by Deena Bright
I spent the last few days thinking about it and really getting a handle on all of it. (With a few extra-long sessions with Dr. Van Hawken) It’s not that I need Jasper or want Jasper. I do need him and want him, but it’s more than that. When I’m with him, something inside me finally feels whole. It’s not like the “Jerry McGuire Completes Me” Syndrome either. I’m not looking for someone to complete me or be my other half. I guess it’s more like I’ve spent my entire life feeling empty due to all the loss I’ve experienced. I never went searching for something to replace that loss or fill that void—nobody can do that for me. Those holes, those missing pieces in my life, will forever be there—hollow and empty. But when I’m with Jasper, I no longer feel them; they no longer define me. They’re there as a reminder of who I once was, but Jasper is a reminder of who and what I want to become.
Walking through the gate to the pool, the first thing I notice is that Janelle’s got the good raft. Fucking bitch. The second thing I notice is that she looks damn good in her bikini. Leo’s going to love seeing her today in that barely-there thing. It’s small enough to be something I’d pick out. Even the other day when we went shopping for something sexy for her contract negotiations with Leo and Briggs, Janelle bought something that I’d never expect her to buy. She’s embracing her new slutty side. Huh, ain’t that the kicker! I’m the one in a serious relationship, and she’s the one whoring around. The tides, they are a-changin’.
I have to admit, I gave the whole “no cussing” thing a go. It was a no-go for sure. Janelle caught on within seconds of me even attempting to clean up my language. What can I say? I’ve got a fucking rep to protect. All joking aside though, I’ll give it a whirl—for him. Truth be told, I’d do or at least try to do anything he asked. So yeah, I overreacted. Yes, I’ve got to grow up and start acting like an adult. Hell, if the time’s right and everything goes well today, I just might announce to everyone at the Garrity cookout that he and I are together. I’m sick of caring. It’s time we come clean.
The moment Jasper walks in, carrying all of his grilling supplies, I realize how long it’s been since I’ve really seen him and touched him. Granted, we’ve seen each other at the pool house waging our war on Marcus, but it’s been a long time since we’ve been alone. He looks so good, so damn good. Darn good. God, I want to go to him, touch him, kiss him. I’ve got to cool off, but I can’t even go under the water for a cool-off. I made my own carnal mistake and actually got ready to go to a pool party. But I had to. I couldn’t come here all skanked out and gnarly. I needed to make sure Jasper got a good glimpse of everything he’s been missing. I had to go HAM (hard as a mother fucker—effer) and get ready, complete with makeup and a curling wand. I almost got busted too. Janelle knows I hate when bitches, I mean girls, wear makeup and jewelry to go swimming. Actually they don’t even swim; they just sit beside the pool and look like assholes—like jerks.
I decide to go talk to him, pull him aside, and tell him that I’m an idiot and that I’m sorry. When I swim over to where he is, he completely shuns me and continues to talk to Leo, ignoring me completely.
“Alright, but let me know when you need more money. I don’t want you doing this shit for free just to get closer to Nelle,” Jasper says, chuckling. “Actually Nelle, you got any other guys up your sleeve? Your newfound boy toys are really starting to benefit me.”
“Come on Jasper, you’re being a dick. Shut the fuck up,” I say, coming out of the pool, completely pissed that I cussed without even meaning to. Dang, this is going to be harder than I thought. Everyone’s heads whip around to stare at me. They’re gawking at me like I’ve just grown an extra pair of tits—boobs. People don’t usually talk to Jasper like that. Nobody talks to Jasper like that.
“Ahhh… the best friend to the rescue. Isn’t that sweet?” Jasper remarks, opening the packages of meat. Briggs and Leo quickly grab a package and open one as well. “Dudes, I’m not the one you have to convince. Ain’t no use in kissing my ass,” Jasper says, taking the meat from them.
I just glare at him and take my towel to the other end of the pool, laying it out over the chaise. Briggs glances between us and shrugs his shoulders, obviously not too curious about what’s going on with us.
