by Abby Jimenez
He’d snuggled me so hard. He never let me go once. I actually started smiling down at the potato salad thinking about it.
He’d also put a pillow between us at one point. That made me smile too.
“So third-base stuff, then?” she asked.
“Actually, no. We haven’t done anything other than kissing.”
She looked at me like I had two heads. “You haven’t even touched his penis yet? Why?”
“Lower your voice!” I whispered, shooting a look at the door.
“I swear to God, if there isn’t penis touching in the very near future, this friendship is over. That’s what I want for my birthday gift.”
“For me to touch Jason’s penis?”
“Yes.”
“Darn. I got you some lotions from Bath & Body Works,” I said, turning out my lower lip in a mock pout.
The truth was, keeping my hands off him was getting harder and harder to do. The struggle was real. I didn’t even want to admit to myself how quickly I’d decided to go to Nordstrom’s lingerie department instead of Walmart to replace all the underwear Tucker chewed up. And I definitely didn’t want to own up to how much red I’d bought.
“I like him,” Kristen declared.
I went back to chopping celery. “I like him too.” Then I set my knife back down. “Kristen? I really like him. Like, a lot. Oh,” I said, remembering, “and he’s officially my boyfriend by the way.”
She reared back. “You have a boyfriend you’ve known less than a month? Wow. Does Jason know he’s making history here? How did he get you to agree to that?”
I narrowed my eyes. “There was a lot of wordsmithing. It was all very confusing.”
She grinned. “The flash-bang chaos campaign. My favorite. It’s how Josh got me to marry him.”
I snorted.
She picked up a piece of celery and waved it over my body. “Well, it works. You even look like a rock star’s girlfriend.”
I smiled. “I made him dinner last night. And breakfast this morning.”
Her eyes flew wide. “You did? You’re cooking again?”
“I am.” I wrinkled my nose. “I sort of have to or we’ll end up eating camping food every morning.”
She laughed and she looked genuinely happy.
I took a deep breath. “I’m trying, Kristen. I really am trying.”
Her eyes went soft. “Good. Keep doing it. And fall for him. And when you do, make sure you swing from every fucking branch on the way down.”
* * *
At dinner Jason reached under the table and laced his fingers in mine. I wondered what had happened outside. I hoped Josh’s questions hadn’t been too invasive. It appeared my boyfriend still liked me, but the night was young.
Kristen tossed me a small bag of Doritos and I opened it and poured them onto my plate. But when I went to flatten the bag, she scolded me. “Uh, uh, uh. That’s not how we do it.”
I glared at her.
She dumped her own bag and then turned it inside out on her hand like a foil mitten. She waved it at me, waiting for me to do the same.
Ugh.
“If Jason can take you at your best, he can take you at your bag of Doritos,” she said.
Josh snorted and went back to his corn on the cob. Jason eyed me and I let out a sigh. Technically Jason had never seen me at my best. Why start now, I guess, right?
I put my bag inside out on my hand and waited for Kristen to start. The least she could do was kick off the ridiculous practice. We’d been doing this since the sixth grade. It was kind of a tradition. When she began licking the bag, I started licking mine too.
“The inside of the bag’s the best part,” I said to Jason, lamely. “And it’s her birthday. I have to.”
He laughed and took my hand again, kissing it this time in front of everyone.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you!” Kristen said, holding up her bag hand like an idiot. “We have an activity tonight. Karaoke!” She looked back and forth between Jason and me with her “yay” face.
“Aaaaaand the shoe drops,” I said, crumpling my chip bag and flinging it at her.
Kristen looked proud of herself and Josh shook his head, wiping his mouth with a napkin in his best I’m-staying-out-of-it performance of the night.
“Kristen, no. I’m sure Jason doesn’t want to hear us sing. I’m sure that Jason doesn’t want to sin—”
“I love karaoke,” Jason said.
“He loves karaoke!” Kristen beamed at Jason.
