***
Hours later, it was me who woke to Johnny’s phone ringing.
I got up on one arm, hoping that it wouldn’t wake him, and reached over him to grab it off my nightstand. Once I’d unplugged it from the charger, I silenced it and stared at the screen.
Fourteen missed calls. Twenty-two text messages. And eight voicemails. I wasn’t sure why I was only just hearing the phone ring now after all of those missed calls.
Shit.
I swiped to open it and placed it to my ear.
“Hello?” I answered hesitantly.
“Oh, thank God. Is my son there?” a woman’s voice sounded shakily.
“Um, yes.” I paused and then scrambled from the bed, knowing this was going to take some explanation. I didn’t want to wake him after the night he’d had. “But he’s sleeping. Can I help?”
“He’s sleeping?” she asked, worry starting to take over. “We saw the news. Is he okay?”
I winced.
Apparently, he hadn’t called them to tell them that he was okay. I felt my body droop.
I didn’t know how to deal with parents. Hell, I didn’t even know how to deal with my grandfather, who loved me like no other.
Speaking of…I hadn’t called him, either. Shit!
“He’s fine.” I licked my dry lips. “He sustained a doozy of a concussion, and he’s been randomly throwing up throughout the night, but he’s asleep soundly now. He has another forty minutes before I have to wake him up again.”
She made a noise in her throat, then I heard her start to cry.
“Give me the phone, woman.”
I found my lips twitching as I thought, There is no way in hell this man isn’t Johnny’s father. He sounds just like him.
I waited for the phone to be passed on, and then a male’s voice replaced the female’s. Johnny’s dad.
“Who is this?”
“June Carter Common,” I offered up quickly.
Why had I given him my full name?
There was silence on the line. “Your name is June?”
He sounded…happy?
“Uh, yes.” I paused. “I was named after…”
“June Carter Cash?” Johnny’s dad guessed.
I found myself smiling. “Yeah. My grandfather, Tennessee Common, named me. My parents neglected to name me for a full month, and Grandpa wasn’t happy about not having a name to call me. So, he named me.”
Why had I just told him all of that?
“That’s good.” He sounded much calmer than his wife. “My wife watched the news and saw that cell phone video of all of those thugs surrounding him. Were you there?”
Was I there? I almost laughed.
“Uh, yeah.” I hesitated. “I was the one driving the truck.”
There was no more explanation needed than that. I mean, if they watched the news, then they had to have known what happened—that I hit those men with my godforsaken truck.
He started to laugh. “I like you, girl. When my son wakes up and is coherent enough to express cognitive thoughts, please tell him to give his mom a call. She’s worried about him.”
“You’re not?” I blurted, my heart warming at him saying he liked me.
I mean, surely he was worried about him, too.
“Yeah.” He paused. “I’m worried as fuck. I just don’t want you to think that I’m a pussy.”
I started to giggle, covering my hand over my mouth when it was a little too loud in the quiet room. “I don’t think it makes you a pussy to worry about your son.”
He grunted. “Maybe. Maybe not. But Johnny hates being worried over. ‘Night, girl.”
Then he was gone, and I was left staring at nothing with a phone pressed to my ear.
Johnny’s father had just been nicer to me in one conversation than my own father had ever been, and he hadn’t even met me yet.
I swallowed a sudden moan of sadness and went back into the room where Johnny was now staring at me with bleary eyes.
“My pop?” he questioned, sounding worn out and groggy.
“Yeah.”
“You tell him I was okay?”
I nodded my head.
“You confirm that you hit those punks with your truck?” he continued.
I nodded my head again.
“He say anything to that?”
I bit my lip. “He said that he liked me.”
He grunted. “Like father like son.”
Then he was out like a light, leaving me to wonder what that cryptic statement meant.
See, I sure wanted for it to be what I thought it meant, but with my luck, it probably wasn’t anything like that.
***
The next time I woke up, it was to an arm thrown over my waist, a scalding heat along my shoulders, back and thighs, and my feet tucked between two legs that were definitely much hairier than the blanket that I was used to waking up beneath.
My heart felt content, and I wondered if this was how it felt to trust someone implicitly.
I hadn’t freaked out over Johnny’s touch since that time at the bar. I was making progress. He was careful—always so careful—about how he touched me. He made me aware that he was about to do it, and he held contact with my eyes as he did it. Slowly and surely, he was making me accept him without undoing the progress he’d made by moving too fast.
And with that progress, came the thinking that if I could do this, maybe I could do that.
Unfortunately, that would have to wait, because when my eyes lit on my alarm clock, my heart started to pound.
“Shit,” I said, leaning up on my elbow and reaching for my own phone this time.
Johnny stirred at my back, but I didn’t bother leaving the room. He needed to wake up himself, anyway.
After dialing the number that I needed, I placed it against my ear and waited impatiently for Coke to answer.
“Hello?”
