Journey to the Unknown

by Jacqueline Francis

  All she was doing now was pushing those supple tits even closer together. Click. His eyes were drawn to the tight line between her breasts, travelling over her forearms to the hard line down her stomach. Click. Moving lower to the V at her hips, like an arrow directing all his thoughts to one place. Click. It didn’t help that at the curve of her hipbone was the tattoo she’d told him about, a small, delicate flower which looked a lot like a Jasmine. Only half of it was exposed, the other half hidden beneath her low-cut panties and he was dying to see the rest of it. Click.

  She looked around the room and cleared her throat as the awkward tension built in the room. Her lips pursed and she let out a weighted breath. “Just…um…just let me know when you’re ready to…I don’t know…give me some privacy…I guess.”

  “Leaving right now.”

  Yet still he stayed and still he stared, his dick straining harder against his jeans. Click. After a few more stilted moments and a few more clicks for the mental Jasmin Shrine, he felt like he was finally ready for that cold shower.

  He slowly stepped away and walked into the bathroom, taking deep, slow breaths to calm himself. That body—which in no way resembled a twelve-year old boy—had been beneath him last night. If he knew then what he knew now, it was safe to say that they wouldn’t have spent the rest of the night watching movies. He didn’t need this.

  Her Jasmin eyes and those perfect, succulent lips made her beautiful. Her inexperience and insecurities made her vulnerable. Her weird jokes and all her crazy made her likeable. But that body…that body made her fuckable. And once he stirred all that shit together, what he got was a gigantic bag of complications. It wasn’t going to blow over in a few days.

  But right now, he couldn’t think about that. His dick was taking strain. All he could think about was what he wanted to do to her. He wanted to taste every part of her, feel those luscious ass cheeks in the palm of his hand, hear her moan as he slid inside her.

  He took in another deep breath. What he needed right now was twenty…maybe thirty minutes…to himself.

  “Fuck you, Alfred!” he said, slamming the door shut.

  * * * * *

  Jasmin switched off the hairdryer, then twisted her long hair into a neat braid. They were going hiking today, so she wasn’t going to leave it down, but she had decided to take heed of other words of wisdom Kevin had spoken yesterday. She wore cargo pants, but today she coupled it with a tight-fitting tank top, one she usually wore under her T-shirts. The V-neck wasn’t deep, though she still felt like it was too revealing. It was also too short and too tight to cover her ostrich-sized backside and that made her feel even more self-conscious.

  She just needed to get used to it. Kevin was right: she should feel comfortable in her own skin. And after he’d seen her in nothing but her underwear this morning, any other attire was far less embarrassing. Now she understood what he’d meant in Vegas. There was no way she was ready to have a one-night stand. Being naked in front of a person was…tough, especially when said person had the most penetrating gaze known to mankind.

  She made a mental note to always change in the bathroom, even when she was alone, because she did not want to be under that type of scrutiny again. He just…stared at her, as if studying every flaw of her body. She knew she was oddly shaped and him gawking like that made her feel completely exposed.

  When she first noticed him standing there, she’d thought she would drown in humiliation. But the longer he stared—which was a really long time—the more intense his blue eyes became. Watching him watch her had caused her to heat up, like a tiny volcano erupting in the pit of her stomach, the warmth of it extending right down to her thighs. She hadn’t just felt exposed, she’d felt somewhat…exhilarated. Yes, Kevin Shepard was doing strange things to her, inside and out.

  She had just packed the hairdryer away when he came out of the bathroom. He was looking way too sexy for a hike and she tried to not get too distracted by his damp, disheveled hair and snug-fitting, grey T-shirt.

  “Well, it’s about time,” she complained. “You probably used up a small dam. This has to be a new record. Forty-five minutes? No one takes that long in the shower. What the hell do you do in there?”

  A wide grin split his face, one that looked almost…naughty, and it matched the playfulness in his eyes. “Guy stuff.”

  “Oh, you’re one of those metrosexuals, huh?”

  He laughed and, for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what was so funny. “Yeah, that’s it.” His eyes scanned her up and down again, focusing on her tight tank top. “That’s new.”

  He wasn’t looking at her face, so it felt like he was talking to her cleavage.

  “Oh…yeah,” she said, actively trying to hide her nervousness. “I-I thought I’d take your advice…and…and give the big T-shirts a break. Is it…is it a bit…better?”

  “Not better. Same gift, different package.”

  For a minute, neither of them said anything. It was another staring contest, his eyes flicking between her mouth and her breasts. The fact that she was wearing clothes now was irrelevant, because he seemed to be seeing right through them. It wasn’t necessarily awkward, but definitely tense. The way he looked at her made her want things she didn’t know a body could want. It was a craving, the way a body craves food or water, she was craving to have him on top of her again, almost desperate to feel his lips on hers. Was that normal?

  After their make-out session yesterday, her breasts just responded to him without any stimulation and heat pooled between her legs. Her nipples did that funny thing again and she resisted the urge to cover them up. That would make it so obvious. He must have still noticed it, though, because that naughty grin was on his face when his wandering eyes finally lifted to meet hers.

