by Jean Haus
“What?” She sits back, her lips twisting. “You sat on the couch and sucked face like teenagers?”
I snatch the doughnut from her hand.
“Hey!”
I take a big bite, and through a mouthful of sugar I say, “I actually, embarrassingly, had a lovely orgasm in our kitchen.”
She pulls back, eyebrows raised. “From sucking face?”
“Shut up.” I toss the rest of the doughnut at her but she misses catching it by a mile.
She snatches the pink mess from the ground and picks pieces of grass from the frosting. “Went on a walk, huh?”
I shrug. “It was nice. We talked about Ben, his music, and my parents. His parents sound like rich jerks, but he isn’t.” Ben rounds the slide again.
Holly flicks a pebble off the doughnut.
Frowning at the pink disaster, I say, “Why don’t you get a different one?”
I get the infamous Holly “duh” look. “Because this one is pink.” She nibbles at the pastry, then says, “He sounds like he’s really into you, Al.”
My fingers flip open the box. “Yeah, I’m starting to worry about that.” What I don’t say aloud is that I’m worried about how my feelings for him are growing too.
“Why?”
I snag a cinnamon twist. “Everyone tells me I need to date. Everyone tells me to get out and have fun. And Justin is fun. But he’s not someone for the future.”
She sighs dramatically. “Just have fun. Justin’s a big boy. Quit worrying about everyone else and worry about your—no, scratch that. Just have fun. No worries. You’re twenty-two not frigging thirty.” She pops the rest of the pink mess into her mouth.
“Twenty-two and a mother.” I sigh and toss the twist back into the box. “I don’t know. Guess I’m worried about things turning serious.”
“News flash.” Holly waves her hand in front of my face. “You’re not getting married. You’re not even in serious territory. You’re having fun.” She leans back. “Geez. I swear sometimes it’s like Trevor sucked all the life out of you.”
“Well, I’m seeing Justin again on Tuesday. To have fun,” I say, jabbing her with an elbow. “We’re meeting for coffee, okay? I’m not running away like normal.”
“Coffee? How romantic,” she says sarcastically.
“It’s a bit hard to plan whirlwind dates when I have a child to take care of.”
Holly flicks a wrist. “Go out. I’ll watch the little terror.”
“Thanks, but between school and work, I don’t feel like I’m home enough.”
“Oh, Allie, you’re the best mom ever.” She grabs my hand and squeezes it. “If anyone deserves some fun, it’s you.”
I squeeze her hand back. “I thought Trevor was fun, Holly, but look where that got me.” I glance at my son climbing the slide steps. “Though I wouldn’t trade Ben for all the pain in the world.”
“Forget about Trevor. He’s the past. And he’s an asshole.” She forces my hand open and shoves the cinnamon twist into it. “You’re going to start living, dammit.” She stands and hauls a bag of old bread out of her hoodie pocket. “Come on, Ben! Let’s go feed the ducks!”
Nibbling on the delicious sugary twist, I grab the doughnut box and follow them to the mucky pond across a stone bridge covered in goose crap. We throw bread at the ducks floating in the mud-colored water and are soon surrounded by birds squawking at us for food. Holly starts backing away in terror, which sends Ben and me into a fit of giggles. She throws the bag of bread at us and we finish feeding the ducks, still laughing, while Holly retreats to a bench behind us.
The walk back to our apartment complex is along a trail that used to be railroad tracks, and it takes about twenty minutes. Ben rides circles around us while Holly whines about the killer ducks. Unfortunately, when we get to the front of our building, Trevor is there, waiting and leaning on Jazz’s car. She’s driven the same stupid Trans Am since high school. Good thing the skank isn’t in sight.
Of course, Ben yells, “Daddy!” He drops his bike and runs over to Trevor.
“Hey,” Trevor says, messing Ben’s curls.
“What’s with the car?” Holly asks.
He glances at her dismissively. “Mine’s in the shop.” His gaze roams over me. “Thought we could all go out for ice cream.”
