“You have fun last night, party girl?” he teases me in a quiet voice.
Then I fully remember why I went out last night. Not only had I passed my biology midterms, but I’d gotten good grades in all of my other courses as well.
“Today is the last day of this half of the semester,” I say, suddenly sitting upright.
“Yeah?” Mick turns into me, cuddling against my side.
Looking down at him, I brush his burnt auburn hair off his forehead. “I usually take myself to the beach today, walk in the water, and maybe grab lunch. It’s the last nice day of the season, typically, and it’s tradition. Would you want to come?”
It’s a big thing, me inviting him to my beach day. I’ve done it since freshman year, before Christine and Madison were my true friends. I needed to get away, to be alone before I went home to the frigidity of life with my parents. I usually do this more than once a year, and find places off the beaten path like the seafood hut I took Mick to before, but this end of midterm beach day is an annual thing.
“Sure.” He looks at me, and I can tell that he knows this is more than an invitation to walk on the sand.
With the sheet falling away from me, I see that I’m naked. “Did you undress me last night?”
Mick shrugs. “When you fell asleep on my pillow like some kind of cat who’d claimed her territory, I figured I’d take your heels off. Might fall on your way to a late night bathroom trip. And then I figured it would only make you more comfortable if you weren’t wearing that dress.”
I roll my eyes, because it’s such a guy answer. “Well, you better get me a big T-shirt, because I’m not wearing that thing home. And we’re stopping off at my place on the way.”
Thirty minutes later, and we’re sitting in the front seat of his car, on the way to the beach. I changed into a pair of jean shorts and a light sweater, with the weather turning as it is. After that, I grab two of the beach chairs I keep stocked, and a small cooler with waters and lemonade. I never drink on this outing, it’s kind of a sacred thing.
“So you do this every year?” Mick asks, following the GPS on his phone that’s mounted on the dashboard.
I nod. “Yep. I started freshman year. I was in a weird phase, not really feeling a part of anywhere. I didn’t live at home anymore, and the dorm didn’t feel like the place I belonged either. I was questioning some of the friendships I’d made, and then I read something that being near water helped to center you, so I decided to give it a try. It actually worked, so I come back often, but this trip I do alone right before I go home to …”
I trail off, not really knowing how to describe my parents.
“You don’t really talk about them a lot,” Mick says, acknowledging that I was about to say something about my home life.
“You don’t either,” I counter, being defensive.
His jaw tics. “You’re right. But you told me you’d be there for me if I ever needed it, and I want to be able to give you the same. You can talk to me.”
Those strong hands and serious eyes stay trained on getting us to our destination, but I know he’s listening.
I shrug, not knowing where to start. I’ve never expressed any of this to anyone.
“I guess it makes me sound like a spoiled brat, because I’ve never really wanted for anything, but I haven’t had the best life. Sure, I had money, and things. My parents fixed most everything that did go wrong, up until last year with this suspension. But I’ve never really had anyone care about me. They were always too busy with work, or their social scene, charities, you name it. They’d bring me along, but we weren’t really doing things together. A lot of people would call me ungrateful, but going to different countries and on lavish vacations isn’t really fun if no one wants to spend time with you. It’s the same when I go home now. We sit down to a meal that none of us helped to cook, don’t talk about anything of substance, and then they go off into their own little world.”
Mick’s hand reaches across the middle console and lands on my thigh. “That doesn’t sound spoiled, it sounds neglected. I’m sorry that’s how they are.”
I shrug. “I’ve gotten used to it, but it still sucks. Especially when they can’t fix a problem. The one thing they’ve managed to do, protect me when the odds aren’t in my favor, is the one thing they failed at this time, which is why I’m in this situation with both schools and my suspension.”
“You still never told me what happened with the suspension,” he says as he turns into the parking lot I directed him to.
The engine cuts, and then we’re just sitting there. It’s the most intimate moment I’ve ever had with another person, and we’re not naked or about to do something physical. To me, expressing feelings and emotions is much scarier than getting into bed with someone. This is a real, deep conversation we’re having, and Mick has seen a side of me I’ve never shown anyone else. That’s … heavy.
“I was drunk, with a bunch of my friends you’ve probably seen me around with. We decided to jump into the fountain, the one in front of the drama building. And … do it naked. They also brought spray paint cans. My friends happened to hear the campus police sirens, I did not. I got caught, and wouldn’t give up the other names. My dad struck a deal with the dean.”
It was a simplified version, but now Mick knew more about me than anyone else in my life. I’d kept that story in for so long, that it felt cathartic to let it out.
“So none of your friends came forward?” he asks, anger in his eyes as he turns to me.
I hold my hands up, trying to stop his hate train. “No, they didn’t know I even got caught. I didn’t tell them. They don’t deserve to be sucked into that mess. Remember, they don’t even know I’m suspended.”
“You sacrificed yourself for your friends. You could have given them up, taken the easy deal. I’m sure it would have been offered.” Mick appears to be chewing this over. “I’d say that’s pretty honorable of you.”
That makes me blush, and I clear my throat. “Should we go walk a bit?”