But then when Jasper pulls off his shirt, I see it. I see it in all its glory. On his upper arm is a tattoo, a fresh, still kind of puffy and scaly tattoo. That man inked up his arm, because he knows I think they’re sexy and irresistible. He tampered with his perfect body, his flawless skin to excite me and turn me on. He went against all his principles and convictions to make me want him, to prove to me that just like the tattoo on his arm, that we are a permanent thing.
Son-of-a-bitch, he did go all Sandy Olsson on me—without the cigarette and leather pants, of course. Looks like I’ve got to do a little more Danny Zuko-ing for him.
Just as I start shifting in my seat really feeling the effects Jasper’s new tatt has on me down below, Janelle loses her mind and starts cannon-balling into the pool, like a child hyped up on crack-filled sugar cookies. Then, Briggs comes bounding down the side of the pool and drenches me with some power splash of his own. I’m about to lose my shit and go all postal on them for fucking—screwing—with my hair when Leo wraps his gorilla arms around me and jumps in the water with me in his arms.
Resurfacing, I immediately glance at Jasper to see what his reaction is to this string of events. Looking at me and looking away, he continues to grill the food, paying no attention to me. Swimming over to Leo, I whisper in his ear, “Please just go with it,” and jump on his shoulders. Running my hands through his hair, I lean over and whisper, “Make sure we’re always facing that end of the pool… and the grill.” Taking my cue, Leo grabs my thighs and runs his hands up and down them, stopping higher on them than I would’ve thought he had the balls for.
Looking up at me, he grins and says, “The effect is working… on both of them.”
Laughing, I wiggle my butt on him and say, “Like brother, like sister, they have the exact same face right now. See how tight their jaws are?”
“Sure do,” he agrees. “Now, lets’ go kick some ass.”
“Wait,” I say, “We don’t have to win, but I really don’t want to get my hair wet.”
“Listen, I helped you. There’s no way, I’m letting Briggs win this. You have got to take her down,” he begs, through gritted teeth, his voice full of determination.
“I’ll try,” I say, as Briggs and Janelle advance on us.
“UHHH JASPER, BEFORE I leave, can I dry my hair in your house?” I ask, avoiding Rick, Jocelyn, Leo, and Briggs’ eyes. I know, lamest excuse ever, but I’m desperate here. You certainly haven’t seen his tattoo and his fricken incredible body. I have, and I miss the heck out of it.
“Char, just go use my hair dryer in the pool house,” Janelle says, obviously.
“I am going to use yours, but I’ll bring it to Jasper’s house,” I say, trying to sound as rational as possible. “After the day we’ve had here with Marcus and Whoren, I’m quite certain that you and Leo will want some alone time.”
Watching Briggs’ brow furrow, I feel guilty for bringing up any alone time Nelle might be spending with anyone other than him. I don’t know how she does it; I would shoot myself if I had to hurt either one of these two guys. They’re both as sweet as sugar and as hot as Hell. I’m glad I’m not in her shoes. Really glad, because I’m quite happy with the shoes I’m currently wearing.
“We’re wrapping up here anyway,” Jasper says, not looking at me. “Why don’t you just go on home and dry your hair there?”
All eyes are on me. Joz’s eyes are wide; Rick bites down on his lip and looks to the ground. Briggs is holding in his laughter, while Leo looks concerned and sad. Meanwhile, Janelle slaps Jasper’s arm, and says, “Don’t be so mean, of course she can use your bathroom to dry her hair. It’s not like it’s some shrine or something.”
“No Janelle, I’ve got plans tonight. I’m meeting someone in a bit. Char c
an dry her hair anywhere she wants, but it’s not at my house,” Jasper states, grabbing the rest of his crap and walking away.
Not letting everyone know how hurt and out-of-control with anger I am [again], I make a few sexual comments regarding Briggs as he leaves and even one about Leo, and gather my shit and go, leaving Nelle alone with Leo.
