by Melissa Jane
“Correction, that’s what you want me to be. But even if I were, you don’t treat any woman like that.”
His eyes blaze with a fury that rivals the bonfire. “I’ll destroy you, bitch. Just watch.”
Feeling unsatisfied with his suffering, I deliver my final blow. Swinging, my foot smashes between his legs enough to cause severe pain, but not too hard that I’ll destroy his chances of procreation. He makes a noise similar to a cow giving birth to an elephant and curls into the fetal position.
“Don’t ever threaten me again.”
If only he decided to be a gentleman, none of this would have happened.
I make to leave and catch the seemingly vacant stares of one of the stoners. His eyes widen in wonderment. “Whooo arrre yooou?”
Ignoring him because what does it matter, he won’t remember me in ten seconds, I turn to go the other way and see the threesome on the other log has indeed turned into a… threesome. Too caught up in their throes of passion, they never noticed what was occurring right next to them only moments earlier. Too bad, I could have done with a witness or two, just in case the asshole decides to run his mouth after all.
When I see Andy performing donuts in the golf cart to the cheers of a small gathering, I sprint across the grass in hopes I reach him before he takes others back to the house. I felt like a rodeo clown trying to dodge the raging and unpredictable bull, or in this case, the golf cart driven by a lunatic.
“Stop,” I yell, waving my hands at him. He slides to a halt and stares at me in concern.
“Did you go wandering off into the trees or something?”
He’s staring at my cheek. I touch it tentatively and even though I’m away from the fire’s glow, I see a shimmer of blood on my fingers.
“Something like that. Can you take me back to the house?”
“Hope on my ride, baby.” He pats the seat next to him, and realizing he’s harmless compared to dickhead Kevin, I jump in. “Hold on,” Andy warns, and I listen because I can smell the alcohol on his breath.
The trip back to the house seems like it takes forever. Mainly because Andy rambles away at a story which seems to have had no beginning or end for that matter. He sprinkles the narrative with a few jokes that, besides how my night has ended up, I find rather funny. When we pull up outside the house, I thank him and go to leave, but he grabs my wrist to stop me.
“You’re a pretty cool chick, Rosie. A bit weird, but cool.”
I smile because the dopey look on his face has rendered him a little endearing. The puppy- dog eyes and shaggy bangs don’t help. “Thanks, Andy. I could say the same about you.”
He winks and spins the buggy around before driving back into the darkness yahooing like he’s riding a horse from a country and western.
If someone doesn’t die tonight, it will be a miracle.
~
Ignoring those still loitering in the house having their own party inside, I search for the downstairs bathroom. Eventually I find it beside an office, but when I turn the handle, it’s locked.
“Shit,” I mutter. I jump back in shock when something repeatedly bangs on the door. The noise is followed by a series of moans and groans, but it’s hard to place whether someone is throwing up in there, or having sex, or both.
Backing away, I take to the stairs in search for the upstairs bathroom. Once on the landing, I see the painting Andy mentioned. I still can’t quite believe it’s hanging in his house. It was one of my favorites, and one I was sure would sell.
“It’s beautiful,” comes a voice I strangely find comforting, even if he is mimicking a pretentious art critic. “It really encapsulates the essence of being, with a cataclysmic… something or other.”
I smile despite myself.
“Jacob,” Chelsea’s annoyed voice rings out from one of the many bedrooms.
Urgh. Here we go again. They both must have left the bonfire earlier than me for some
‘privacy.’
My smile quickly fades recalling the nastiness from both of them earlier in the night. But that becomes an afterthought as Jacob takes my hand and yanks me into a darkened room. In that microsecond, I see a none-the-wiser Chelsea pulling her top over her head as she steps onto the landing.
“Let go,” I whisper harshly, attempting to free my hand as he quietly closes the door behind me.
“Shh!”
“Don’t tell me to shush! You don’t get to touch me with those hands after just fucking her. Did you even disinfect?”
“Jesus! I didn’t fuck her, Rosie,” he says, almost annoyed I’ve mentioned it.
