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Whisper of Surrender

Page 14

by Melanie Shawn


  “Resting bitch face,” she grinned.

  Ah, he saw where she was going with this. “And RGF is resting—”

  “—grumpy face.” She cut in, clearly proud of herself. “Yes. You, sir, suffer from RGF. It’s okay. I hear one in ten men experience RGF. I think there might be a pill for it.” She pretended to be putting great thought into something then snapped her fingers. “There is, it’s called a chill pill.”

  Even when she was giving him a hard time, or especially when she was giving him a hard time, all he wanted to do was push her against a wall and kiss her senseless. He inhaled slowly through his nose, resisting the urge to do just that as she bopped past him with a satisfied expression on her face.

  He opened the door and she walked through it, glancing over her shoulder as she did, “Oh and I also told Ali about our,” she lifted her fingers and made air quotes, “relationship.”

  He stared at her, not sure how to respond. It was clear that she thought he’d be upset with her, but he couldn’t care less who she told. This entire thing wasn’t really to keep the matchmakers out of his hair, it was just to get close to Jess while her guard was down, but she didn’t know that.

  She pointed at him. “See. Grumpy. You should really look into getting those pills.”

  With that, she spun and headed up the stairway. He didn’t mind the view at all. Today she was wearing loose sweats with a drawstring waist and a shirt that landed just below her rib cage. The clothing highlighted her hourglass figure.

  He’d spent a lot of time studying every inch of Jess’s body this past weekend and while he loved every single part of her, his favorite real estate might be her torso. He was borderline obsessed with the way her waist pinched in at the center and flared out at her hips. And Ethan was happy that he was going to have an excuse to touch it for the next two hours.

  “Hello, Miss Penelope,” Jess said brightly as they made their way into the rehearsal space.

  Ethan raised his hand in greeting, less enthusiastically than his dance partner. The upside of the next one hundred and twenty minutes was that he’d be with Jess. The downside was, they had a chaperone.

  But, hey that was the price he had to pay, and he was more than happy to cough up the dough.

  “You’re late,” Miss Penelope snapped.

  Both Jess and Ethan’s eyes shot to the clock hanging above the center mirror. It showed it was two minutes past six. That was downright early for Jess, but he didn’t feel either woman would appreciate him pointing that out.

  “Oh, I’m sorry-”

  “Sorry is not acceptable. My time is valuable and if you don’t respect it then-”

  “It’s my fault, Miss Penelope.” Ethan instinctively took a step forward, so that he was in the drill instructor’s line of fire. “I was held up at work. I’m on a task force, and we were tracking down a violent offender who murdered two innocent people. There was a standoff when we went to apprehend him, and I was injured.” Ethan pulled up his shirt to show the bruise that he’d sustained when he’d been shot.

  He heard Jess gasp quietly beside him.

  “I haven’t slept or eaten in thirty-six hours, but I’m here because I do respect your time.” He was here because he respected Jess and wanted to see her, but Miss Hardass didn’t need to know that.

  “Well, then,” Miss Penelope cleared her throat and looked unsure of how to respond, “let’s get to work.” Then she crossed the room toward her music player. “Do a few moments of the connecting exercise and then stretch.”

  He turned to face Jess, expecting her to mouth a thank you or a nice save but instead he saw that she was looking up at him with tears pooled in her bottom lids.

  “Hey,” He touched the side of her face and ran his thumb along her soft cheek and whispered, “It’s okay, she’s not mad any-”

  Jess swatted his hand away from her and her expression morphed to anger. “I don’t care about her! Why didn’t you tell me you got hurt?”

  “It’s not a big deal. I’ve been shot-”

  “You got shot?!” Her voice cracked and whatever he still had left of his heart was transferred to her in that instant. And when he saw her lip tremble he knew that any chance he’d ever had of getting it back was over. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” He took her hand and pressed it to his chest covering it with his own. It was something that his dad had done for him when Ethan had been scared of him getting hurt. “Do you feel that? I’m fine.”