I frown at the car as I imagine how many times he and Jazz have had sex in it. “I’m not getting in that.”
He shrugs. “We can take yours.”
“I have homework to do, but I’m sure Ben would love to go out for ice cream.”
His smile fades. “I want to take both of you.”
“Yeah, Mom, you should come with us,” Ben says from Trevor’s side.
Bending to pick up the bike Ben left on the sidewalk, I say, “Sorry, have to paint. Holly’s supposed to pose for me tonight.”
Holly nods vigorously and strikes a pose with her hand on her hip, fluttering her lashes.
Trevor ignores her. “Then maybe we can bring back dinner instead. Pizza?”
Ben nods yes and I don’t have the heart to say no. “Okay, but remember it’s a school night.”
Trevor opens the door for Ben. “Oh, we’ll be back soon.”
He starts the engine and I wave to them with my free hand. Through a fake smile, I ask Holly, “You can go to Jake’s later right? And stay for pizza?” I need a Trevor buffer big time.
She frowns. “What? I hate that asshole.”
“Half off on your next tattoo?”
She grins. “You bet your sweet ass I’m staying for dinner.”
Chapter 21
Justin
On Tuesday morning, I race to the coffee shop. Finding time to spend with Allie is hard enough as it is, and now my stupid ass is running late. It took me twenty minutes to find a pair of halfway clean jeans in the piles of clothes littering my room. Wrapped up in Allie, I haven’t been doing my flirtatious rounds across campus. Thus my laundry ladies haven’t shown up for a week. And since I can’t imagine making those kinds of rounds again—flirting with other girls kind of turns my stomach—guess I’ll be hitting the basement in the dorm later.
The coffee shop is half full of students talking and studying. I notice Allie, in pigtails, sitting at a table in the back, and it crosses my mind that doing my own laundry might not be so bad. Then I notice the guy standing by her and stalk over there faster than I moved across campus. The douche bag pauses midsentence as I glare across the table at him.
“Hey, Justin,” Allie says. “This is Greg Gains from my watercolor class.”
I don’t say anything. I simply glare at watercolor boy, who is standing way too close to my girl.
He gets a clue and steps back. “Aren’t you the singer for that band…?”
“Luminescent Juliet,” Allie fills in while giving me a level look.
“Yeah, that’s it,” Greg says, bopping his head like an idiot. “I saw you guys at the Razor on New Year’s Eve. Great show.”
I just nod.
Finally noticing the tension in the air, he yanks his beat-up backpack from a stool. “Guess I should get going.”
No shit, dickhead.
Allie smiles weakly. “See you in class on Thursday.”
I pull a stool close to hers as Allie glares at me.
“What?” I ask, trying to downplay my obvious annoyance.
“Don’t ever do that again.”
“Huh?” I ask innocently.
“You know perfectly well what.”
My booted foot finds the top rung of the stool and I wrap an arm around my knee. “He was practically sniffing your hair.”
Her glare continues as she turns her computer toward me. There’s a row of flowery paintings on the screen. “We were looking at these and discussing them because we have to comment on them online. For class.”
> “Well, he didn’t have to get that close to discuss, did he?”
“Justin,” Allie says evenly, “I’ve been warding off men for over two years. I’m practically a pro at it. Do not go caveman on me. I do not appreciate it.”
I lower my knee. “Caveman?”
Nodding, she twists the paper coffee cup between her hands. I give the cup, then her, a slow, assessing look. She takes a sip. “Let it go. I buy my own coffee. Women’s lib and all that.”
“Is that what women’s liberation is all about?” I lower my elbow to the table and rest my chin in my palm. “Here I thought it was about equality and shit, but it’s just about buying coffee and talking to watercolor boys.”
She smiles. “Yep, it’s sisters doing it for themselves.”
My brows rise. “Really, whatcha doing to yourself?”
She blushes but her smile turns into a smirk. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Hell yes.” Unable to resist, I remove the cocky grin from her mouth with a quick kiss. “You know, I don’t like coffee unless it’s on you.”