It takes a moment for our eyes to adjust, but with the help of a small elephant nightlight glowing from the socket, I can just make out Jacob’s face, and he doesn’t look happy.
“Why get all defensive, it’s not like you haven’t.”
“Well then, this may surprise you, but Chelsea and I haven’t had sex.”
I scoff because that simply cannot be true. The whites of his eyes haven’t moved which means he’s still staring while I piece the puzzle together. “You haven’t? Jacob Xavier Lynch, are you still a virgin?”
“No,” he hisses, cautious of us being heard. “I’m not a virgin. I just haven’t had sex with Chelsea.”
Now, I’m genuinely perplexed. “Why not? She’s beautiful. A super annoying, super irritating bitch, but the prettiest girl in school.”
“Maybe you see that, but… she’s not you, Rosie.”
Blood drains from my face. Did he just…?
“What?”
“You’re the one I want, Rosie. Not her. Not anyone else. We’re just so caught up in avenging each other all the time that we… that I… never got around to telling you how I truly feel.”
“Are you lying to me right now because if you are, it’s far from funny, and could possibly be the cruelest joke you’ve ever played on me.”
Jacob cups my good cheek stroking his thumb. “You once asked me what my weakness is…” he pauses looking at me, “… it’s you. Rosie, it’s always been you. From the moment you walked across the street when I moved in, right now, to this moment where you’re standing only a breath away. It’s. Always. Been. You.”
Holy shit!
Jacob Lynch has fallen for Rosie Reign.
Nope. Nuh-uh. Not true! But what if it is?
Holy shit!
My brain momentarily leaves the building with his admission. “So… you don’t love Chelsea?”
“Fuck no.
“But—”
“People expect to see us together. Yet, I can’t even tolerate her. You seem so taken with Kevin, I had little choice but to be around her more so I can keep an eye on you two.”
“You’ve been watching out for me this whole time?”
He takes both my hands, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel butterflies. “Look… Kevin’s the master of shit talk. He’ll tell you anything you wanna hear. But he’s not a good person, Rosie, you have to believe me. I know things about him and his father that could see them both in prison.”
“You don’t need to tell me,” I say regretfully. “I found out tonight exactly what type of person he is.”
Jacob tenses like hell just froze over. “Why? What happened?”
“Typical shit which you probably tried warning me about, but I wasn’t listening.”
“Rosie, what did he do?”
“The asshole forced himself on me in front of everyone at the bonfire and became heavy-handed when I rejected him.”
“He hit you?”
I nod. “Took his rage out on my cheek.”
Frustrated, Jacob runs a hand through his tousled hair while pacing in front of the bed. “I’ll fucking kill him. I’m going to fucking kill him.” He moves past me searching for the light switch. Flicking it on, he gently lifts my chin and studies the damage.
Jacob takes a deep breath, his nostrils flaring. “Rosie, I’m so sorry he did this. I thought with all the people down at the bonfire, you’d b
e safe. But I’m an asshole for putting anything past him.”
“It’s okay, he came off second best, in the end.”
Jacob’s lips twitch, pausing a moment as he tenderly tucks my long hair behind my ear. “Rosie Rachel Reign, what did you do?”
“Nothing too terrible. Just a throat punch following by a swift kick to his genitals.”
His disarming smile becomes megawatt, and my heart beats a little faster because, well, his boyish charms have that affect. “You are officially my hero,” he confesses.
I giggle but silence when I hear her voice.
“Jacob… where the fuck are you?” Chelsea screeches, now royally pissed off.
Moving fast, I push the lock on the door and switch off the light, plunging us once again into darkness. When our eyes adjust, I swallow hard because even if we can barely make each other out, his stare penetrates straight through me, and it’s making me feel all kinds of things.
“Did you mean all those horrible things you said about me earlier?” I ask, referring back to outside the stadium.
“Of course, I didn’t. I was merely trying to keep you and Kevin at an arm’s length.”
“And what about Chelsea?”
