I opened my mouth to deny it, then shut my mouth. No more lying.
“Just a little. I was curious.”
“That’s okay.” He waved his hand at the little bland room. “Sorry I don’t have much to snoop through.”
“It was fun, anyway.” I sat on his bed and leaned back on my elbows.
He had his towel wrapped around his waist and nothing else on. His eyes looked me over hungrily. “I saw you in the stands the whole time.” He came to sit next to me on the bed.
His skin was still warm and damp, and it smelled so good, with that soapy-shower scent clinging to it. The gel had been washed out of his hair, so it fell messily, almost in his gray eyes. I caught a whiff of mint from his toothpaste, and when he smiled, that twisted eyetooth made my heart thud.
“I watched you the whole time. And I was brave. There were many scantily clad girls who were not happy to know you were taken.”
He pulled me over and kissed me. “Definitely taken,” he said, his voice deep. He kissed me until I was lying back, my hands on his nearly naked body, running over the relaxed muscles. He was already hard.
“I know where your lotion is,” I whispered.
He laughed. “Shameless hussy,” he said and kissed me again.
I took over then, and when I had satisfied him, he returned the favor, and then we lay in each other’s arms, staring at his too white ceiling.
“It’s kind of weird that I’m still completely dressed and you’re completely naked,” I said in the comfortable silence.
“That’s the kind of manipulative girl you are. Somehow you always convince me to get naked, whether I want to or not.” He kissed my nose. “But, speaking of my nudity, I need to get dressed if we’re going to get to the show on time.”
I sat up to watch him. His body was so muscled and lean he could have been a Greek statue. I had never watched a guy get dressed before. He didn’t even have to look at his clothes. Everything he owned was bland, and it all matched everything else. He could pull the first shirt off of the first hanger and it matched every pair of pants he owned. He had two pairs of work boots. One pair was dirty with a frayed pair of laces. The other pair was dirtier with masking tape on the toe. He chose the dirty pair.
His socks had holes in them and his boxers were threadbare.
“Jake,” I suggested. “Maybe you should use your prize money to buy some socks without holes.”
Jake shook his head. “Can’t. If I buy my own socks, my dad has nothing to get me for Christmas.”
“Like in your stocking?” I felt a little babyish, but I wanted to know. I was spoiled, being an only child, and my stocking was always stuffed full of magazines, makeup, candy, and funny gag gifts. I also got a ton of stuff under the tree, all thoughtful, wonderful gifts Mom and Thorsten picked up and stored away all year long.
“No, like under the tree. I always get two bags of socks, a flashlight and fifty dollars.” Jake said it matter-of-factly.
“That’s all you get?” I tried to wrap my head around such boring, repetitive gifts. “Every year?”
“Yeah. It’s kind of weird that I get a flashlight every year, since they last. My father buys really good quality flash lights.” Jake opened his closet door and pointed to the top shelf. There was a collection of flashlights, all black and industrial looking.
“That’s so thoughtless and depressing,” I griped, disliking Jake’s father even more.
“I do get fifty bucks, Bren,” he pointed out. “So I can go buy myself something I like. Don’t feel bad for me.” He put his arm around me. “We have a tree and Dad buys turkey TV dinners. We even watch It’s a Wonderful Life together. I get to do Christmas stuff.”
I shook my head. Jake’s entire home life seemed so bland and depressing. How could someone so creative and passionate and loving have sprung to life in this soulless place? It didn’t seem possible. “It just seems…”
“Depressing?” he finished. “Only if you’re expecting something else. I’m not. I promise, it’s alright.”
It was just one of the many topics concerning Jake that it was better to avoid. It seemed to bother me more than it bothered him, so why argue about it? I forced myself to let it go. “Hey, I got you something for tonight.” I was happy to change the subject completely. His worn t-shirt made me remember. I grabbed my purse and pulled out a rolled shirt. “It’s one of the designs they’re selling tonight, but I did some extra stuff to it.”
“Thanks, babe.” He put it on right away. “What do you think?”