“I’m going to kill you,” I breathed, only half kidding.
After dinner, when the plates were cleared, Kristen and Josh went to fire up the microphones and I cornered Jason in the kitchen.
“I am so, so sorry,” I said, putting my forehead to his chest. “I told you. I told you this would happen.”
He smiled down on me. “What? Karaoke?”
“Yes!” I said, looking up at him. “She’s trying to get you to sing!”
“I do sing professionally. This isn’t particularly distressing for me.”
“It’s distressing for me!”
If he turned into Jaxon Waters in front of me, I was going to pass out.
“Why?” he said, tipping my chin up. “You don’t want me to sing for you? Still a little traumatized by the car wash a cappella?” He smiled, doing that thing where he puts his mouth really close to mine and I can’t focus anymore. He normally reserved this type of behavior for our good-night kiss on the porch. It was highly distracting.
“Uh-huh,” I murmured, not remembering the question.
He pulled away a little, letting me get my wits back. “I’m having a good time. Relax. Josh warned me about the karaoke. He said he’d talk her out of it if I wasn’t okay with it. It’s totally fine.”
“Josh told you?”
“He did. Also, I have no idea how to spell ‘chlamydia.’”
I snorted.
He leaned in and whispered against my mouth again. “You’re going to tell me everything Kristen said on the way home, right?”
“Uh…she said to swing from branches and touch your— No,” I said, shaking myself out of my stupor.
“Touch my what?” he asked, grinning.
The sound of “Love Shack” began to spill through the doorway. Josh started the song and Kristen broke in with “Loooove SHACK!”
I rolled my eyes. “These two plan to close the place down.”
He smiled. “Let’s go in there before they think we’ve snuck off for a quickie.”
“Kristen is all for me jumping your bones. It wouldn’t surprise me if both our beers were spiked with ecstasy. In fact, don’t drink anything she gives you.”
“I don’t need a drug to want to take you for a quickie,” he said, sliding his hands under the bottom of my shirt so he held me by the bare skin of my waist. He put his mouth by my ear. “Will you come with me to Minnesota this weekend?”
I literally started choking on my own saliva. “To Minnesota? Like, to meet your parents? Tomorrow?”
“Yes, to meet my parents. And my asshole of a brother, David.”
The asshole comment made me laugh. Then my eyelid started twitching.
He nuzzled his nose to mine. “I don’t know when I’ll be out there again, and I want you to come with me. It’s really casual. My parents are very laid back.”
I didn’t want to go three days without him. But meeting his parents? Already? And wasn’t Minnesota really, really cold?
“Jason, I’ve been your girlfriend for like five minutes.”
“Yeah, and I already told them all about you.”
I pulled my face back to look at him. “You did? What did you say?”
“The truth. That you held my dog ransom until I agreed to go out on a date with you.”
I hit him and he chuckled.
“Come on. Don’t make me miss you for three days. It’ll be fun. Come with me.”
He said he’d miss me. I melted.
“Okay,” I said.
He beamed. “Yes?”
“Yes. Fine. Take me to Minnesota.”
Screw it. Why not? What else was I going to do while he was gone besides wish I were with him?
He smiled and put his forehead to mine, pulling me closer to him. “I want something else,” he said to my eyes.
I arched my eyebrow, but he just laughed.
“Not that. Although I wouldn’t mind that,” he added. “I want you to cook with my mom when we get there. It would mean a lot to her.”
I rubbed my nose to his. “You couldn’t stop me if you tried.”
He smiled and was leaning in to kiss me when Kristen popped her head into the kitchen. We jumped like teenagers who’d just gotten caught making out on the sofa.
“Hey! Get a room!” she said, talking into the microphone so it reverberated through the house. Then she whispered into the mic, “Seriously, the guest room is all made up. Make yourselves comfortable.” She bit her lip and bounced her eyebrows and then disappeared back into the living room.
Jason and I put our heads together and laughed.