  Her eyes softened for a moment before narrowing as she tugged her arm away and slapped his arm.

  “What was that for?”

  “For getting shot.” She said as she sat on the floor and spread her legs apart in a stretch he was very much a fan of. She lowered her body between her outstretched legs, spreading her arms out in front of her and her head lifted up so she could look at him. “Don’t do it again and if you do, tell me.”

  “Okay.”

  “Promise me.”

  “I promise.”

  “Mr. Steele,” The drill sergeant called out. “Less talking, more stretching.”

  “You got me in trouble,” he whispered as he bent over and touched his toes.

  “You are trouble.” There was a seriousness in her tone that if he’d had a moment alone with her, he’d have followed up on, but he didn’t get the chance.

  As soon as rehearsal was over, Jess hightailed it to her car. He followed behind, giving her the space she wanted but he’d expected her to stop at some point. Once they made it to the parking lot, Miss Penelope joined them and asked if Ethan would escort her to her house two blocks away since he was a man of the law.

  He agreed, of course, and asked Jess to wait for him. She didn’t. Before he made it back to the parking lot, she’d texted him that she was tired and they could talk later.

  Thankfully, he was a patient man.

  CHAPTER 18

  “One dollar.” Jess held out her hand, collecting the money at the Kissing Booth, that as per Whisper Lake tradition was manned by a dog. This year’s pooch of choice was Ali and Kade’s dog, Dumbass.

  Chrissy Caldwell’s daughter, Kimber, handed Jess a dollar and giggled as she walked up and leaned forward. Right on cue, Dumbass leaned forward and gave her a big, juicy kiss across her cheek. The giggles continued as he gave her three more.

  Ali tugged on his leash, pulling him back after a few moments. This wasn’t Jess’s first trip to the Dog Kissing Booth. She’d been in charge of it for the past five years, and Dumbass was turning out to be a breakout star. He was made to give people kisses.

  In years past, every other dog had required them handing out treats to the patrons to entice the dog to give a kiss, but not Dumbass. Ali had to hold him back from slobbering over the entire town.

  As much as Jess was enjoying being stationed in the shade with her best friend and the best canine kisser in Whisper Lake, Jess’s mind kept wandering to the best kisser that walked upright in Whisper Lake.

  It had been two weeks since their trip to Chicago. Over that time they’d texted, had two dance rehearsals, and even talked on the phone a couple of times. But there had been zero lip-locking. And none of their talks had been about the huge elephant in the room with the Flavor-Flav-sized clock around its neck counting down the minutes until their fake relationship expired. It was the fourth of July. Tomorrow was the Battle of the Badges. It would also be their one-month anniversary.

  “Thanks, Dumbass.” Kimber giggled some more.

  “Kimber!” Chrissy snapped from a few feet away. “What did I tell you about that.”

  “But that’s his name, Momma.”

  Kimber made what Jess felt was a very good point, so she backed the seven-year-old up. “Yeah Priss—I mean Chrissy. That’s his name.”

  If looks could kill, the one Chrissy shot Jess before calling Kimber over and hustling her away would’ve done the job that her old ticker hadn’t been able to.

  In school, Chrissy had earned the nickname Prissy Chri
ssy, and it had stuck.

  “Are you ever going to give Chrissy a break?” Ali asked as she filled Dumbass’s bowl with fresh water.

  “Yes. Just as soon as she removes the stick that is currently residing up her butt.”

  Ali smiled but rolled her eyes. Then she glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one was around. Everyone at the festival had already migrated down to the shore to get the best seats for the fireworks.

  “So, how are things going with, you know who?”

  “You can say his name, Ali. Remember, he’s my boyfriend?”

  “Oh right, Sorry. It’s confusing.”

  “Yeah, it is.” That was the understatement of the century.

  At Jess’s answer, Ali’s expression turned from curious to sympathetic. “So things aren’t great?”