Green eyes seem to peer into my soul. “You’re a really special person, Jolie. I don’t think you’ve heard that enough, but I’m telling you now.”
I blink at him, because he makes me feel like I’m worthy of being with the kind of person he is. “Thanks.”
“All right, let’s go walk. Maybe I’ll throw you in the ocean.” His smile taunts me as he moves to get out of the car.
For two years, I’ve been coming to this spot alone, a part of the beach with a neat cove you can explore. It’s on the end of the island located near campus, and there isn’t much but a couple of gorgeous houses down this way.
Mick and I walk for an hour, maybe more, up and down the sand, talking and flirting and splashing each other.
I thought I would always walk this spot alone, but I found out today that walking it hand in hand with someone who is quickly becoming my everything … well, that’s even better.
25
Mick
Thanksgiving break is a blur, with a visit home doing nothing to calm my nerves.
I manage to get into three fights with Mom in the four days I’m home. They’re all over Dad’s care and what I don’t think she’s doing right. I make her cry on more than one occasion, and Dad gets so angry that his blood pressure sky rockets and I have to have one of his doctor’s call in a new prescription on the morning of Thanksgiving.
I don’t mean to be an asshole, but giving up the reins after being his full caretaker for almost three years is difficult. And with all I’m learning in Dr. Richards’ lab, I feel like I can implement so many new things to give him a better quality of life.
Overall, the day of Thanksgiving is nice. We all cook together, well, Mom and I cook while Dad sits in his wheelchair watching us. I tell them about school, and the internship. I watch some football with Dad, because I know he loves it, even though I can’t stand sports.
But the next day, I had to go back to campus. The research stage of the trial, befo
re it even started, was getting intense, and Dr. Richards needed all hands on deck.
Something about being home, about taking on such a heavy load of schoolwork and internship and everything else that was going on in my life … it was getting to me.
Not to mention I haven’t seen Jolie in a week. I hate to admit that it’s one of the things putting me most on edge, but it is. We’ve texted every day, and talked on the phone once or twice, but it isn’t the same. The woman is becoming my addiction, as unrealistic as that is. I’m a scientist, a simply left-brained individual who, before, never believed in all that “love cures all” or “feeling with your heart” mentality.
But I haven’t felt her against me in too long, and I’m starting to go insane because of it.
It’s a good thing she’s coming to this benefit dinner tonight … though maybe it’s not because it’ll be a solid couple of hours where I can’t put my hands on her.
Dr. Richards insisted that all the interns working on the ALS clinical trial be in attendance for this benefit auction dinner and said we could bring a date. The dinner is more like a gala where rich donors for the university and the medical school come to hob knob while throwing money at us to fund our trial. The medical school’s auditorium has been transformed into a black and silver ball sort of thing, with ribbons and fancy tablecloths everywhere. There is a quartet playing in the corner, and the auction tables are on the back wall.
I peruse them as I wait for Jolie, and I’m honestly stunned that people can even afford to own stuff like this in the first place, much less auction some of the experiences off. One week at this couple’s home in Aspen, another weekend at a private estate in Martha’s Vineyard. Tickets to Broadway shows, courtside seats to a Bobcats game, and a wine tour of Italy for two weeks. I think I even see a private yacht experience down the row.
Yeah, I can’t afford any of that. But if rich people are going to spend their money to fund a cause that might somewhere down the line cure my dad’s disease? I’m all for it.
I’d never asked someone to accompany me to something. Hell, I hadn’t even asked someone to my senior prom. I wasn’t sure how to go about it, so one night over break I’d called Jolie and just asked her. She seemed flattered and smitten, in a way only girls can seem when you ask them out somewhere fancy.
My next problem was securing a suit nice enough for the event. Mom had pulled out one of Dad’s old suits, and it fit well enough, though I probably looked like a chump compared to the people attending this benefit.
The doors to the auditorium open, and a bunch more people spill in. There must be at least two hundred people here so far, and more keep coming.
A flash of deep purple catches my attention, the crowd parts, and there she is.
Jolie, standing there in that dress, knocks the air out of my lungs.
She walks down the aisle, her mocha waves fluttering over her shoulder as she turns her head this way and that, looking for me. All of those locks look like molten chocolate, flowing down her back and around her shoulders. The deep purple, almost black gown looks velvet and hugs every curve of her perfect body. Her eyes are rimmed with dark makeup, and the effect only makes her look even more like some kind of earth angel among us ordinary specimens.
When she catches my eye, she smiles, her mauve lips full and painted. My cock twitches at the thought of smearing it off.
My heart gallops double-time, and my hands both sweat with anxious energy and itch to touch her.
“Thank you for coming. You look … holy crap.” I can’t stop looking at her.
Jolie’s cheeks flush a shade of pink, and she chuckles. “I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you curse.”
“That outfit, you … it’s deserved.”
“I’m just glad you asked me. I don’t like not seeing you, and you clean up pretty well.” She moves into me, pressing up on her toes to give me a kiss on the cheek.