“Chelsea’s searching for me because she was trying her best to have sex, and I told her I wasn’t interested and left. That’s when I found you. So, there is no Chelsea and me.”
“What are you going to do now?” I ask, breathy, because Jacob closes the space between us, our bodies now touching from chest to toe.
“What I should have done years ago.”
Without another word, Jacob lowers his lips to mine and kisses me gently. They’re beautifully soft but commanding, leading the way with my limited experience. Kissing Jacob is everything I’ve ever dreamed it to be, and when I wrap my arms around his neck, he deepens the kiss, holding me close as if our lives depend on each other. When our tongues meet, I melt and moan, letting him claim my mouth and loving the control he has over me. He tastes delicious. He feels delicious. And I want more until he has nothing left to give.
When we finally separate, panting foreheads resting against each other, I realize my world has forever shifted.
“What happens now… between us?”
“I know what I want. And that’s to have you in every way.”
“Like a relationship?”
“Nothing less.”
“But what if you change your mind? Like you come to your senses or something?”
“Rosie, you’re the only thing I’ve ever been sure about. I just never knew how to get you. Nothing and no one will ever come between us.”
“Nothing can ever tear us apart?”
He smiles. “Nothing can ever tear us apart.”
My heart swells, and I tremble, Jacob holds me tighter. A single tear slides down my cheek, and he must see it glisten, tenderly kissing it away. We’d been fools for denying ourselves so long. We’d made a sport out of putting roadblocks up, that we ignored what we’d both wanted all this time. Each other.
“Do you believe me?” he asks.
“Yes.”
Jacob takes my hand and upturns it, gently drawing an X over my palm. “You have my word, Rosie Reign.”
I take his hand and hold it the same, drawing an O instead. “And you have mine, Jacob Lynch.”
“Rosie,” comes a booming voice from out in the hall. I startle, feeling a sense of panic. “Rosie, where are you? Come out, come out, wherever you are.”
“Is that Kevin?” Jacob asks, listening closer.
“Rosie!”
“That’s him.”
“Fucking prick,” Jacob seethes, flinging the door open so hard the handle smashes into the wall. I reach out to stop him, but he’s too quick, catapulting himself into the hall and tackling an unsuspecting Kevin to the floor.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Kevin yells, unsuccessfully fighting off his friend.
Consumed with rage, Jacob doesn’t hesitate swinging a punishing blow to Kevin’s eye.
Hearing the commotion, Chelsea runs back up the stairs and looks on with horror.
“Why the fuck are you hitting Kevin, Jacob?” she screams, and then her eyes find mine. She looks between me and the boys wrestling and pieces it together, her eyes narrowing into razor-thin slits. “You fucking whore,” she spits. “I knew you were after him right from the beginning.”
“What the fuck, man,” Kevin says, his pride wounded.
Jacob grabs him by the scruff of his shirt and pulls his head off the floor, a finger pointed in warning. “That’s for laying your fucking hand on Rosie. Don’t you ever fucking go near her again, and if you so much as say her name, I’ll come back for round two. Do you fucking understand me?”
Kevin seems genuinely perplexed by his friend’s reaction. “I don’t know what she’s told you, but she’s a fucking nobody, Jacob. She’s fucking lucky I even looked her way.”
Roaring with rage, Jacob takes another swing, this time splitting Kevin’s lip.
“You’re a dog, man,” he moans through the pain. “You’re a fucking dog choosing her over me.”
“I’ve never chosen you over her, and it’s not about to start now. We’re done. We’re fucking done.”
A crowd of stunned onlookers has gathered on the stairs behind Chelsea watching in horror as two friends came to blows over a ‘nobody girl.’ I feel their incredulous stares eyeing me up and down, then I hear their nasty, gossiping whispers.
“You’ve just made your life a fucking living hell,” Chelsea warns with a cruel sense of victory.
“Nobody cares what you think, Chelsea,” Jacob warns as he rights himself. “So stop pretending that people should be scared of you.”