  “They’re not anything.” Jess could feel the frustration that she’d been feeling for the past couple of weeks boil up in her. “It’s like nothing happened in Chicago. We don’t talk about it.”

  “Well, what about after tomorrow?”

  “We don’t talk about that either.”

  The plan had been to split up after the talent show. Not immediately, but soon after. That was what they’d agreed on. But that night on her couch felt like a lifetime ago, and neither of them had brought it up.

  “We don’t talk about anything. We haven’t seen each other.”

  “What about dance rehearsals?”

  “That’s it. And he walks me to my car and then walks our dance instructor home.”

  “Aww, that’s nice.”

  “Don’t go giving him any Brownie points just yet. She lives a couple blocks away.”

  “Still,” Ali maintained. “Okay, so why don’t you walk with him?”

  “What?”

  “Walk with him to take her home and then you guys could talk on the way back to your cars.”

  “I don’t know.” Jess shrugged.

  “Have you asked him to talk?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?” Ali asked a logical enough question, but Jess felt anything but logical.

  As she thought back over the past couple of weeks, she had to admit he had made an effort more than she had. He’d offered to stop by the night after she’d found out he’d been shot. Seeing him hurt had thrown her for a loop the likes of which took a few days to recover from. She’d been mad at him. Really mad. It was a strange emotion to feel about someone who (kind of) almost died, and Jess tried to figure out why she’d had that reaction—which turned out to be fear.

  It was the first time she understood why her dad would always seem so upset with her. She used to ask her mom, “Is dad mad at me?” and her mom would always tell her, “No, sweetie, he’s just scared.” She got it now.

  Seeing the bruise on Ethan’s ribs terrified her and she felt helpless. Her mind jumped to all the things that could’ve happened to him, and that made her angrier and more scared. It was a vicious cycle that had taken her a few days to recover from.

  Once she did, she felt proud of herself for examining her emotions and resolving her issues like the mature woman that she was. She’d told herself that the next time he asked to see her, she’d agree. One small problem with that plan: he never asked. Not for an entire week. Then, a couple of days ago, he’d texted around eight o’clock at night to see if she wanted to grab pizza.

  By that time she’d been missing him for seven days and wondering why he hadn’t been trying to see her and, well, she was butthurt about it, so she told him she wasn’t hungry.

  So much for the whole mature woman thing.

  “Hello,” Ali waved her hand in front of Jess’s face. “Why haven’t you talked to him?”

  Because instead of Jesus taking the wheel, I let my pride take that sucker, and it drove me straight to Lonely City. Is what she thought. What she answered with was the classic, “I don’t know.”

  “Why haven’t you just sat him down and asked him, point blank, what is going on between you two?”

  “Because this was his idea.” Jess wasn’t going to be the needy girl asking for clarity on their “relationship.”

  “So. Since when do you care whose idea something is? Do you remember when we were eight and I thought I could be a dress designer and I got all that material from Goodwill and started trying to make patterns out of toilet paper? You stopped production, grabbed construction paper, and saved my first line.

  “Or how about when I decided that I was going to throw an Anti-Prom and I started handwriting those awful invitations, and you stopped me, created amazing ones in Photoshop, and got Puck to agree to DJ and Pizza, Pizza to donate four pies before I even finished making the invite list.”

  “I’m resourceful.” Jess shrugged.

  “Yes, you are. And you don’t wait around for other people to figure stuff out. You—”

  “He asked me because he knew I wouldn’t get attached,” Jess finally blurted out. She’d intentionally left that part out when she’d told Ali what was going on with her and Ethan.

  “What?”

  Jess lowered her voice. They were the only two people left in the area, but she still wanted to be cautious. And what she was about to admit was a little embarrassing, since it had backfired. Big time. “He said that the reason he asked me was because he knew I wouldn’t get attached. That’s why he didn’t ask Laura or Kennedy. He said he didn’t want to lead anyone on.”