“Sexy.” It was a good fit. I had never seen him in anything but the boring neutrals, the blue button down (which was the fanciest clothing in his wardrobe), and his motocross outfit.
We got preoccupied with kissing for a while, and I almost didn’t want to leave. Despite the general sterility of his house, it was the most alone and relaxed we’d been able to be together. But he was intent that we get to the Folly show early.
“It’s your big night, Bren.” He pushed up off the bed and crooked his finger at me.
“It’s actually Folly’s big night,” I pointed out, still sprawled lazily, my head nestled in his pillows.
“Made even bigger by the fact that everyone will be wearing your shirts and it will be super cool. So let’s go.”
I groaned as he pulled me up off the bed, and laughed when he threw me over his shoulder. It looks thrilling in the movies, but it’s actually pretty uncomfortable.
“Ow!” I whined. “Your bony shoulder is digging into my gut.”
“Then you should have gotten your lazy ass up,” Jake said, still bumping me along, out the door and up the driveway. He flipped me into his arms like a baby and put me down in the car. “Oof. I’m glad I lift my dirt bike so much. You’re heavier than you look.”
I jabbed his arm. “You’re just weak. Maybe you should do a sport. You’re becoming a big lazy driver.”
“I don’t have time for sports.” He pulled my seatbelt across my lap and clipped the buckle. “Unless you consider pumpkin chucking a sport.”
“How did I wind up with such a hick for a boyfriend?” I griped happily. Jake laughed as he started the engine and we passed a few minutes with the only sound the constantly changing radio station, since I couldn’t find anything I liked. When Jake spoke next, he brought up what I knew had been bothering him all day.
“So, did Saxon bug you at the track?” His mouth was a tight, hard line.
“No.” I thought about Saxon walking away from the track after waiting for Jake to acknowledge him somehow. “Jake, I know he’s been crazy, but he really does care about you.”
“You’re getting sucked in again, Bren,” Jake warned. “Don’t fall for his shit. How many times does he have to screw you over before you believe that it really is all an act?”
I nodded. “You’re right,” I said, even though I didn’t think that at all. “It’s just, he was really concerned about you at the race.”
“He was probably praying I broke my neck on every jump so he could steal you away from me and have his wicked way with you.” He looked at me and wiggled his eyebrows like an evil villain in a bad play.
“Whatever,” I sighed. “I was there. I saw him.”
“Saw him putting on a convincing concerned-friend act. Trust me, he doesn’t give a shit about me. He was the one who gave me my first cigarette when I was ten.”
“You smoked?”
“Yeah, like a chimney, right up til I stopped hanging out with Saxon. He poured me my first shot, hooked me up with the first older girl I was…uh…with.” He blushed a little. “Just because he’s interested in hanging around you to get close to me doesn’t mean he really gives a crap, okay? He’s sneaky, but you’re smart. Don’t let him trip you up.”
Jake was being really understanding concerning the night before and my humiliating confessions. I had to drop it, even if I felt like there was something that just didn’t make sense.
The Folly concert was being held at a loc
al bar called the Red Pony. It was a pretty sad bar, but it had a stage and it was available. By the time Jake and I pulled up, there was already a nearly full parking lot.
And everywhere you looked, people were wearing my shirts!
I saw Kelsie working a table with a set of cardboard boxes marked “S,” “M,” “L,” and “XL.” I dragged Jake with me and we looked at the piles of my designs.
“That’s cool.” Jake picked one up and held it in front of him. “What do you think?”
“I think you’re wearing that shirt, you adorable fool,” I said cheerfully.
He kissed me. “You are both an entrepreneur and a sweet, sweet woman.”
“That’s me.” I kissed him back.
“Brenna, these are selling like crazy!” Kelsie called. “We only have five medium shirts left!”
“How many did we start with?” I ran my hand over the piles of tshirts that were being snatched up right in front of my eyes.
“Seventy!” she called back.
