When Sh*t Gets in the Way (When Life Gets in the Way Book 2)

by Ines Vieira

  “Fuck, Dave, what are you waiting for? Need a red carpet or something? Go!” Jason yells at him like he’s insane sticking around a moment longer after I placed him on the floor. Dave looks at Jason one more time wide-eyed and back again at me, uncertain if he should take a step towards his much-wanted exit. When he sees that no one’s moving out of his way, he moves toward Jason, thinking he’s the safest choice to push his way through.

  Yeah, I don't think so.

  “Hey Dave, just one more thing,” I say, trying to sound calm and collected. It must do the trick because the idiot turns around to face me. It's just too easy with this prick. Before he knows what hit him, I head butt the fucker with enough force that all four of us hear his nasal bone break. He falls to the floor whimpering covering his bloody nose and in tears. I kneel beside him and coldly whisper, “If I ever see you anywhere near Jessica again, believe me, that a broken nose will be the least of your troubles.” He’s too blinded by the pain, but his body closing in on itself is response enough for me to know he got the message. I stand and look over at Jason, whose giving me the ‘You happy now?’ face. No, not nearly, but it’ll have to do.

  “You’re going to have to teach me that move,” Jess says her voice trying to lighten the moment. I gain the courage to move my head in her direction, and in that second, I know this prick got off easy. Jess’s hair is a mess, her clothes are disheveled, and there are unshed tears in her eyes. The blond that Jason was hooking up with is doing her best to steady Jess on her feet, but she also looks petrified at what she just witnessed, shivering more than Jess. I lean into her, attempting to take over for the unsteady girl, and Jess willingly throws her arms over me. Dave is still on the ground crying like the bitch he is, but Jess doesn’t even give him another look. Her walk is uncoordinated, and I hold her close to my side, wrapping my arm around her back to steady her as we reach the stairs.

  “Never figured you for a lightweight,” I say trying to ease her discomfort. Her head leans over to my chest, and she smells like a strawberry field. Innocently sweet. So unlike Jess and yet I can't think of any other scent that fits her to a T. Vibrant, bright and uniquely different. She tries to take another step, but her legs wobble each attempt that she makes to hold herself up straight. A nagging feeling that her inebriation is a result of something much stronger than alcohol creeps up on me. Once she’s back to her snarky self, I’ll have to investigate this suspicion further. She misses another step and grunts out her exasperation at not having control over her body. I stop and lower my face to look at her. Her eyes are red, and her face is strained due to the alteration, and I wish I could make her smile that infectious smile that takes my breath away.

  “Do you trust me?” I ask softly while moving her hair away from her face. Soft brown goodness that feels like heaven to touch. I make a mental note to use any excuse I can come up with to touch her hair again. Those caramel eyes look up at me staring back into my eyes and something that I'm not used to spring free from them. Vulnerability and uncertainty.

  “No,” she hushes out and why that pierces my heart like a jagged knife, I don't know, but it does.

  “Well, we need to do something about that, don't we?” My smile is small, but that small hint of hope in her eyes breaks me more than her initial reply. Jesus this girl is getting under my skin in more ways than one. I press my lips to her forehead and linger there just a little longer to savor the feeling of her soft skin on my lips. My chest tightens, and I close my eyes, wishing that I could prolong the moment just a little further, but as soon as I think that, I force myself to move away. Even though she looks out of it, her puzzlement to my kiss still registers on her face. I lower my arm under her knees and bring her body up onto my chest. Her initial shock of me carrying her in my arms is short-lived, since I feel her pull herself closer to me by wrapping both arms around my neck. Again I am bombarded with her sweet scent, and it's doing things to me that have no business happening now. I slowly walk down the stairs and pick up that the party is still in full bloom. I grab my coat from the closet next to the main door. I place Jess back on the floor and carefully wrap her in my coat. Once it's nice and secure, I pick her up again. Not that she needs me to. We could have probably made it to the car, both of us on foot with her leaning on me if I’m honest with myself. But right now, I’m not being honest. If I were, then I would have to confess that having her cradled in my arms feels right somehow. Having her arms touching my chest, my neck, brushing my hair so lightly that she thinks I can't feel it, feels too fucking right to me.