  Ali stared at her blankly for what felt like an eternity before she burst out laughing.

  Her friend had never been cruel before or taken joy in other people’s pain, so Jess wondered why Ali had chosen this moment to start.

  “Why is that funny?”

  “He said that he asked you because he knew you wouldn’t get attached and you believed him?”

  “Why would he say-”

  “Because, he’s been in love with you since…forever and you’ve never given him the time of day,” Ali said it as if it were as obvious as the sky being blue or the grass being green.

  “Ruff,” Dumbass barked because he sensed that his mom was getting excited.

  “See, even Dumbass knows.” Ali scratched the dog behind his ears.

  Jess shook her head. That couldn’t be true. Ethan was too straightforward. Which was why, even though Ali had always insisted that he had feelings for her, Jess had never truly believed it. “If Ethan had feelings for me, he would’ve said something.”

  “Okay. So let’s play that out. Two months ago? Six months ago? A year ago? Hell, five years ago, Ethan comes to your house, or runs into you at the Gas ’N Go, or sees you at a festival and asks you out, what do you say?”

  Jess knew the answer, but she didn’t want to say it because she hated being wrong.

  “Speaking of which, why have you always acted like you don’t like him when obviously, you do?”

  “I was mad at him, and I held a grudge.”

  “About what?”

  “It was stupid.”

  “Most grudges are.”

  “Do you remember freshman year when I got sent home the first day of school because I passed out in the hallway?”

  Ali nodded slowly.

  “He was the one that ratted me out. He found me in the hallway and he promised not to tell anyone about—”

  Ali clasped her hand over her mouth and began shaking her head.

  “What?” Jess asked.

  “He didn’t tell, I did.” Her words were mumbled behind her palm.

  “You did?!”

  “Yes.” She nodded and dropped her hand. “When you came back to first period and said you’d passed out, I got scared, so I went to tell the nurse before second period. I know you didn’t want anyone to know, but I was scared that you were going to die because you wanted to go to school.”

  “I can’t believe all these years I thought…and it was you.”

  “Sorry. But at least now you know that you can’t be mad at him about that. You can be mad at me.”

  “I�
��m not mad at you.” Jess sighed. “And I’m not mad at him. I think I was embarrassed that he found me like that. And being angry that he betrayed me was just an excuse I used because I liked him and it freaked me out.”

  “Then that’s good news,” Ali exclaimed.

  “How is that good news?”

  “Because, now that you’ve admitted how you feel, to yourself, that means that you guys can actually be together.”

  “I still don’t know how he feels.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “You’re too close to the situation. Take yourself out of this equation. Look at his behavior objectively. He starts running by your house, shirtless. Patrolling the area around your shop at the time he knows you close. Randomly showing up at events we both know he wouldn’t have gone to—”

  “What events?” Jess asked, skeptically.

  She lifted her hand and started counting on her fingers. “The art exhibit. The film festival. The ballet. The NSYNC/BSB cover band-”

  “Okay, okay.” Jess lifted her hand. Now that she thought about it, over the past few years, Ethan had started showing up at more and more events that he had no interest in.

  She always gave him a hard time about being there. Joking around about where his tutu was, and if he was a Justin or a Nick fan.

  “And you two have always had this…connection. Everyone can see it.”

  She was right again. There was something between them, more than just physical. He’d opened up to her in the city. Told her things he said he’d never told anyone else. And he said that he’d always wanted to kiss her again.

  “Me thinks she is finally seeing the light, Dumbass,” Ali spoke in a bad maybe-British accent as she patted the dog’s head.

  “But then why hasn’t he done anything? Said anything? We’re supposed to be dating, and I haven’t even seen him.”

  A sly grin tugged at her lips. “And it’s driving you crazy. If he’d been around all the time, would you be wondering what he was thinking right now? Would you be wondering if what you felt for him was real or not? Would you be going out of your mind wanting answers?”

  Jess thought about what Ali was saying, and it all made sense. “That little shit.”

 

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