Wow. Kelsie got preoccupied, and Jake and I made our way to the Red Pony’s entrance when my cell beeped. I checked the text and held Jake up. “It’s my friend Devon.” We went to the parking lot where Devon was getting dropped off by his mother, who was still yelling cautions after him as he walked towards us. I waved, and she stopped yelling, then waved back. Maybe it relaxed her, because she pulled out and left.
“Hey Devon!” I gave him a quick, awkward hug. “How are you?”
“Good.” His smile was a little strained.
“This is Jake, my boyfriend,” I introduced.
“Hey, man.” Jake stuck his hand out. They shook.
“Wow, Brenna, everyone’s got one of your shirts on.” Devon craned his neck and looked around.
“Cool, right?” Jake squeezed me around the waist. “Do you guys want to go in?”
“Let me call Mom first.” Devon’s crazy mother had reminded me of my own sweet, sane one waiting back at home. I called and told her about the shirts, and she was excited for me and told me to have fun and call later. I fully appreciated my mother’s coolness, especially after I witnessed Devon’s mom’s relative insanity.
We headed to the door, paid our five dollar covers, got our red wristbands and headed in. If you were old enough to drink, you got a green wristband, but Folly’s fan base was relatively young, so those were few and far between. In the handful of minutes I left Jake to go and say hello to Kelsie, who had just been relieved from sales duty, a pretty brunette with a green wristband found him and was flirting outrageously.
Kelsie shook her head. “Jake is one serious girl magnet.” Jake was pointedly ignoring the girl and trying to talk to Devon. “Is that Devon Conner?” Kelsie asked.
“Yeah.” I watched them talk, and it looked like Devon was loosening up. Maybe. A little.
“He’s such a nice guy. He helped me with my algebra worksheet the other day in lunch.”
“Yeah, he’s cool.” I smiled when I heard Devon’s donkey bray of a laugh and saw Jake join in laughing with him.
“Chris is so excited,” she gushed. “Ooh, you’re wearing my necklace! It goes perfectly with your eyes. You look so cute!”
“You, too,” I said. “Hey, Jake had some big race today, and he won.”
“Motocross?” Kelsie looked at me with surprise.
“Yeah. It was actually really fun to watch. I didn’t think I’d like it as much as I did.”
“Was it the Vernon Valley Amateur?” Kelsie asked. “Did Jake win a set there?”
“Yeah. You know it?” Kimmy’s eyes were wide. I really wished I knew more about racing. “He was amazing. Is it a big deal?”
“I think so. My little brother said it’s the biggest in the northeast. I don’t think it’s big money or anything, but it’s super competitive.”
I was impressed all over again. “He’s full of surprises.” The group of girls around him was growing. “I think I have to go before he gets mauled.”
I made my way back to Jake and Devon. Devon was talking to a group of kids from Frankford, and Jake looked relieved when he saw me.
“Brenna!” The girls around him scowled and moved aside.
“I was talking to Kelsie.” I elbowed past his admirers and slid next to him. “She said your race was a pretty big thing. Like entire northeast big.”
He smiled. “Maybe a little.”
“You could have explained a little more about it to me.” I narrowed my eyes at him.
“You’re never interested in talking when I have you alone,” he said and kissed me quiet.
“Jake!” It was a whiny, feminine voice. And there was corset girl. Was she impervious to New Jersey’s cold autumn chill? Her deep tan was also strangely at odds with the rest of the pasty-looking crowd. “I saw your win,” she said, ignoring me. “That was a pretty incredible jump in the last leg.”
“Thanks, Shayla.” Jake pushed me forward a little, like he wanted to make sure couldn’t possibly miss me. Or like he was using me as his personal anti-groupie shield. “I really want you to meet my girlfriend, Brenna.”
“Hey,” she said to me with a little eye roll, then immediately looked back at Jake. “So, are you heading to Digman’s for the next set? I guess it’s a little pointless since you already placed at Vernon, but it’s going to be fun and everyone’s excited to see you race again. Me especially.”
Jake shrugged. “Brenna and I will talk about it. Good seeing you, Shay.” And he moved me on towards the stage. “Sorry. Just a girl from my distant past who never seems to go away.”