Just as I get into my car, Jasper’s garage door opens, and he gets into his car. He speeds around mine, out of the driveway and down the street. I’m left sitting in my car, clueless as fuck about what to do. Yeah fuck that! After the way he treated me, or shall I say, “dismissed me,” today, there is no mother fucking way that I’m cleaning up my language for him. Why the Hell should I? Because he got some tattoo on his arm? Screw that. I don’t know what’s going on, but I sure as fuck am going to find out.
TODAY WAS ROUGH, rougher than I was prepared for. When I first laid eyes on Char, I wanted to drop everything, wrap her in my arms, and tell her there was no way I can go another day or night without her. It’s been miserable being apart from her. But, I’ve had my reasons. Truthfully, the shit storm with Janelle and her ex was a perfect distraction and excuse to keep Char at arm’s length. As much as I loathe and want to destroy Marcus, I’m glad his idiocy gave us a break, so I can work on handling other things.
However, Char was fucking with me all day today, trying to force me to cave. She knows her white string bikini is like kryptonite to me. Whenever she wears it, I just want to untie every damn bow and watch it fall to the ground. Actually, every time she’s worn it at my house, that’s exactly what I do. It’s like unwrapping the greatest gift of all time.
Then when Char mounted Leo in the pool, I knew what she was doing. Needless to say, it was working. Leo’s like one of those all-around nice guys, the good old boy from next door that you can trust with your life. Despite knowing that, I wanted to rip his dimples off and shove them in his always-smiling mouth, right down his damn throat.
Finally, when Char went off on Marcus and Whoren (perfectly coined nickname), I wanted to take back my “stop swearing” rule. She was tough, tenacious, controlled and so freaking hot. I wanted to bend her over the fence right then and there and show her just how much I love it when she’s strong, confident, and verbally vicious. I actually sprung wood. No shit, I did. To see the hottest woman you’ve ever seen, clad in the skimpiest bathing suit permitted to call itself a bathing suit verbally assaulting two assholes is enough to make any man lose it in his pants. She was so hot. I bet Rick, Briggs and Leo felt it too, which makes me want to kill them with my bare hands.
Treating her like I did at the pool and rushing out of there like a bat out of Hell nearly crushed me. I hated seeing the hurt in her eyes. She was reading indifference and betrayal, but I wasn’t writing that at all. She was reading what’s not there. My feelings for her haven’t changed at all. In fact, in the last few weeks, watching how a marriage could crumble and how two people could destroy each other, made me realize just how much Char and I do have. That would never be us—could never be us. Char and I have too much admiration for each other that we could never treat each other that way.
So, why did I allow her to think that I was speeding out of her life today?
A simple text from Clevenger, my private investigator, sent me barreling out of there and heading over to his office before he closed up for the holiday weekend. Having plans for the Fourth, he said that he wouldn’t be able to see me until Monday evening if I couldn’t make it before 6:00 tonight. I didn’t want to wait until Monday.
I wanted the information.
I needed the information.
It’s time to take one final look at the past, seal it up, and start looking at the future. I want to give Char everything she’s ever wanted. I want to give her the world. There is so much she wants to be, but she’s so afraid of who she was. I want her to know all the facts and see for herself that the truths about the past don’t determine who she is now,
She is loved.
She is needed.
She is wanted.
She is mine.
PULLING INTO HER driveway three hours later, her condo is dark, not a glimmer of light anywhere in the house. I ring the bell, waiting for her to come to the door. When it’s obvious that she’s not going to answer the door, I text her, hoping she’ll let me in. Again, no response. I call her phone. Nothing. Finally, doing what I swore I wouldn’t do, I take my keys out of my pocket and let myself in.
I can make out low jazz music coming from her bedroom. Light jazz is her go to music when she’s sad or upset. Feeling terribly for abandoning her today, I knock lightly on her bedroom door.
“Go away Jasper,” she says from the other side.
