Inhale, Exhale

by Sarah M. Ross

  I sighed and shook my head. “I’ll have to check to see if my boyfriend will be back. We’re supposed to go camping.”

  “Well, bring him! It’ll be fun,” Tonya insisted.

  This girl was driving me crazy. Sure, she had a few drinks, but couldn’t she take a hint? “We’ll see.”

  With Grant gone and my hormones settled, the reality of what I’d done tonight began to settle. I needed to go home and figure out what to do next. I couldn’t let this happen again.

  After walking to the car and sinking down in the driver’s seat, everything from the evening caught up with me. The reality of my idiotic behavior over a stupid crush on some cute guy settled in. I groaned and banged my head on the steering wheel, muttering, “stupid, stupid girl.” I had to stop this—now, before I did something I really regretted. I wanted more than anything to talk to Ava or Trish about this. I craved their advice and wished they weren’t at camp. I needed my girls. But that wasn’t possible, so I pulled out my phone and texted Christian.

  I missed U 2nite XOXO

  Christian: I missed U2

  Me: How’s the gig?

  Christian: Eh. Not as great as we’d hoped.

  Me: Why?

  Christian: They told us it was opening for a pretty good band, but they’re just having us sell merch & play at the bar next door to promote. We can’t even play our own stuff.

  Me: That sux. Can U come home soon?

  Christian: No. They paid us for the whole week.

  Christian: Why don’t U drive down 2morrow after work? We’ll have dinner.

  I thought about it for a minute. Jacksonville was only about an hour and a half from there, so it wasn’t impossible. And I needed some time with Christian to get the images—and feelings—of Grant out of my head.

  Me: yeah, sounds great. When & where?

  Christian: I’ll txt U in the morning. Night babe, Luv U

  Me: I love U too.

  I set my phone back in my purse and was about to start the car when I heard a tap at the window. When I turned, Grant was standing beside my car.

  I rolled down the car window and he bent down, resting his forearms on the window edge. “Jesus Christ you scared me!”

  “Sorry about that, Cupcake. I saw you sitting here and wanted to make sure you were okay. You’re not having car trouble or anything are you?”

  I shook my head, trying not to look at his bright green eyes or how his biceps bulged as he leaned his weight on them. “No, I’m fine. I was texting someone before I left.”

  “Oh, okay. Good. Glad you’re okay.”

  I smiled, but didn’t say anything. A breeze drifted over him, sending Grant’s scent directly to me. It was intoxicating, like cloves and fresh-cut grass mixed with a little ocean salt air. I wanted to breathe it in for hours. I unconsciously leaned my head toward him, breathing deeply.

  “Do you…” he whispered, trailing his words off.

  I sat up straight, realizing I was practically now laying my head on his arm. “I’m so sorry, I’m just tired,” I mumbled, mortified by what I’d done. “I need to go.”

  I had no idea what he was about to say, but I knew whatever it was, I would’ve had a hard time saying no. And I needed to leave before he asked again.

  I expected him to stand back up and leave, but he didn’t move. Instead, his brows pinched together like he was contemplating something very deeply. I wanted to run my finger between them and straighten the little crease that formed. I licked my lips, leaning in again. He tilted his head down toward me, bringing us closer still. Inviting me. Daring me.

  We were so close that our breath mingled together, a bouquet of mint and cherry soda. My eyes slid shut, praying he was brave enough for that final step, because I wasn’t. I could still feel his hot breath on my face, enveloping every one of my senses until I was hyper alert to even the slightest movement. The rustle of the trees, the hum of engines, the thunderous boom of my heart, the slight whimper that escaped my lips. His face was so close to mine, his lips hovered millimeters above mine. We were almost kissing. Almost touching.

  Almost.

  But neither of us moved. We were locked in position where we neither wanted to be but weren’t willing to admit it. It was the sexiest game of chicken I’d ever played.

  But he lost, or maybe I did, as he stepped back to put distance between us once more.

  “I’m… I shouldn’t…Grant, about tonight…” I didn’t know what I was going to say, but it wasn’t necessary. Grant interrupted.