“It’s alright.” I put on my best tolerant face. “Sussex County must be pretty full of girls from your past.” I smiled for him and he relaxed a little.
That minute, Folly came out on the stage. The crowd went crazy, stomping, cheering and calling out.
The lead guitarist leaned over the microphone. He had a blue Mohawk and enough facial piercings to set off a metal detector from five feet away. “Hey guys. Thanks. We’re Folly, and we just want to say thank you for everyone who came to support us tonight.” The crowd screamed and cheered. “And, we see a lot of Folly tshirts out there. We want to give a special shout out to Brenna Blixen. Brenna, are you here?”
“Right here!” Jake yelled and pointed to me.
Folly’s lead guitarist smiled a devilish smile. “She is hot,” he said to Chris, and there were hoots and whistles from the crowd. “Thanks for the designs. We sold out, but there will be more at our next show at the Lodge in Vernon next month. Alright, let’s get this started. We’re dedicating this one to our man Devon, a true appreciator of music.” They started to play the opening strains of “Slow Dog,” and the cheers almost drowned out the beginning of the song.
I had never been to a show before, and it was amazing how alive and electric it felt. There were so many people crammed so close in a space that wasn’t designed to be so packed. A lot of the people sang along to the chorus, shouting the lyrics and dancing to the music.
Jake wrapped his arms around me and leaned close to my ear.
“So, the guitar guy likes you,” he said.
I turned towards him, wrapped my arms around his waist and squeezed. “You and I are both hot commodities in Sussex County I guess.”
“In a few years, you and me, we’ll be out of here for good. Just the two of us, no groupies, no mohawked rockers.” He kissed me again, and I felt a shock at his words.
Of course, they were probably just words that he said to add to my joke. Was he really thinking that far into the future? It was kind of ridiculous to even obsess about. If I went for the realist’s perspective, I had known Jake for less than a month.
That seemed the most shocking of all, put into such stark fact. Was it possible that just a few weeks ago I had lived an entirely Jake-free existence? My heart ached at the thought. He felt like he had always been somewhere in my life, waiting.
I turned back towards the stage and leaned on Jake. I moved my head to the side and bre
athed the smell of him in. I loved him. I loved Jake Kelly so much it made my heart thump. I stood in his arms through the next set, then Folly broke for an intermission. Jake offered to get me a soda, and I saw some guys come over and start talking to him. I was so busy spying on Jake, I didn’t notice that someone else had approached. Saxon grabbed my arm and pulled me towards the door.
“C’mon,” he said over his shoulder.
“No way, Saxon. No!” I dragged my feet. “Jake will be looking for me.”
“Five minutes,” Saxon pleaded.
Against my better judgment, I followed him into the cold night. “What do you need?” I still felt drawn to him. Even though he had abused my trust and Jake’s, there was something good at his core that made me want to give him another second chance, every single time I saw him.
“I have a confession, Brenna.” He ran his hands through his hair over and over and breathed hard. I looked at his bruised, scarred face. “I have never told anyone this, but I need to tell someone. I need to get this off of my chest, finally. I need to tell you.” He stopped and grabbed my arm again, and this time he led me even farther away from the din of the Red Pony.
“Saxon, what is it?” I shivered. He moved to pull me into his arms, but I backed away quickly. He kicked at the stones on the drive, grunting with frustration.
“I don’t know why everything has to be so fucked up.” He ran his hands through his hair again until it stuck up at slightly crazy angles. “I fucked up with Jake, I can’t leave you alone, and now I’m going to tell you this.”
I backed away again. “Don’t tell me.” My voice was smaller than I wanted it to be. “Whatever it is, I don’t need to know.”
“I have to. It’s more than I can stand.” He walked over to me and grabbed my shoulders hard. “When I see the look on your face when you see me, I want to break something, Brenna. But you might understand this whole shitty situation better if you just know this one thing.”
I wanted to bolt, but there was something in his black eyes that was desperate. He fumbled in his back pocket and pulled out his old leather wallet. He took out a faded, frayed-edged picture and handed it to me wordlessly.
Double Clutch Page 27