  “Hey!! Hey!! What the hell is going on?” Drew yells out. I see him shuffle over the sway of all the bodies in the main room, trying his best to reach us. Instinctively I tighten my hold on Jess and am amazed when I feel her do the same by linking her hands together tighter around my neck. “What the hell is going on here?” Drew asks, this time reaching us and resting his hand on Jess’s face, which is responded to by a weak smile from Jess. I know I shouldn’t feel jealousy over her friend making sure that Jess is alright, but I have to fight hard for my growl not to escape my lips.

  “I need to take Jess home. She drank a bit too much tonight.”

  “Like hell she has! She’s only drunk a couple of beers. Jess can usually drink me under the table in a heartbeat.” Drew scowls and his hands are examining Jess’s body for any injuries. Each touch only pisses me off further and him confirming my earlier suspicion that Jess took something that she wouldn’t willingly take just amps my wrath.

  “Well as you can see, she’s not her usual self, now is she?” This time my growl is nice and clear and Drew finally is wise enough to take his hands off of Jess. He still ignores me though and holds Jess’s face in his hands.

  “Hey there my little grasshopper, how are you doing?” Seriously this guy is really getting on my last nerves with his nickname and stroking Jess’s cheek with his thumb shit. I hold her closer which only gets me a smirky roll of the eyes from Drew.

  “You okay, with this big gorilla taking you home, babe?” he teases, but his eyes are focused on Jess’s face, showing that he’s more worried than he wants to let on. Jess gives him a reassuring smile and nods. She leans her head closer to my chest, nestling into me and I can't help but feel victorious.

  “Okay, grasshopper. You call me first thing in the morning okay? First thing, Jess, okay?” His assertive tone is probably more directed at me than at Jess, but she nods again and closes her eyes.

  “You know where she lives?” Drew asks, but his voice is cold and completely lucid for a guy that’s been drinking the night away. I nod and make my way to the door ending this conversation. But before I can even put my hand on the door knob, Drew is already opening the door for us. Before I pass through, he puts his hand on my shoulder and leans into me, his face next to mine.

  “Now Quaid, I peg you for one of the good guys. If I’m wrong and Jess tells me something that I don’t want to hear tomorrow morning about how you were less than gentlemanly with her tonight, then I guarantee that you’ll be seeing me sooner rather than later. Trust me when I tell you that I’m not the forgiving type. We clear?” I turn to face him, eye to eye. His familiarity with Jess pissed me to no end, but him trying to protect her, just raised the bar for him in my book.

  “I promised her father that I would look after her, that’s what I’m doing. I’ll make sure that she calls you in the morning.” My confession takes him by surprise, but it must reassure him since he pats my shoulder and makes his way back to the party. Luckily my car is still across the street since I haven’t had the heart to put it back in the garage. I walk over to the passenger door and slide Jess onto the seat. I lean in to secure her with the seat belt when I feel her hand graze my left cheek. I squat down to give her full access to my face. This is the first time she’s touched me knowingly, so I find myself keeping still, letting her take full advantage. Her touch is soft fire, burning me from the inside out.

  “So, you promised my father. Is that why you w
on't leave me alone?” her eyes are cloudy, and her voice is laced with wants of drifting off to her much-desired slumber. I want to give her that peace of sleep, but selfishly I want to hold onto this moment too.

  “There may be other reasons, too.” It comes out a whisper because at the exact time my words come out, she sweeps her thumb across my lower lip. My own eyes drop and follow her finger, wondering where else will she be brave enough to touch. My chest tightens again for the hundredth time tonight.

  “When I was younger, I used to think that you were the prettiest boy I had ever seen,” she confesses. I smile even though she’s just shocked me in more ways than one.

