson lets out a long, low whistle. “That was intense. What the hell was that about?”
“I have no idea,” I respond.
The rest of the lunch hour we all poke fun at each other. Santino finishes the story he tried to tell when we first sat down, and a few of the other guys tell stories of their own. All the while, I sneak glances at the girls from across the pool. My eyes may be playing tricks on me, but I think Jenna’s been sneaking a few glances over here as well.
“Hey. Maybe we should make amends?” Bryson nods toward the other side of the pool. “The last thing we want is my father finding out that Santino’s sexually harassing our clients.”
“Yeah. You’re right. Let’s get it over with so we can focus on finishing today’s goals.”
The rest of the guys head back to work as Bryson and I make our way over to the girls.
“Are we going to keep doing this, Jenna?” Charlie whines. I continue to ignore her. The last thirty minutes were hard to get through since I can never go very long without talking to her, especially when she’s practically in my face, hounding me. “Jenna.” With my eyes closed, I adjust myself in the lounge chair, making myself a bit more comfortable. As hot as it is, I soak in the sun and allow myself to tan in peace, disregarding her. “Jenna!” she cries out again. I think I’m enjoying this. This is payback for forcing me out of my room and then embarrassing me in front of the guys.
“That’s it!” I hear her wet flip-flops squishing across the patio. Before I can utter a word, Charlie’s legs are straddled on either side of my hips. I pop my eyes open and she leans forward, her face inches from mine. Charlie grips my wrists, places them over my head, and humps me. She’s literally humping me.
“What the hell are you doing? Get off me!” I struggle beneath her.
“Oh, yes!” she yells out, panting. “Fuck. You feel so good, Jenna.” Still humping. “Oh, God…harder.” She looks ridiculous. “You know how I like it, baby. YES!” Her back arches, her eyes roll to the back of her head, and then her body shudders as she acts out her fake orgasm.
Is she serious right now? “You’re absurd!”
She releases my wrists from her hold and sits back on my thighs. I lift myself up with my elbows and look up at my friend’s crooked grin. “Is that a smile plastered across your face, Jenna McDaniel?” I force my lips back to a thin line. “Well, I think I’ve succeeded. One point for me.” She shoves her hips, one time, into mine. “Boom!”
“Get off me.” I wiggle beneath her and push forward to move her off. But I can’t. Her legs are practically glued to my thighs.
“Careful. My pussy lips are twerking again. I may go another round.”
“I hope we’re not interrupting?”
Charlie and I turn our heads toward the voice. Can this day get any more embarrassing? Both Bryson and Logan are standing there, Bryson with a curious raised brow, Logan with his arms crossed and an amused grin on his face. Great. “I mean, we can come back if you need your privacy.”
Charlie, loving the attention, smiles mischievously. “Oh no, we’re not afraid of public affection. Are we, baby?” She looks down at me and winks.
For a split second, I imagine that I have eyes that can shoot out painful darts, and I aim those eyes right at the center of Charlie’s forehead. Since nothing is happening, I crook my neck, focusing on Logan and his charming blue eyes. He yanks my chain by li
fting a hand and pointing his thumb behind him, silently questioning whether or not he should leave so Charlie and I can continue fooling around. Smart ass. He must have read my facial expression because his lips curl into a wide grin. An adorable grin. I shake my head. “No. It’s fine. What do you need?”
Bryson takes a step forward. “We won’t take much of your time,” he says. “We just wanted to apologize on behalf of Santino. It was unprofessional of him to treat you ladies that way. We’re sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“I don’t mind,” Charlie declares.
Bryson nods once. “Right. Either way it was out of line.”
It’s kind of sweet he cares enough to apologize. “Thank you. I appreciate that,” I say.
Logan, who hasn’t taken his eyes off of me, clears his throat. “We’d still like to invite you ladies to the lake house this weekend. It’s an annual event, and if you come and stay, we’ll make sure you have your own room.” He’s looking at me intently, almost intimately, as if this conversation is just between the two of us. “We also promise no more remarks by Santino or any of the guys. Just think about it.” They both smile reassuringly and turn away, walking in the direction of the soon-to-be guesthouse.
Charlie hops off my lap, releasing the pressure from my thighs. She sits beside me with concerned eyes. Goofy Charlie has been turned off and now caring, loving Charlie is on. “Talk to me.”
My head slams back on the headrest of the lounge chair. “I left Dr. Rosario.”
She places her hand on top of mine. “That must’ve been tough.”
“It was…is. I’m just confused by it all. I thought I would feel relieved, but I feel stuck.”
“That’s understandable. You’ve been with her for almost a year. When you adapt to someone, they become a part of your routine, a part of you. And when they’re taken away, you feel a bit lost. No matter how much you think it won’t affect your life, it does.” She sighs and turns her head away from me. I can’t make out her exact point of interest, but it seems like her gaze is lingering over Brooke’s bedroom window, the one right beside mine. “Do you think this is for the best?” she asks.
