Getting Schooled (The Wright Brothers Book 1)

by Jones, Christina C

  “Oh wow. A phone sex operator, huh? Is that where your paycheck goes, why you were acting funny about paying for dinner the other night?”

  “Exactly. Glad you understand,” he chuckled.

  “Mmhmm. You didn’t answer my question.”

  “What question was that?”

  “If you were still babysitting or not…”

  “Nah. I was at my dad’s house when you called earlier, watching her for my brother. I actually just walked in the door about twenty minutes ago myself.”

  I sat back on the couch, snuggling deep into the pillows. “And what are you doing now?”

  “Talking to you. Duh. Waiting on you to stop playing and go ahead and swing through.”

  “Why do I have to swing through?” I asked. “Don’t tell me just when I was starting to think better of you, you’re gonna prove yourself to be the bum ass dude I thought you were?”

  He chuckled. “Damn, I gotta be a bum though?”

  “Mmhmm.” I rolled over onto my side. “Why should I have to go out in the cold? If you wanna see me, you can come to me.”

  “Oh, it’s like that?”

  “Yeah, it’s like that.”

  There were a few seconds of silence, and then he said, “Aiight. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

  Wait, what?!

  “Have you eaten yet? It’s kinda late, you probably already had dinner, huh?”

  Oh shit, he’s serious!

  I jumped up from my spot on the couch, nearly tripping over the ottoman as I looked around, making sure my house was clean enough for company. “Umm… no, actually.” I really hadn’t, but I was hoping he’d offer to stop and grab something, which would give me a little more time to prepare.

  “Cool,” he said, already sounding like he’d gotten up and started moving. “I’ll bring you some of me and Bri’s spaghetti. I mean, it’s the least I can do since you did help.”

  “Uh, yeah. That would be cool.”

  Silence again. And then, “Just so we’re on the same page… I’m not like, expecting anything from you, once I’m there.”

  “I didn’t think you were, but… I appreciate you wanting to be clear.”

  “Yeah. Aiight so… thirty minutes?”

  I looked around at my already spotless apartment, then my clean, well-moisturized skin and neatly painted toenails from my little binge earlier, when I was trying to avoid my phone.

  “Yeah. Thirty minutes.”

  eleven.

  “I should make your ass wait outside.”

  I grinned at Reese as she stood in her doorway, arms crossed, looking comfortable and collegiate in an oversized blue Blakewood State University hoodie. Little by little, she was blowing my initial perception of her out of the way. I would have bet money that knowing I was coming by, she would have gotten dressed up, intending to tease. Instead, she stood in front of me in a hoodie, shorts, and fuzzy socks, no makeup, with her braids loose, hanging around her shoulders and face.

  “Why would you want to do that?” I asked, straightening to full height. Reese was maybe 5’6-7” to my 6’4”, and that difference of almost a foot made her have to tilt back a little to look me in the face.

  “Because you said thirty minutes, and according to my phone, it’s only been twenty-two. What if I wasn’t ready yet?”

  “Just barely got off the toilet before I rang the bell, huh?”

  She wrinkled her nose, and laughed. “Eww! No! Come in, it’s cold.”

  She took the large Tupperware container from me as she stepped back to allow me inside. Her home was warm – in temperature and feel – decorated in purples, earthy grays, and eclectic wooden accents. I wasn’t surprised, even a little, that her walls were lined with the work of black artists. I grinned at the glass case of vinyl records, with a vintage player. A few of the covers were on display, all featuring the same group – her father’s.

  “Shoes off please,” she said, closing the door behind me. She walked off toward the kitchen without looking back, and I called after her.

  “I can’t get any help?”

  She stopped walking and turned to me, face twisted. “For what? Don’t your fingers work?” She went back to what she was doing, and I tried not to smile as I bent to remove my shoes, and left them by the door.

  When I went into the kitchen, she was pushing herself onto her toes to slide the bowl of spaghetti into the microwave over the stove. The little white yoga shorts she was wearing rose up with her, almost giving a peak of what was underneath. The bottom hem reached that sexy little cuff of her ass and stopped, then lowered again as she started the microwave and turned around.