  “Pretty? As always, you insult me and compliment me with just one word. So I’m no longer pretty, is that what you're saying?” Her eyes sag a little more, definitely losing the battle with her stupor that she so bravely fought off until now.

  “No, now I know that you’re the most beautiful man that I will ever meet.”

  But true to Jess fashion, as soon as I feel my ego soar through the roof with her revelation of how she sees me, she breaks me with her last whispered words before she succumbing to sleep. Words that end up breaking me in places long forgotten. Places that have been so closed off and hidden in the shadows, so far away from my thoughts this night that when she utters them, it's like they have always been right there, on the surface. Visible enough that Jess can touch them and make them bleed with just three little words.

  “A beautiful lie.”

  Chapter 13

  Jess

  The room is dark and loud, yet all I can concentrate on are the two figures before me. Two figures so entwined with each other that they don’t even see me watching. I don’t understand it, but I see myself placing my hands on his chest and leaning in to look him straight on in the eye. He grabs my hand and holds it to his chest. The act is rough from my viewpoint, but his touch makes me feel soft and cherished.

  “Don’t start something that you can’t finish. You’re used to boys. Boys you can control and easily push around. You won’t find that with me, Jess. When you grow up and become the woman that I know you can be, then come and see me. Not before,” he looks pained as he says it as if the pain he’s caused by his words are just as hurtful to him.

  “A girl you say...” the husky tone of my voice is unrecognizable. But I see my hand pull onto his belt buckle and bringing him even closer to me. I gasp at my aggressiveness. I’m a straight talker, but I’ve never been that in your face. What am I doing?

  “Would a girl be able to do this?” I hear myself say, and fumbly fingers feel the cool metal of his buckle. But before my hands even get started he stops me.

  “Yes, a girl would. One that was trying to show just how grown up she was. Stop embarrassing yourself.” I see my face redden with fury.

  “I hate you, Quaid Stevens. You are the biggest asshole I have ever met.” I hear me lash out and although the words seem familiar to me, I struggle to feel they are mine. I see myself lose my bravado as his lightning bolt stare fixes itself on my face.

  He leans in further, his breath right there in my ear and whispers, “I may be the biggest asshole you’ve ever met Jess, but you don’t hate me. Not even a little bit and that’s what annoys the shit out of you the most." With a smirk, he disappears from both our sights.

  Well, what the hell was that?

  I force myself to open my eyes, still unsettled by the dream. That’s new. Apparently, Quaid not only torments my thoughts, but he's also in my subconscious now, too. Pointing out all my flaws, no less. I have got to get it together. Even though my eyes are open, staring at the ceiling, something feels off though, and the dream is no longer what I should be concerned about. It’s the ceiling. It's too big. My room’s ceiling isn’t this big. I can cross from one side to the other without having to move my neck once. But I’ll need to move now just to grasp at how huge this ceiling is. And high. Yep, definitely higher than my dorm room. So if I’m not in my bedroom, where the hell am I? What the hell?

  Okay, Jess, deep breath and move.

  I turn to the left, and immediately I see that my first assessment was correct. Besides that, there is more space in this king sized bed than I could ever hope to have in my dorm. Even back home, my bed is only a double, so yeah, the difference pops out. When they say that size doesn’t matter, they weren’t talking about beds, trust me. This bed alone is to die for. I can stretch to my fullest and still not touch the tip of the bed. Feeling like Goldilocks in bed just right, is not enough to ease the building tension I feel.

  Okay, think! Think god damn it! Where could I be? Why am I here?