Coke sounded gruff, impatient and pissed.
“Coke, it’s me, June.”
“Where the fuck are you?” he growled.
I bit my lip.
“Well, yesterday, I hit a couple of people with my truck trying to keep some guy from hitting Johnny with a two-by-four piece of wood, and in doing so, my truck got impounded by the cops because I may or may not have killed someone.”
“Knew that truck looked familiar when it came in. You say you may or may not have killed someone. You don’t know if you killed them?” He sounded much more amused this time.
“Well, no. The last time I heard, one of the brothers was in critical condition. I haven’t checked on his status since I left the hospital with Johnny last night. Speaking of which, I had to wake up every couple of hours to make sure that Johnny didn’t die in his sleep. I overslept. I have, like, a twenty-minute walk, and I’ll be there,” I rambled.
Even though, technically, I could ask Johnny to borrow his truck. I knew for a fact he’d let me after yesterday. But I didn’t want to take advantage of him.
“No, you won’t.” He paused. “I think maybe or maybe not killing someone and running over several other people with your truck entitles you to a day off. Be here tomorrow. I can come get you if you can’t get here.”
I found myself smiling despite the intensity of the situation.
“I have a friend that can take me. I’m so sorry for not calling earlier than this,” I apologized, thinking Amanda would be more than willing to take me if she got to hear about last night’s activities.
He grunted. “Don’t worry about it. My kid’s here today anyway. It’s a teacher in-service day, goddammit. She can answer phones. It won’t kill her teenage heart.”
I giggled. “Thanks, Coke. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
He grunted then hung up without saying goodbye, leaving me smiling despite the rudeness.
“You killed them, it might make my life a little easier,” Johnny said from behind me.
I turned on
my hip and looked at him.
He looked freakin’ adorable, even despite the bruise I could see trailing down the left side of his face.
His hair was a crazy mess. His usual trimmed beard looked messy, making me wonder if he brushed it or something to make it look so neat and well-maintained all the other times.
His eyes were soft. His lips slightly swollen.
And he wasn’t wearing a shirt…
“Where did your shirt go?”
He looked down at his bare chest. “I get hot. Wearing clothes to bed makes me feel claustrophobic.”
I eyed the sheet covering his lower half. “Tell me you at least have your pants on still.”
He smiled and clutched the sheet tighter to his waist. “You may not want to look.”
I had to know.
My hand went over on its own volition.
Then I was yanking the sheet away from him.
He started to laugh, then immediately fell back and clutched his head. “Owwwww.”
I rolled my eyes and threw the sheet back over him.
He’d shed the pants, but at least he still had on underwear.
“I was coherent enough to remember you were there next to me,” he pointed out, sounding pained. “Can I take some more painkillers?”
I looked at the clock again. “In thirty minutes.”
“Fuck.”
I smiled and rolled out of bed, walking sedately to my bathroom. “You shouldn’t have fucked with me like that.”
“I’ll remember you’re vindictive and use injuries to your advantages the next time I want to tease you,” he mumbled.
Smiling, I closed the bathroom door, and then took care of business. My business took longer when I found a black hair growing out of my chin that looked to be about an inch long.
“Holy shit,” I muttered when I finally got the elusive hair.
“Are you almost done shitting yet? Because I seriously gotta go.” Johnny’s voice sounded from the closed door.
“I’m not shitting.” I rolled my eyes and turned away from the counter. “I was pulling a hair.”
“Pulling a hair,” he said as he walked in, then inhaled deeply. It was as if he was trying to catch me in my lie.
I held up the hair to him, and he squinted at it.
While he did that, I tried not to admire his body or the way his tattoos inspired me to drag my tongue from one nipple to the other.
“Wow,” he said once he came closer. “That’s massively long. How did you not know that was there?”
I winced. “I have no freakin’ idea. It happens all the freakin’ time, though. One day, I’ll look, and BAM. Eight-inch-long hair.”
He snorted and then gestured to the door. “Unless you want to be witness to the shit I’m about to take, I suggest you leave. You might want to go ahead and exit the bedroom, too. My poops are—”
I walked out before he could finish his sentence, knowing for a fact that I didn’t want to know any more about his bathroom habits.
We hadn’t even had sex yet. I shouldn’t have to know about those habits at least until we were well secured in our relationship.
Then I halted that thought in its tracks. Since when had I decided I was going to do him?
And what made me think that he’d even be willing to do it?
Knowing my luck, he only liked me as a friend.
I stomped a little harder into the living room and banged around the kitchen making breakfast.
But, all the while, I wondered if maybe there was something between us we could explore.
If there was ever going to be anybody in this town taking my virginity, it seemed like he was the only option. Besides, he seemed to be the one man I could tolerate enough to allow it.
He was one of about five people that I actually liked here, but the only one who had me dreaming of him since he’d shown in my life—or ever.