  “Hey,” she said, “You didn’t really need help in there did you?”

  I chuckled. “Nah.”

  She pushed out a little sigh. “Okay. Good. I was hoping you were kidding. I don’t want you to think I won’t help, if you need it, but—”

  “You’re good,” I said, raising my hand in front of me. “I was just playing around.”

  She nodded. “Okay. Cause it didn’t seem like you needed any, so I honestly thought it would be kind of offensive if I offered. Damn!” She snapped her fingers. “Missed opportunity. Next time I’ll be on top of it.”

  “You really are something else.” I stepped further into the kitchen, moving closer to where she was.

  She smiled. “I am, aren’t I? A special breed.”

  “More like a special case. A nut case.”

  “Oh whatever,” she said, her eyes dancing with laughter before she turned away, going to her refrigerator. “I made us a little salad, and um… if you’re staying long enough to sober up after, I opened a bottle of wine.”

  I chuckled. “Oh, shit! You’re turning this into a whole romantic dinner thing, huh?” Her eyes went wide, lips parted, and then she looked away, dropping her eyes to the salad bowl in her hands. “Nah, don’t get embarrassed now,” I said, laughing as I took the bowl from her, and sat it down on the counter. “I mean, I’m down with it, I just wasn’t expecting it.”

  I put my hand to her waist, and she immediately responded, stepping closer and relaxing against me like it was second nature. Her braids grazed my hand as she tipped her head up. “I got nervous, I guess. Started doing too much. If you hadn’t gotten here early, I probably would’ve had that fireplace lit.”

  I threw my head back and laughed. “Wow. I can’t imagine you nervous. You seem very, very sure of yourself.”

  “Well, I guess my secret is out now. I’m not as impossibly perfect as I look.” Those words were barely out of her mouth before she broke into a peal of giggles.

  “You couldn’t even say that shit with a straight face, huh?”

  Wearing a big smile, she shook her head. “I couldn’t. But yeah, I get nervous just like anybody else when I…”

  “When you…?” She dropped her gaze again, pulling her lip between her teeth. I brought my free hand up to her face, tipping her chin up. “When you what, princess?”

  Her eyelids fluttered closed for a second, and then she turned those big browns on me. “When I… like somebody.”

  “Oh, so you like me now, wow! I thought you didn’t like “grimy, egotistical, stupid mechanics who can’t stay on the subject of the paper”? What happened to that, huh?” I dropped my hands to her ass, squeezing as I pulled her in closer. “Dick changed your mind, didn’t it?”

  “Here you go with that exaggerating again,” she laughed. “I didn’t say all of that!”

  “That’s what it sounded like to me.”

  “And you’re overestimating the power of your dick.”

  “Nah, you’re underestimating. I bet you told all your little friends about how a nigga that doesn’t even have both of his feet gave you the best dick of your life. Didn’t you?”

  Her eyes went wide, and she laughed yet again, and that visual, paired with the sound set off a foreign sensation in my chest. Even when it was over, her lips remained curved into a little smile, her eyes bright,
and happy, and damn, I just couldn’t help myself.

  Reese melted against me when I dipped my head, pressing my mouth to hers. I slipped my hands underneath her hoodie, gripping her at the waist in an attempt to pull her closer. She let out a little moan as I eased my tongue along the seam of her lips, beckoning her to open for me, and she did. I took my time exploring her mouth with my tongue, savoring her sweetness. Pulling her lip between my teeth, sucking, biting, soothing, then back to her tongue to taste a little more.

  When I finally pulled away, she was breathless. Chest heaving, eyes darkened with desire, and I could damn near feel the heat coming from between her legs. Her lips stayed parted as she looked up at me, her soft pants breaking the silence that punctuated the loud beeping sounds of the microwave going off.

  I grinned, then lowered my mouth again, brushing my lips against hers before I drew back, and gave her ass another good squeeze.

  “Let’s eat.”

  - & -

  We ended up lighting the fireplace.