“Come on. I want to sing a duet with you,” he said.
I groaned.
“Need a shot of courage? I bet Kristen has some tequila.” He grinned.
“Tequila officially tastes like the time I almost died. I’m going to have to go it sober.”
He chuckled and dragged me into the living room by the hand.
When “Love Shack” was over, Kristen roped me into singing “Hopelessly Devoted to You” with her. I died of embarrassment, but it was her birthday and Kristen was happy and that was what mattered.
Then the inevitable happened and Jason’s turn was up.
“What do you want me to sing?” he asked Kristen. “Any requests?”
“‘The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald,’” she said, without even thinking about it.
It was for me. There was no question. I was going to kill her.
Jason put a thumb over his shoulder. “Hey, you know, I have my guitar in the truck. Would it be okay if I got it?”
Kristen’s eyes flew wide. “Seriously? Yes. Yes, you can get it. Are you kidding me? Go!”
Jason got up and went out to the truck. Josh and Kristen looked stoked. And why wouldn’t they be? They’d gotten a Grammy-winning musician to serenade them at their barbecue. I, on the other hand, felt a fine sweat breaking out across my forehead.
I was just getting used to the idea of having a boyfriend. I was still months away—maybe even years—from getting used to the idea that he was Jaxon Waters. The only way that I dealt with this fact was by doing my best to forget it. I was completely not ready for this.
Kristen and Josh sandwiched me on the sofa, elbow to elbow. Jason came back in with a guitar case and I felt myself being sucked into his vortex, just watching him pulling out his instrument. I was a complete groupie, it was embarrassing. I wondered if he could tell.
I picked up a Parenting magazine from the coffee table and started to fan myself while Jason stood in front of the TV, tuning his strings. That alone was enough to give me heart palpitations. But when he began to play…That was absolutely unreal. It was all over for me. I was officially in love.
He was incredible.
Jason had a voice like honey and coffee grounds, sweet and textured. It was so much better in person than on the album. It didn’t even seem possible that it was this good. He was so talented. I wanted to slap myself for not wanting to let him sing to me sooner—and at the same time, I knew that if he had, I’d have confused my feelings for him with my feelings about him.
He was going to be famous. Really, truly famous. He had it all. The looks, the talent, the presence. I could see it as clearly as anything I’d ever known.
And this was my boyfriend. I said it over and over again in my mind. This man wanted me.
I felt flattered and lucky. Then I felt nervous and unworthy. I ran through a symphony of emotions as he played, and the whole time he sang, he smiled at me, like he was just happy I could see this side of him.
And I was happy too. Because Jason and Jaxon were definitely the same man.
* * *
When I jumped up to wrap my legs around his waist, the motion sensor activated and the floodlights poured over my porch. They used to be broken.
Damn Jason for fixing things around here like he’d said he would.
It was after midnight. My neighborhood was quiet, but I wasn’t a fan of the full-fledged stage lights. He pressed himself against me, pinning my back to the front door as he kissed me. His hands gripped me under my thighs and his hips pushed between my legs, grinding into me.
God, what would this feel like horizontal?
The tension had been building between us the entire evening. Even Kristen’s shenanigans and the awful duet Jason had forced me to sing with him hadn’t lessened it. He’d been touching me and kissing me all night, right in front of Kristen and Josh. They didn’t care. They probably handed him a condom on the way out.
As soon as he got me alone on the porch, we’d pounced on each other.
The light shut off and I smiled against his mouth. Then it came on again, dousing us in the brightness of ten thousand suns, and I grimaced.
“We could go inside…” he whispered, and his eyes came up to mine, his breathing hard.
Oh, hell.
I nodded and wrapped an arm around his neck. I felt around behind me for the knob, and when I turned it, the door gave way and we almost fell into the living room.
He staggered a few feet before regaining his balance. We laughed a little, but we didn’t stop kissing. He kicked the door closed behind us and whirled me onto the sofa, sliding over me in the dimness, pressing himself against me.