Chapter 10
Every day at 8 o’clock, Officer Mackenzie sits at the corner of Green and High. Don’t speed there. Don’t take this as a challenge. I’m just giving you a heads up.
-Hostel PD FB page
Johnny
One concussion and your entire life is changed—and not necessarily for the worst. At least, not for me anyway.
For June, though?
I’d like to say the whole thing changed her life for the better. Really, I would.
But it didn’t.
While we were holed up in her apartment, everything was great. Then we left to have lunch, and everything started to come into focus.
The town wasn’t happy about the role June had played in saving my life. In fact, they had it all wrong and were actually blaming it all on her. Every last bit of it.
It all started out fairly normal as we arrived at the Taco Shop together. She ordered our food and I took a seat. Really, it looked like we hadn’t even arrived together with the way we’d split up the moment we walked through the door.
Which, I think, was the reason why I heard as much as I did.
I leaned my head against the wall and let my long legs stretch out underneath the table. My eyes closed, and I shrank down even farther in my chair, seemingly blending into the wall.
There I was, trying to convince myself that I was hungry when in fact I was nauseous, when the whispers started.
“She did it on purpose, you know.”
I cracked my eye open to see who said it.
It was a younger chick with her hair in a braid. I’d never seen her before.
Then her companion, who I recognized as the principal of the school, snorted. “She always was a horrible child.”
I didn’t have to guess to know who they were talking about.
“How could she hit somebody with her truck? I mean, I sure couldn’t.”
I sat up and leaned over.
“Did you know that it’s your duty to protect a police officer if you see him in distress?” I whispered, my voice down low enough that hopefully June wouldn’t hear me from the counter. “Because, that’s what happened with me. Some guys were kicking my ass, and June used what was at her disposal to protect me while about eight other people just watched. So, trust me when I say, I’m glad June fucked her truck up.”
The woman didn’t have anything to say to that, and I was glad.
My head still hurt, and the more upset I got, the harder it throbbed.
But, over the next twenty minutes, something weird happened.
All it took was me showing June some kindness, and then everyone was questioning their impression of her.
And with her newfound popularity came other things…other things that I sure the fuck didn’t like.
For instance, though some people were starting to question their impressions of her, others didn’t change their opinions, and in fact, started to treat her worse.
Then there was the interest from the male population.
Sure, she’d had that before, but nobody had ever been ballsy enough to go against the townspeople. At least, everyone but the filth. Those people didn’t care what society thought of them.
In all honesty, those were the people that you knew were always true.
And then there was June, completely dumbfounded that people were even paying attention to her.
Honestly, I wasn’t even sure that she noticed her newfound attention. She was so used to hiding and protecting herself that I think she really didn’t notice the change in the people around her.
It was driving me fucking nuts.
I hated that all it took was for one single person—me—to see her in a different light, and poof, everyone liked her.
Or at least pretended to.
That was the problem with snakes. Sometimes they hid so well that you didn’t even know they were there until you were right on top of them.
June waited her turn in line at the drink fountain, and I leaned back against the wall to watch.
She
was three deep in line, with a male partially behind her, when he said something to her, causing her to look over her shoulder at him.
I gritted my teeth, a sense of unease pouring through me at the thought of somebody else talking to her.
Which made me selfish.
I hated that she was getting attention now and that she was reciprocating by talking back to him.
What the fuck?
Then it was her turn to get us drinks, and I watched as the man scooted so close to her that BJ—before Johnny—she would’ve flinched. Hell, she might very well have freaked the fuck out.
But obviously, something she was doing lately was helping her get better, because she did nothing but slide to the side and offer him a smile.
Then she was at our table moments later, and I could see two spots of color high on her cheeks.
“What did he say to you?” I asked grumpily.
“Oh?” She looked back over her shoulder. “Nothing. He was saying I had nice hair.”
I grunted.
“Your hair wasn’t the only thing he was looking at,” I told her.
June snickered, and I tried not to narrow my eyes at her. Apparently, I wasn’t successful.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, concern leeching into her voice. “Is your head hurting you?”
I shrugged.
My head wasn’t the only thing that was bothering me. Apparently, I needed to get control of my mouth and actions, because all I wanted to do was haul her into my lap and show her that she was mine.
But I couldn’t do that.
I didn’t know how she’d react.
We’d spent last night wrapped up in her bed—but that was while she was asleep. The moment she woke, she pulled herself out of my hold and then completely out of the bed.
The rest of the morning was spent with her at least five feet away from me at all times. Every time I got anywhere near her, she’d move her body to counteract my closeness.
It was downright frustrating.
And after seeing her not pulling away from that other guy? Yeah, I wasn’t a happy camper.
Which was probably why I let my mouth run away from me.
I’m not really sure how everything went to hell. One second, I was there, thinking that this was going to be a good thing—me and her. And the next, she was laughing with that guy again—the one that had been crowding her at the drink fountain—and I might or might not have gotten pissed—and jealous.
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