She checks to see if anyone is watching us.
“Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed by a little public affection,” I growl.
Her fingers grasp the edge of the table. “It’s been a while. I’m not used to it, so be patient with me.”
I reach for her hand. Unfortunately, a stack of papers slaps on the table in front of me before I can touch her. With fists on her hips, Lila stands across from us. “Well hello, Justin.”
What the hell is this? It’s like they come out of the woodwork whenever I’m with Allie on campus.
Lila gestures to the papers. “I’ve been carrying these around, hoping I’d run into you.” Her lips curl into a sneer. “Because you can do your own damn paper.” Her eyes flash from me to Allie. “Or maybe she can do it for you. But if you aren’t going to return my calls, I’m done being your homework bitch.” She whirls away in a huff and stomps out of the coffee shop.
People around us stare. I ignore them but Allie appears embarrassed. I catch her hand and hold it underneath the table. “Part of the charm of being with me, I’m afraid. My baggage might be endless for a while, but like she said, I haven’t called her.”
Allie tugs her hand away and rests it on top of the table. “If you weren’t such a jackass, then there wouldn’t be all this baggage.”
I grab her hand again and bring it up for a quick kiss. Her gray eyes blaze smoke at me but I don’t let go. “You need to be patient with me too. After years of being a jackass, I can’t change overnight. And my past, no matter how much I want it to, isn’t going to go away. But my past is past. And the future is full of possibilities. I want to be with you and only with you.”
Her lips are a thin line until she lets out a sigh. “We should stop meeting on campus. Too much of your past is present here.”
“You might have something there.” I finally let go of her hand and cross my arms. “How about letting me surprise you again on Saturday night?”
“I can’t leave work early again. And Ben’s not going to my parents’ as usual, so I have to get home for the babysitter.”
“What about Friday?”
“Babysitter again.”
My arms tighten across my chest. “Sunday?”
“No, we’re going to—” She stops abruptly.
I can’t help think she’s going somewhere with Trevor, which has me crazy insane. My chin drops as I glower at her. “What’s going on Sunday?”
Her gaze flicks to the screen of the computer still open on the table. “Nothing. After church and dinner at my parents’, Holly and I usually do something with Ben on Sundays.”
“Oh.” When we went for a walk the night she cooked dinner, she explained why she doesn’t want Ben to meet me until we’ve dated for a while. I get it. Kids need stability. And I’m willing to spend time together around her time with Ben and work. Yet being last on her list makes me feel like she punched me in the gut or something.
She frowns as she watches me.
The dejection inside of me grows. I’m used to it. Trying to hide my obvious hurt expression, I ask, “How about I make you breakfast next week at your place? Monday?” I add, knowing it’s her day off.
After nodding, she bites her lip ring while she slowly closes her computer. “Maybe you can meet up with us on Sunday? Like, pretend to run into us and I can introduce you as a friend from school?”
I really do want to meet her son since he’s the most important part of her life, but I don’t want to push her. “I thought you wanted to wait a while.”
“It’s not that I don’t want him to meet you.” Her fingers drum on the table. “I don’t want him to know we’re dating. Things like that are a big deal for a kid.”
“Where are you going?”
“State park, to explore some trails and picnic.”
“Wouldn’t it be a bit odd? Me running into you out there?”
She shakes her head. “Ben’s smart, but he’s five, Justin. He wouldn’t find it odd at all.”
“All right. Nature’s not my thing, but to see you, I’ll explore it to the fullest.”
Allie is smirking at me when Riley plops her backpack down on the table and sets a huge blueberry muffin on top of it. “Hey, Justin.” She looks from me to Allie, eyebrows wiggling. “Who’s your new friend?”
I’m guessing Allie thinks that Riley is another blast from my past, based on the sour expression on her face.