Opening the door, I say, “I’m sorry Char, I can’t do that.” Noticing her red, swollen eyes, my heart pangs as guilt overwhelms me. “I have so much to say to you, but first I have to do this,” I state, wrapping her in my arms as tightly as I can. Feeling her shoulders shake and body tremble, I squeeze tighter. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
Backing out of my arms, she untangles herself from my embrace. “Jasper, I’ve always been smart, been so smart, and have always protected my heart, because what little there is left of it, can’t handle much more.” Sitting down on her bed, she pats the spot next to her. “I love you Jasper, I love you more than I knew I was able to. I believed I’d shut down that part of my heart ages ago, swore it didn’t even exist anymore,” she explains, as tears pool in her eyes. “I can’t imagine waking up tomorrow without you or the next day… or the next…”
“And you don’t have to,” I say, turning toward her, reaching for her hand.
My heart breaks for her as I watch the tears in her eyes. She’s told me over and over again that she doesn’t cry and that she stopped crying when her mom died. Char believes she’s drained herself of emotion. Right now, looking at her glistening eyes and damp cheeks, I want more than ever to hold her and stop the fountain that I created. I don’t want to be the person who made her cry—who broke her—again.
Recoiling and moving her hand from mine, she continues, “That’s where you’re wrong. I don’t know why we’re even trying this anymore. Jasper, we’re from different worlds, different lives. We don’t work—can’t work. I think I’ve known it all along, which is why I was willing to go into hiding all these months with you.”
“Come on Char, we were never ‘in hiding,’ that’s not what—”
“We’ve been ‘playing house,’ Jasper, playing fairytales and make-believe,” she says, standing up and pacing her bedroom floor. “And don’t say that this is my fear talking, because that’s not it. When you look at our lives, our pasts, even how we are when others are around, we just don’t work—”
“That’s not fair, Char. We’ve never been ‘us’ around anyone else. When everyone is around, that’s when we’re pretending, pretending that we’re not completely and totally in love,” I argue, suddenly feeling very nervous.
“From the very beginning with us, from the moment we first met, it’s been some sort of game of who can top the other, who can shock the other. It’s never been about falling in love, being in love, and not caring who knew or who saw,” she states, tears streaming down her face. “Then when we actually did start… start… Hell, I don’t even know what we’ve been doing these past months, I just know that it wasn’t falling in love the right way.”
“Char, stop, you seriously don’t believe that—”
“Jasper, this isn’t love, people sneaking around, asking the other to change and be something they’re not, that’s not love… even I know that and I’m no expert on it,” she sobs, catching her breath and shaking her head. “I think you and I fell in love with the idea of finally having what we thought was so ‘off limits’ and unattainable. Neither of us even knows what love is,” she says, sniffling and wiping her nose.
“Listen to me, I know what love is. I see what it is and I feel what it is,” I explain, my voice catc
hing as I admit my deepest emotions. “It’s watching you sleep every night, soundly, when you’re supposed to be too scared to sleep through the night. Love is feeling lonely when I can’t feel you next to me in bed and so I move over to touch your back or arm just to fall back to sleep. Love is the way I feel when you walk into a room and I can’t see or hear anyone else around me, and I lose my train of thought, because you steal all of my senses from me. It’s knowing that the woman I’m staring at right now is the only woman that I have ever loved and will ever love. So Char, please don’t try to tell me what love is.”
Watching her face, I realize that I’ve not gotten through to her. She’s drowning in her own tears and agony. The pain I caused today, coupled with the hurt of every loss and disappointment she’s endured throughout her entire life, is flooding out, creating an ocean between us, one I can’t cross.
“Char, are you listening to me? Do you hear what I’m saying? I love you. I want to be with you, today, tomorrow, forever. Do you get that?” I ask, reaching for her.
Wiping her eyes, she takes a deep breath, straightens her shoulders, holds her head high, and says, “That’s the problem, Jasper. I don’t feel like that about you.”
“You don’t get it. Every time you run, I’m going to come running after you. I won’t let you walk away,” I say, standing firm.
“Then, you have to be the one to walk away. I don’t want you. I don’t need you… and I’m not in love with you,” she says as a sob escapes her.
“How can you say that? You started this entire conversation with ‘I love you.’ I call bullshit,” I say, as fear squeezes my heart like a vice.
“I do love you, the idea of you, the you I put on a pedestal for so long, not the you I’ve been with for last eight months,” she says, pissing me off with her blatant lies.