“Why are you doing this, Jacob?” Her eyes soften as she pleads with him. “You and I belong together. You don’t belong with someone like her.”
Jacob scoffs and takes my hand giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You and I certainly don’t belong together, Chelsea. And truth is, I actually can’t stand you. We’re done.”
Without another word from anyone, Jacob leads me down the stairs, people parting like the red sea to let us through. It’s only when we get downstairs, Chelsea leans over the balustrade railing to holler her last insult. “You can have him, slut. He’s a lousy lay anyway.”
A collective gasp sounds from the spectators. I hear Jacob chuckle before turning to face his ex. “Do you wanna know why I never wanted to fuck you?”
The question has her snapping her mouth closed, a glimmer of fear crossing her eyes. What can he possibly say to make her so nervous?
“I never wanted to fuck you because your breath smells like rotten tuna. So, I can only imagine what else does.”
The collective gasp turns to a mix of jeering laughter as a bitter and stony-faced Chelsea takes a step back, unwillingly accepting defeat.
Allowing Jacob to lead me to his car, we remain silent until both our doors close behind us. In the darkness, our eyes meet, a small smile playing on my lips.
“That was quite the showdown in there.”
Jacob sighs. “I’m sorry you had to witness that.” He clasps his hand in mine, and I’m surprised at how natural it feels. “I’m not a nasty person, but she’s called you enough names. I just had to slog something back. And… well… I wasn’t lying. Her breath really does stink.”
We both laugh at how the night turned itself on its head before finally righting itself.
“Did you ever think this is how we’d get together?” I ask as we travel down the long driveway back to the road.
“Not quite so dramatically, I have to be honest.” He smiles and even in the darkness, I see how at ease he is.
My heart swells, and I feel the need to pinch myself to see if this genuinely is my new reality.
“So…” he states with a newfound enthusiasm, “… where to now?”
I settle back into the seat. “Anywhere. As long as I’m with you.”
9
T
HEN
“Mr. Reign, I know you mustn’t have too great an opinion of me considering—”
“You don’t know what opinion I have of you,” my dad says. Little do they both know I’m hiding behind the living room wall listening to Jacob ask my father if I can go on a date with him. After the party last night, I told Jacob to pull into the curb half way up the street, so we could make-out for a moment longer than Andy’s house granted us. When we finally came up for air, and I smoothed my hair back into place, Jacob said he wanted to see me again the next day. Overcome with giddiness, I accepted the invite only to then turn him down because my father is old-fashioned and a romantic at heart and would strictly forbid me dating without the boy seeking consent.
So, that brings us to today where Jacob hasn’t shied away from the challenge, and my heart swells as I listen to him withstanding my dad’s tough exterior.
“You’re right, I don’t know. But you can rest assure—”
“There won’t be any resting while my daughter is out with any boy.”
“No, you’re quite right. Rosie is a tough girl and can take care of herself, but I understand your concern. You know me, Mr. Reign, I would never hurt her.”
“You two barely liked each other a month ago, so what’s changed? You’ve just noticed she’s got breasts?”
Dad!
“With all due respect, sir, your daughter had breasts since eighth grade. If that’s all I was interested in, I wouldn’t have waited until now.”
There’s a moment of silence. With a brutally honest response like that, this whole thing could go either way.
“I like your honesty,” Dad confirms, and I sigh in relief. “But don’t ever talk about my daughter’s breasts again.”
I clasp a hand over my mouth to stop the giggle.
“No, sir, breasts are off-limits.”
“As is everything else.”
“Of course.”
“And if you break my daughter’s heart, I’ll break you. Do you understand?”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
“You can come out now, Rosie,” Dad calls gently.
I gasp, frozen in place in the sheer horror of it all. When I finally build up the courage, I round the corner, and when my father isn’t looking, Jacob throws me a sexy wink. He looks mouth-watering in a white linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. In that fleeting moment, I take a second to appreciate how the shirt contrasts with his beautiful tanned skin and jet-black hair. And a pair of blue jeans that hang from his hips so perfectly, has my thoughts turning dirty.