Unable to stop a grin, I say, “This is Allie. Tattooist extraordinaire. And this is Riley, ex-drummer of Luminescent Juliet and our guitar player’s girlfriend.” I shoot Allie a smug look that says, See? I haven’t screwed the entire female population on campus. Sure, at one point I did make a move on Riley, but that was to get Romeo’s perfectionist panties in a twist more than anything. It was obvious he had it bad for the girl from the first moment she walked into our audition. After a couple of band practices, it was clear she had it bad for him too. I pretty much knew from the start it was a no go.
Allie’s expression softens as Riley scoots onto the stool across from us. “As of now, I’m the current drummer of the Bleached Blondes, the best two-member band you’ve never heard of. Or maybe we’ll be called Rowdy. Or possibly the Brassy Dolls.” She frowns. “Obviously, the name is a work in progress.”
I frown. “What are you talking about?”
Riley grins slyly. “I’m starting a band. Romeo’s helping me with auditions. I’m hoping it will be an all-girl band, but hey, if that doesn’t work out, boys may be welcome. As long as they like loud and fast.”
“All-girl sounds cool,” Allie murmurs.
“Why the hell would you do that?” I ask, slapping my hand on the table. “Why don’t you come back to us?” I’d love to get rid of ass-wipe Gabe.
Riley pauses from tearing the paper wrapper off her muffin. “You worried about the competition?”
“Ha. No. I’d like to get rid of the dick behind the drums. I’d rather deal with you and Romeo making out in between sets than him.”
Riley’s head shakes and her ever-present dark brown blonde-streaked ponytail swings behind her. “I’m not doing that to Gabe.”
“Why not?” I snap.
“Because you and Romeo would be at each other’s throats again if Gabe wasn’t around, so I can’t take his spot. Besides, you should give Gabe some credit. He’s been working really hard, Justin.”
“At being an asshole,” I say under my breath.
Riley tosses her muffin paper at me. “We’re not going to be anything as serious as Luminescent.” She catches the paper I whip back at her and turns to Allie. “So how long have you been inking?”
“Over six years.”
The muffin pauses on the way to Riley’s mouth. “You must be good.”
�
��She’s better than good. Check this out,” I say, turning and lifting my T-shirt.
Riley lets out a low whistle. “That is awesome. If I ever get the courage, I know where to go.”
Allie digs out a card from her bag and slides it across the table. “With the right artist, it’s not that painful.”
We spend the next half hour talking ink and music and school. Riley doesn’t leave, which is on the verge of irritating me. I don’t get to spend much time with Allie as it is. But in the end, it’s not too bad. I like Riley, and miss her being in the band, and she and Allie have hit it off.
When it’s time for both Riley and me to take off for afternoon classes, Allie packs her stuff too and walks us out. After saying good-bye to Allie, Riley goes to read the message board outside the shop. The kiss I give Allie feels way too quick, and I promise to call her.
As I’m watching her walk toward the parking lot, Riley comes to my side. “I really like her, but you’d better not screw this up with your manwhoring ways, Justin.”
“Rile, I’m a changed man.”
She lets out a harrumph of disbelief.
I hoist my backpack to my shoulder. “Since I met her I’ve been as celibate as your man was back in the day.”
Riley’s eyes just about pop out of their sockets. “No shit?”
“No shit,” I say, understanding her skepticism.
“Huh.” She lets out a low whistle and glances at the empty sidewalk where Allie had disappeared around the corner. “Maybe I should be worried about you.”
“Huh? I thought you wanted me to stop my manwhoring ways.”
Forcing a smile, she says, “Forget it. Come on. We’re both in the Lit building.”
“Bullshit,” I say, following her. “Why would you say that?”
She shrugs. “You’ve never been close enough to someone to get hurt.”
“Why are you assuming she’s going to hurt me?” My tone is exasperated.
Just as we separate to avoid a group of students in the middle of the sidewalk, she says over her shoulder, “I’m not, but things don’t always work out like we want them to.”
When we rejoin on the other side of the little crowd, I let out a huff. “Just because you and Romeo have had problems doesn’t mean everyone will.”