  “Go get some rest. You earned it.” He leaned into the car so his lips grazed my cheeks ever so gently. “Goodnight, Cupcake.”

  I clutched the steering wheel to keep my mischievous hands from grabbing him and dragging him into the car with me.

  “Well, have a good night,” I told him, and started the car.

  He looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. Instead, he tapped twice on my door and stood back up, rocking back on his heels. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Jillian. Drive safely.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Tonight was the best fucking night of my life. And when she drove off, no doubt texting that douchebag boyfriend of hers, I wanted to throw something. Like a bowling ball. In his face.

  I called JT on my way home. “Tell me you found something on that asshole.”

  JT didn’t even need me to specify which one. I’d asked him to use some of his brilliant abilities to find out more about whoever he was, and JT’s lack of scruples to do anything illegal made him perfect for the job.

  “It wasn’t easy, especially since I didn’t have a name to start with, but I found something you might be interested in. His name is Christian Kirkpatrick. He’s twenty-two and went to Madison High. Older brother Derrick is serving five years for a drug charge. Christian has no record, but lots of his friends do. I’m sending a pic to your phone.”

  He sounded familiar, but until I saw his picture it didn’t click. He was one of the guys from my rival high school who paid me to hack in and change his grades so he could pass and graduate. He and a few of his buddies also approached me about a year ago and asked me to break into the police station database and wipe out their possession with intent to sell arrest record. It wasn’t Christian who was arrested, but it may as well have been.

  “JT, you’re my hero, man. I actually know that piece of shit, though I doubt he’d remember. He’s a stoner loser, and I’d bet money he was the new dealer Tonya found and that she was the one who delivered those flowers to Jillian’s desk.”

  “Yeah, but you can’t go to her with this. If you don’t have any proof, she’s never going to believe you.”

  I ran a frustrated hand through my hair. “No matter what, he doesn’t deserve Jillian. He’s nowhere close to being good enough for her, and I can’t figure out why she’s with him.”

  Did she honestly think she didn’t deserve better? Or that she’d just been with him for so long, she was stuck? God, I hoped it wasn’t ‘cause he had a huge dick or anything. Though, I couldn’t see her being that shallow.

  “Dude, just let me know if you need me to dig further. You know I’m up for it.”

  “All right, thanks, JT. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I punched the steering wheel as I drove. I wanted to out him to Jillian. To tell her what he was really like: a loser who couldn’t even work for a D to pass high school and who was friends with drug dealers and possibly was one himself. I didn’t think she knew anything about this, and if I told her, it would make me look petty and desperate to break them up. Neither of which would work in my favor. I mean, it was over a year ago, and I hadn’t seen him since. For all I knew, he wasn’t even friends with those people anymore. I didn’t believe that for a moment, but I was stuck. I dropped the matter for now, but wouldn’t hesitate to tell her the second I found a shred of proof he was still doing that shit.

  Because she was worth it.

  She was worth putting my Plan aside and the realization of th
at terrified me. That girl drove me wild. She knocked over every boundary I’d set for myself, and I couldn’t get enough. It was all I could do to restrain myself and not throw her in the backseat of the car where we both wanted to be. And that’s what made this whole thing that much worse. I knew she wanted to kiss me, to do more than kiss me. I doubted that if I pushed, she’d stop me at all. But then as I approached her car, I saw that sweet, bashful smile on her face and realized it wasn’t meant for me.

  She wasn’t mine.

  But fuck that. I couldn’t just let her go. Not without at least seeing what she felt and where I stood. I had to try. I’d never forgive myself if I gave up on her without so much as letting her know that she drove me the best kind of crazy, that I couldn’t stop thinking about her, and that I wanted to spend time with her and know everything about her.

  The rest of the week was…awkward to say the least. I didn’t know where we stood, or what she expected of me. I tried to go slow, play it by ear, let her take the lead and hope she wanted to head in the same direction as me. With me.