It’s been seven days since we touched each other, since we laid eyes on each other, and I suddenly wish I hadn’t seen her here first. The strongest urge to pull her into a dark corner and kiss her senseless comes over me, and I know I need to get it under control. This is an important night for the trial, and I want to represent Dr. Richards well.
“I missed you, too.” I breathe into her hair and then kiss the top of her head.
Those words, and the gesture, are more intimate than just a casual girl on my arm at a benefit gala.
On the quiet nights at home, where my parents slept in the room a door over and my college roommates weren’t screaming at their video games in our dorm room, I thought about her. I thought about how serious things had become, how each time I was with her, it was getting harder and harder to hold that four-letter word on my tongue. I’m falling in love with Jolie, in such a natural way that it scares me. So clearly, I can see how she would fit into my life. When I have a bad day, she’s the one I want to lean on, and when I pass a test or get great feedback from Dr. Richards, she’s the one I want to tell.
“This is so cool. And this is all for the trial?” Jolie asks, looping her arm in mine.
“Yeah, they have some pretty swanky auction items and trips over there. Want to open your checkbook?” I wink at her.
She gives me a devilish smile. “You know, my parents were a pain in the ass over break. Dropping a couple thousand of their money for a good cause might make me feel better.”
Jolie had texted me nonstop about the horrible behavior her parents exhibited over Thanksgiving. They hadn’t even bothered to come home for the first three days and claimed they forgot she was going to be home for break. Then, on the fifth day, which was Thanksgiving, they sat down for half an hour, scarfed turkey while looking at their cell phones, and went to a cocktail party that night with friends. Her mom made endless comments about her weight, while her father only spoke to her once and it was to scold her about the trouble she’d gotten in last year. I haven’t even met them, and I despise them. They couldn’t see the gem they had in front of them, and most of the recklessness or irresponsibleness she exhibited was a direct causation of their lack of love and parenting.
“Win us the yacht trip, that one sounds cool.” I wrap my arm tighter around hers, supporting her as she walks.
“Only if you wear a Speedo, real European style.” She winks at me.
I crack up. “That would be something, huh? Since we’re being European, you’re going topless, right?”
Jolie’s eyes flash at my forwardness. “I think I like a suited-up Mick. He’s very flirty.”
My eyes roam over her body. “It’s the dress, it’s doing things to me.”
“Should we blow this popsicle stand?” she suggests.
I look around, spotting Dr. Richards. “I wish we could. Let’s at least make it through dinner before I think of unzipping that with my teeth.”
“Jesus, Mick.” Jolie presses her free hand to her cheeks, the skin there going scarlet.
I think I like being able to take her by surprise.
We check ourselves in at the table where two women sit, directing people to which tables they are to sit at. I give my name, and they confirm our attendance and then give us two tickets for the bar, and our table number. When we make it to the table, I see it’s filled but for our two chairs, and that we’re sitting with the rest of the interns on the trial.
“Mick.” Jeremy, one of the third-year medical students who is a lead on the trial, nods at me.
“Hi everyone.” I nod at them. “This is Jolie.”
They introduce their dates, and we all fall into the normal small talk. At first I’m a little concerned. Not only is this not Jolie’s type of crowd, but they might not take kindly to her either.
About twenty minutes in, I realize I have nothing to worry about. She’s elbow deep in a self-deprecating story about a time she spent in the hospital getting her appendix removed. She tried flirting with a doctor to get her more mint chip ice cream. Little did she know, it was actually the jan
itor who had come to empty her garbage can, and she was too high on the drugs in her IV to notice.
My fellow interns are enthralled with her, it’s written all over their faces. This is one of her best attributes; her ability to play to a crowd. She holds court over any room she’s in, and it complements me. I don’t have to do the heavy lifting of small talk, which I hate. Plus, I get to watch her magic at work.
It only serves to make me fall harder for her.
How the hell am I going to keep from telling this girl that I’m in love with her?
26
Jolie
“Morning.”
Mick kisses my neck, gently moving up and down the column.
I twist into him, giving my muscles a good stretch as he heats up everything south of my waistline.
“Good morning to you.” I can’t help but press my bare chest farther into his bare chest.
Is it weird that this no longer scares me? That the feeling of waking up next to him gives me butterflies instead of panic-inducing nausea. That I’d prefer a future where we wake up together every day?
I’ve never felt this way about anyone, and a few weeks ago it would have scared the crap out of me. But the more Mick and I get into this routine, the more of a fixture he is in my day to day, the more I realize that this could be normal for us going forward.
And the more I realize that it’s exactly what I want.
If he’s not sleeping in my bed, I’m usually in his, despite the one or two nights a week that our schedules don’t match up and we can’t fall asleep next to each other. What was supposed to be casual, just a good time, has now turned into a relationship. It’s just that neither of us are saying it.
It’s almost halfway through the second term of the first semester, and Christmas break is only less than a month away. With my own diligence, and Mick’s help in the science courses, I’m passing community college with flying colors. He’s also, of course, maintaining his 4.0 GPA and is busy as ever with his medical internship. Though I can see the constant worry in his eyes over whatever is going on at home.
Nerdy Little Secret Page 12