  Definitely not kidnapped. Only if my kidnapper is some rich old man that loves to sail. Seriously, what's with all the boats? Every shelf I see has some sort of boat memorabilia. Boats in bottles, pictures of boats sailing the high sea, I wouldn’t be surprised to see a bloody buoy or copies of Moby Dick laying around. Still, it's tastefully done, if you like that sort of thing. Okay, so the left side of the room doesn’t have an exit, only a mahogany desk, and shelves with all those boat miniatures that must have taken someone days, weeks, if not months to finish. I move to the right hoping to at least see a door out of this place, and I am bombarded with three things. The first one is that the other side of the room is all windows. Floor to ceiling windows with the most amazing view this side of New York. I don’t have to be a local to identify the Hudson, and that is most certainly the Hudson River, dark and true as the night sky above it.

  The second is the person who is laying down on a black leather futon, again bigger than my own bed back at the dorm. Peacefully incognizant of my stare and shock, lies a tranquil Quaid under those same stars that the window allows to seep in so perfectly.

  The third and final thing I face is all that happened last night. I close my eyes and try to recall as much as I can. I remember dancing with Izzy and not feeling well. Thinking that I needed to splash some water on my face since I was burning up, I let my friend continue to dance and asked around for a bathroom. The one on the first floor had a line that would be hell to wait for, so I took a shot and went upstairs. Not even two doors down, I had found one, but a couple beat me to it and got in. I don’t even think they saw me. Feeling sluggish, I sat down on the floor next to the bathroom door and waited patiently for the two kids inside to get done with their heavy petting. I must have dozed off without even knowing it because before I know it I feel a sweaty hand run up my leg. Then another on my stomach, trying to lift up my shirt. My limbs feel heavy, but I still try to swat him away. But my arms almost feel too numb to react, and I hear the shadowed figure in front of me shush me to silence, and that shocks me also. With every uncoordinated defense, his hands seem surer, eager even.

  Then I hear a roar. An honest lion’s roar stills the evil in front of me. I lift my chin high enough with all my remaining strength and see a vengeful angel pick up my aggressor like he was a feather. The fury in his voice chilled my bones and warmed my insides all at the same time.

  Then I feel another pair of delicate hands, and kind eyes and my first instinct is to move away. But the hands aren’t cruel or intrusive. They offer assistance. A girl that looks almost as frightened as I feel, smiles shyly while helping me get back on my feet. Her hair is almost the same color as my best friend Cassandra, and somehow that makes me trust her, even when she gave no indication she was there to cause me any harm. I still hear the rage in my protector’s voice, so close to losing his mind, that if I don’t say something now, he might darken that pure heart of his with what his hands might do. What they ache to do.

  “Quaid...Quaid, take me home.”

  I knew my words reached him and minutes later I’m in my avenging protector’s arms and although I tell him I don’t trust him, I have never felt this safe. Everything else falls into the background; I don’t remember how I got here. I don’t even know where here is, but I remember the shelter his arms provided. I remember holding tight to this haven with all the
might I still had in me. I remember an agitated peace.

  “Jess?” he hushes, and I feel a knee being placed on the bed next to me, but I don’t move. My eyes are still closed, but I feel the tears that are falling reach my hairline, my ears, my neck. They reach down to my very soul, as silent as I am. That’s when I feel those arms again, cradling me. I don’t say anything, and neither does he. He just continues to rock me back and forth, running his fingers through my hair, as I grab his shirt with both hands and continue to cry. My sobs are incoherent whispers but proof of my current misery. I let myself touch it. Feel its weight. Taste its bitterness. I do this knowing that this will be the only time I will let myself feel it because as soon as the sun rises on that New York skyline, I vow never to be defenseless again.

  Chapter 14

  Quaid

  When I open my eyes, the stars are dimly saying their goodbyes as the sky turns from dark black to blue. But what catches my eye is the girl who is frantically looking around at the floor.

  “You’re up,” I say.

  “Obviously,” she retorts.

  “What are you looking for?" I ask as I stretch my arms over my head on the pillow. I must have fallen asleep right after her. It amazes me that the controlled, even though agitated, girl before me was a slobbering mess a couple of hours ago. Now she looks like a woman on a mission looking for god knows what and restless that she can’t find it.