  But when I walked over to her cubicle early the next morning with a cup of coffee for her, she stiffened at my presence. I let my fingers brush her hand as I passed her the cup, but she backed away. Clearly, we were no longer in the same place. She regretted last night. It was obvious.

  So I did the best thing for both of us: I pretended like we didn’t have enough sexual tension to fill a room. I shoved how much I craved touching her to the back of my mind. I pushed away the amazingly tantalizing scent of her skin, and I took cold showers.

  Lots and lots of cold showers.

  It killed me, every fuckin’ day, knowing she was down the hall, but I couldn’t be with her. It went against every instinct, telling me to scream MINE and pee in a circle around her cubicle so everyone knew it, too. But it wasn’t what she wanted. She wasn’t ready.

  I’d bide my time until she was, because if she felt even half of what I did, she’d come back. I had to be patient. I didn’t send her any more IMs or emails. I didn’t answer when she called IT for help. JT was all too willing to rush over and help, but I couldn’t do it. I wanted what I couldn’t have. Was it fair to her to ice her out? No, absolutely not. But it was the only way I could cope with her being so close to me without the ability to do anything about it.

  The weekend was easier. Without her right down the hallway, the tight ball in my chest loosened ever so slightly.

  Monday night I stayed late at work when I heard a soft knock at the door.

  “Can I come in?”

  Jillian hovered in the doorway, once again picking at the hangnail on her thumb. She was nervous, and as painful as being near her was, pretending like I didn’t want to be with her every day hurt worse.

  “Yeah, sure. Have a seat.” I saved my file and closed the lid on my laptop, curious as to why she was here. She looked absolutely gorgeous in a simple yellow sundress that fell to her ankles and those cork wedge sandals which laced up her calves and peeked into view when she crossed her legs.

  “I wanted to apologize, Grant. About last week. It was my fault.”

  I shifted my seat closer and grabbed her hand in mine. Pain, remorse, and something akin to longing filled her face and eyes. Sitting here in my harsh office full of wires and equipment, she looks so delicate. I wanted to take her somewhere beautiful, like a museum or a waterfall. Some place where the beauty of the surroundings matched the beauty of the girl.

  “Stop, Jillian. You don’t need to apologize. I’m to blame, not you. I was totally out of line. I knew you had a boyfriend, but I wanted you anyway. I still want you.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, just for a second. “No. I led you on. I never once tried to stop you. I don’t blame you.” She paused, staring at me momentarily. “And I wanted you, too. I shouldn’t, it’s wrong, but I do.”

  My heart swelled at her words. “So now what?”

  She sighed and sat back in her seat, letting go of my hand. “Can we at least go back to being friends? I really enjoy your company, and I don’t want to stop hanging out with you. We just can’t go any further, okay? Friends. Is that something you’d want?”

  What I wanted was her. All of her. But that wasn’t possible. So I’d settle for the next best thing. Because I’m a chump. And because I’m pretty sure she was worth it.

  “Yes, Jillian. I think I can manage that.”

  Jillian’s smile widened, and she nodded. “Good. So what do two friends do around here for fun?”

  “Drinks?” I suggested. I didn’t want her to think of it as a date and back off again, and this sounded like the least harmless.

  Jillian hopped up and grabbed her purse. “Sounds perfect. Let’s go.”

  I picked a quiet place that had outdoor seating since it was such a beautiful night. I found a small table in the far corner where the music from the jukebox wasn’t too loud and the other patrons wouldn’t distract us.

  “So what’s your poison?” I asked.

  She smiled sheepishly and covered her face in her hands. “I’m such an idiot. They’re never going to serve me here. I’m only nineteen.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got you covered. It’s one drink, it’s not like you’re going to get hammered.”

  She bit the side of her lip. “Are you sure? I don’t want to get us thrown out or anything.”

  “Just tell me what you want.”

  “Um, a rum and Coke would be perfect. Thanks.”

  “It’s my pleasure.” I stood and headed to the bar to place our order. The bartender was a guy I went to grad school with, and I knew he wouldn’t give me any trouble. I returned a minute later with the drinks and held mine up. “A toast.”