  Yeah, yeah, we were corny as hell, but whatever. After we ate, Reese put on one of her dad’s vinyls, and we settled on the floor in front of the fireplace with that bottle of wine she’d opened earlier.

  “I can’t stop thinking about that spaghetti,” she sighed, taking a long sip from her oversized glass. I had my back up against her couch, and she was beside me, but turned in my direction, with her legs crossed.

  I chuckled a little. “Get some more then, if you want it.”

  She shook her head. “I may want it, but I don’t need it. I’ll be mad at myself when I wake up bloated tomorrow. I’m just shocked at how good it was. That Brielle must be some cook.”

  “Oh, give the six year old all the credit, huh?”

  “Giving the credit where I’m sure it’s due,” she laughed. “Which brother is her father?”

  “Mr. Bestseller.”

  She nodded. “Is that the one who was with you at the bookstore that day?”

  “Yeah. Arranging a signing that he’s going to do for an upcoming book.”

  “Oh wow!” She took another slow sip from her glass. “I’ve never read his stuff before, is it good? And tell the truth.”

  I laughed. “What? Yeah, his stuff is good. I wouldn’t claim his ass if it wasn’t.”

  “What does he write? Nonfiction? SciFi?”

  I tipped my head to the side. “Uhh… hard to say, actually. He writes in a couple of different genres. Some literary fiction that deals with relationships, a couple of thrillers. One big review called him a cross between Walter Mosley and Eric Jerome Dickey.”

  Her eyes went wide. “Wow. Those are some pretty big comparisons.”

  “Yeah. He hates that shit, but it comes with the territory I guess. Real talk though, he’s good. I can bring you some.”

  She shook her head. “Nah, I’ll purchase. Support his art. But I’m coming to your ass for my money back if I don’t like it.”

  “Why me?!”

  “Cause you made the recommendation. Is there any sex in his books?”

  I laughed. “Yeah, in a couple.”

  “Write those titles down for me. That’s what I wanna read.”

  “Are you serious, Reese?”

  She giggled, then took another sip from her glass. “Hell yes! It’s getting cold out too? One of my most favorite things is curling up right here, with some wine, and a good book – if there’s good sex in it, even better. So if your brother fucks up my vibe, you’re gonna hear about it.”

  “Alright, alright. I can accept that. I’ll get you a list.”

  “Thank you.”

  Neither of us said anything for a few moments, and Reese finished off her glass of wine. She grabbed the bottle, topped off my glass, and then poured the rest for herself. As she sipped from her fresh glass, her eyes raked over me, and then settled on my leg.

  “May I?”

  I didn’t really know what she was asking, but I nodded anyway, finishing off my glass in one big gulp as she reached for the leg of my sweat pants. Her eyes stayed on my face as she tugged it upward, exposing my prosthetic.

  “Is it weird that I think this is really cool?” she asked, cautiously running her fingers over the stylized metal.

  I chuckled, watching the wonder on her face as she examined it up close. “Not really… mine is purposely designed to look badass. I had a few friends from my army days who did mechanical engineering once they left the military. They spun that knowledge into the biomedical field. I reached out to them, and let them basically experiment with me. Ended up with this prosthetic, that I actually haven’t had that long, and a more functional one that I use when I go running.”

  “Running? So, you’re pretty well acclimated to using it then?”

  “Yeah. I’ve been using a prosthetic for about two years. I’ve only had this particular one for about six months though. But back to your question, trust me. I’d rather you think it looks cool than some of the other reactions I tend to get.”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “Which are…?”

  “Freaking out. Feeling sorry for me. Treating me like I’m frail.”

  “Oh whatever, Jason. You look like the fucking Terminator, nobody is treating you like you’re frail. I don’t believe that.”

  I shrugged. “You’d be surprised then. The incident was a little under three years ago. I’ve been through surgery, physical therapy, learning how to use the prosthetic, all of that, and I’ve seen a lot of different reactions throughout that time.”

  “You did all of that here?”