All of him pressed against me.
I gathered the bottom of his T-shirt and tugged it up. “Take this off,” I said breathlessly. I needed to run my hands along his chest, feel the outline of his six-pack under my fingers, trace the trail of hair that descended down into his pants.
He yanked his shirt over his head and was back on me in under two seconds. I was thoroughly impressed. “I have never seen a man take his shirt off that fast,” I breathed as his lips fell on my neck.
“You should see how fast I can get yours off.”
I snorted and his hand wandered up the bottom of my shirt. I didn’t stop him. He hiked my leg up around him and I ran my palms over the curve of his broad, bare shoulders.
I wanted to feel the sear of my skin pressed to his. I scooted to sit up and peeled off my shirt and his fingers were around my back, unhooking my bra, before my top hit the floor. He poured over me, pushing me back down.
My body was alive, blood in my cheeks, my ears, my heart drumming in my chest.
His hands were everywhere. I actually looked down to make sure he only had two.
I wanted him. Sweet baby Jesus, I wanted this man. He knew what to do with me. I could tell. He would tune me and play me like his damn guitar. God, every inch of him was toned and solid. He was so strong and he smelled so good.
“I’m on the pill, okay?” I breathed. “For my periods.”
“I got tested last month. I’m clean. And Kristen gave me a condom. So did Josh.”
I laughed and it was drowned by his lips back on mine.
This was real. This was happening.
My breathing was ragged when I reached for the top of his pants and his breath hitched as I tugged at his belt. Then something in the familiar metallic clink of the buckle whipped me instantly back into the room.
Brandon. The last time I did this was with Brandon.
I sobered in a heartbeat. All the passion bled right out of me. I fell back onto the cushions, limp. “Jason, I can’t.”
His hands stilled immediately. All twelve of them.
“I’m not ready. I’m sorry,” I whispered.
He hovered over me and put his forehead to mine and closed his eyes, catching his breath. His chest pressed into my bare breasts
and I could feel exactly how much he wanted me, digging into my leg.
God, I felt awful. I should never have let him inside. The porch was safe. Bright as hell, but safe. The porch didn’t come with expectations.
With possibilities.
He breathed against me for a minute, and I felt him cooling down.
“I just need more time. It’s too soon.” I bit my lip. “Don’t be mad at me.”
He opened one eye and looked at me gently. “I’m not mad. I could never be mad at you for that. Look at me.” He held my eyes. “I get it. And I want you to be ready. You’re not doing either of us a favor if you rush things. Okay?”
It was so earnest it made my heart melt. “Okay.”
He smiled softly at me and kissed my forehead. Then he reached up and grabbed a throw blanket and pulled it over me, tucking it under my arms, and got up and put on his shirt.
I sat up on the sofa and clutched the blanket to my chest and I watched him as he went to let Tucker out of the laundry room. The dog bounded over to me and jumped into my lap, licking me.
Jason leaned down with a hand on the top of the sofa and kissed me. “I’ll pick you up for the airport at five thirty. Get some sleep.” He smiled at me.
“Thank you for understanding.”
He shook his head. “You’re worth the wait. You’re worth everything.” He winked and let himself out, and Tucker followed him, close on his heels.
Chapter 19
Jason
♪ Misery Business | Paramore
Time to move. Lola Simone was sitting on the step of my trailer.
I slammed the door to my truck. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Tucker let out a low growl next to me.
She sat on the metal stair, lit by the lights of the pool, with her back against my door, smoking a joint. She wore a tiny silver dress and she spread her legs in answer to my question, balancing on the heels of her stilettos. She wasn’t wearing panties.
“Oh, Jesus, come on,” I said, looking away from her. “Enough of this shit, Lola. Get up.” I looked back at her.
She didn’t budge.
“Lola, now. Leave.”
“Already? I just got here.” She grinned up at me, her eyelids heavy. “Talk about a quickie,” she muttered.