  “And what are we toasting to?”

  I thought for a moment, trying to decide how far was too far to push so soon. “Aux possibilities sans fin.”

  Her eyes widened at my choice of toast, surprised by my brazen words. “I thought we were going for ‘just friends?’”

  “We are. Did you take my toast another way?”

  I’d set her up and tested her, but she smiled coyly and raised her glass to mine. “Endless possibilities indeed. Salude!”

  I took a sip of my Summer Ale, enjoying the rich taste and frothy head as my eyes skimmed over the glass to watch her. We sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, enjoying the sky as the sun began to set, and The Zac Brown Band playing in the background.

  “I remember the first time I heard this song,” I said, my voice breaking the silence. “They had just come out with their first indie album and weren’t well known outside of Georgia. My mom had stumbled upon them after eating in their daddy’s restaurant and took me to see them perform a few months later. Their concert was about three hours from our house, so my mom came to my school at lunch and told me I was skipping the rest of the day. We hopped in the car and listened to their entire CD on the way to and from the concert, stopping for Dairy Queen Blizzards on the way and eating bad pizza from a truck stop on the way home. We didn’t get home until almost two in the morning, and my dad was pissed. Mom had forgotten to turn her cell phone on and he was worried out of his mind. It was the last thing we ever did together before she died. I can’t hear this song anymore without thinking of her, and I’ve been to three of their concerts since then, always buying two tickets but going alone. I know it’s stupid, but I somehow feel like the other ticket isn’t going to waste. It’s like my mom’s still there, clapping and singing at the top of her lungs.”

  “I’m so sorry you lost your mom. I can’t even imagine having to get through my teens without mine. She was always there to let my cry on her shoulder or give me advice. That must have been hard.” Jillian reached over the table and squeezed my hand.

  “It was worse on my dad. He basically fell apart.” I stopped, not wanting tonight to be a pity party for me. I changed the subject. “So are you an only child too?”

  She shook her head. “No, I have sister, but she’
s six years older than me. She married her high school sweetheart, who became a MP out of Fort Stewart. They’re stationed over in Germany now, and I don’t get to see her much. I’m hoping next summer I can go and visit for a few months to pick up the language.”

  “What? You mean you’re not going to stick around at Allegro? Become a lifer like most of them?”

  “Um, no. Don’t tell Connie, but I wouldn’t even be there now if my mom didn’t make me. I wanted to spend all summer at the beach, but apparently that was a pipe dream. What about you? Are you going to stick around and run the IT department one day?”

  “I pretty much run it now. But no. I have one more semester left and then I’m heading out to California. I’m hoping to get an internship at Google that leads to a full-time job. I’m only working here to save enough money to live out there for a year. If I don’t get a job after that, I’ll be your local bum panhandling on the exit ramps off the 405.”

  “I can see it now. A nice, scruffy beard and a sign that says, ‘Will defrag for food!’”

  I laughed so hard, the beer I was drinking went up my nose. Which made us laugh even harder. We sat and talked until well after midnight, about anything and everything. Conversation between us flowed like water, no awkward silence or weird moments. We got along so well, you’d think we’d have known each other for years.

  At the end of the night, like a true gentleman, I walked her to her car and said goodnight. We both stood there, not moving, not leaving—hesitant to say goodnight. I wanted to kiss her, to grab and pull her to me and kiss her until we couldn’t breathe. But I didn’t move. I never even tried for anything more, as much as I wanted it. She was amazing both inside and out, and if I could only be her friend right now, I’d take it.

  The rest of the week went just as smoothly. We chatted or texted several times a day, ate lunch together on the picnic table behind the parking lot of Allegro, and talked on the phone until the wee hours of the morning.

  I was falling for this girl, and there was no net to catch me. Every time I talked to her, I found out a new nugget that made her more perfect than before. We loved the same movies, we quoted our favorite books. I knew she felt it too, and that she wanted to move past being “just friends,” but she was conflicted.