  “Nah. When they sent me back stateside, I was out in Cali. I actually loved it out there, and the engineering industry is booming. I came back home to be with my family while I do the school thing, but I might accept an internship, and go back when I’m done.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  I’d been watching her fingers as the traveled over the lines and grooves of my prosthetic. But something about her inflection over those last words made me look up, and there was marked dejection in her eyes as she turned toward the fire, and swallowed the last bit of wine in her glass.

  “Hey… what’s up?” I asked, reaching for her hand, only to have her pull it away.

  “Nothing.”

  I wrinkled my forehead, and that turned into a full-on frown when she suddenly got up and walked in the kitchen, grabbing the empty wine bottle and glasses as she went.

  What the fuck just happened?

  I followed her into the kitchen, grabbing her at the waist to turn her in my direction. “You gonna tell me what’s going on with you right now?”

  She gave me a crazy look, like she didn’t know what I was talking about. “I’m good.”

  “But tell me what’s on your mind anyway. You’ve never had a problem doing that.”

  “It’s nothing, damn!” She pushed her way out of my grasp, then stalked over to the corner to toss the wine bottle in the recycle bin. “Just thinking too hard.”

  I chuckled a little. “No such thing.”

  Reese sucked her teeth, shaking her head as she turned to face me. “Um, yeah. There definitely is.”

  She set to work cleaning our wine glasses in silence, and then left them on the dishrack on the counter. I followed her into the living room, where she turned off the record player and carefully slid the vinyl back into the protective sleeve.

  “Is this your way of telling me it’s time for me to go?” I asked, sliding my hands into the pockets of my sweats.

  Reese stopped what she was doing, her fingers frozen over the chrome handle of the glass cabinet. “So you can put two and two together, huh?” she snipped, then shook her head. “I’m not telling you anything, Jason. Do whatever common sense is telling you that you should do.”

  Well damn.

  She closed the cabinet, and then stalked over to the fireplace and bent down, getting ready to turn the gas off.

  “Hold up,” I said, my stride unhurried as I walked over to her. I grabbed her by the hand,
ignoring her slight resistance as I led her back to the couch.

  “What are you doing?”

  I smiled, then sat down, pulling her into my lap. “You said to do whatever common sense is telling me to, so I’m going to sit her for a few minutes, and I want you to sit with me. Aiight?”

  She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t move either, so I relaxed into my position on the couch. After several minutes passed, Reese loosened up too, resting her head on my shoulder. Still, neither of us said anything. I actually started getting sleepy again, watching the soothing crackle of the fire as I made lazy circles on her back with my hand.

  “I feel really stupid,” she said finally, mumbling the words into my neck. “I let my mind wander, today. While we were eating, and talking, and I started thinking… maybe this could be something. A not-just-a-convenient-booty-call something. And yes, I know how crazy that is, to already be thinking about that, but I got so excited, because it’s been forever since I really liked somebody. Really, really liked somebody. So there I was, thinking too hard. Doing too much.”

  I frowned. “Okay, but those are just your thoughts. Make me understand the problem.”

  “You’re leaving. That’s the problem.”

  I could tell she regretted those words as soon as they came out of her mouth. She actually sucked in a breath, and started to climb out of my lap, but I looped an arm around her waist, keeping her there.

  “And now you see the other side of “saying what’s on my mind”. If I’m not insulting you, I’m spilling awkward, inappropriate feelings. Wonderful, right?”

  “Goddamn, when you bring out “high-strung” Reese, you really commit to it, huh?” Her eyes narrowed, and she opened her mouth, but I spoke again before she could. “Relax, girl. Shit,” I chuckled. “To be so observant, you sure did miss that I said I might go back to Cali. I’ve got reasons to stay here, too. My family is here. Auto manufacturing is growing in this area, so I could potentially build a career. And… there’s the possibility of a lot happening in the course of a year that might give me more reasons to stay.”

  “I’m not asking you for anything, Jason. Just venting. Real, meaningful connections don’t come easy for me, and it’s scary to think about getting attached to somebody who might be moving thousands of miles away.”