  “We need to get the fuck out of this room, Jasmin.”

  She only nodded because she didn’t trust her voice at that moment. She tugged on a thick, zip-up hoodie and walked out first.

  They had breakfast with Lance and the other four people going up with them today. Jasmin was grateful for the presence of other people. The tension between them seemed to simmer. He still glanced at her from across the table every now and then, but she found that if she pretended to listen to stories about Barry and Sheryl’s romantic second honeymoon in Arizona, it was much easier to ignore the butterflies in her stomach.

  Her phone rang and her good mood instantly dissipated. Flashing on the screen was her father’s number and she wasn’t sure if she should answer. Maybe he’d received the credit card bills. She hadn’t been modest with her spending and, frankly, she didn’t care how much trouble she would get into. She excused herself from the table and found a quiet spot outside before she answered.

  “Howzit, Dad,” she answered apprehensively.

  “Hi, Bhajia.”

  She half smiled at the nickname. It was interchangeable with chili bite because he always said she was just like the Indian treat—small with just enough spice to make her feisty. His jolly tone indicated that he hadn’t seen the statements, so why was he calling?

  “How are you?” he asked.

  “Fine.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Sightseeing.” At least that wasn’t a lie. Her clipped responses hadn’t gone unnoticed, because she heard him sigh on the other end.

  “I’m sorry I can’t be there with you.”

  Obviously not sorry enough, otherwise he would have gone to Montana when he promised. “You’re busy. I understand.”

  “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

  Oh, more promises. She was too delighted to answer.

  “Jasmintha, I know that since we moved here we haven’t spent much time together.” Try none at all. “And that’s my fault. This new hotel is a thorn in my side, but as soon as it’s up and running, things will change.”

  Until the next project comes along, she wanted to say, but she held her tongue and listened to more excuses and promises. It was difficult to determine
which one she despised more. And it didn’t matter if things changed after this. He’d missed chunks of her childhood and that had worsened over the last three years. She simply didn’t need him anymore.

  The other guests slowly began filing out and headed towards the bus. “Listen, Dad. I gotta go. I’m meeting some friends just now and I still need to do a few things before I go.”

  “I’m so glad you’re making friends, Bhajia. Well, you have fun and…I love you. I love you very much.”

  Those words were like nails on a chalkboard, painful for the brain to hear. She didn’t say it back and hung up. She needed to pull herself together. That call put her on edge. She appreciated the fact that he was trying to build a bridge over the gap between them, but she wanted him to acknowledge that he was the reason there was a gap in the first place. He brushed off broken promises like they meant nothing and then he ends the conversation with I love you. He hadn’t called in almost two weeks. Contrary to what he’d said, he didn’t care at all. His actions spoke far louder than his words.

  She needed a minute or two to regain some composure. Her throat was so tight it was hard to swallow and she wanted to get rid of that ugly feeling. She wouldn’t cry. She refused to cry.

  She turned around and slammed straight into Kevin’s chest.

  He grabbed her elbow to steady her. “You okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah…it was…” She forced a smile. “It was just my dad checking in.”

  She didn’t know how he managed to see her hurt beneath the smile, but he reached out and gently stroked his thumb over her cheek. He didn’t say one word, just left her with that small gesture to let her know he acknowledged her pain and carried on walking to the bus.

  The eight-mile hike wasn’t easy and her focus on every step managed to clear her head a bit. Unfortunately with her dad’s words playing on her mind, somehow that feeling of loneliness turned into a mood. She wanted to write their relationship off as unsalvageable, but when he said things like I love you, it sucked her right back in. It made her miss him, miss what they used to be. It was obvious that he didn’t care anymore, and she wanted to not care too. Damn him!

  She took in a deep breath as they reached Lipan Point. Stones crunched beneath her hiking boots and the smell of wet earth filled her nostrils. A cool breeze flitted through her hair and she took a minute to just appreciate everything around her. Sheryl and Barry were wrapped in each other’s arms, looking more like two teenagers in love rather than an old married couple. Lance was spewing out information about the history of the canyon and the wildlife in this region. She wasn’t interested in any of that. Instead, she walked towards the railing overlooking the most captivating view she had ever seen in her young life.

  Her breath actually caught as she took it all in. Redwall limestone on either side of her. In the distance she could see the Colorado River weaving its way through the rocks. Every deep crevice and fractured line was a reminder that something unbelievably profound had happened many years ago, so majestic in its greatness it made all her problems seem microscopic.

  On the far right side, she saw Kevin standing all alone, leaning with his elbows against the railing as he stared out at the expanse in front of them. His body language told her that his lighthearted mood from this morning had also disappeared. The somber look on his face made her wonder what had happened from then to now to make him so sad.

  She slowly walked across the damp sand towards him, but she loitered behind him, not really sure what to say.

  “That’s a whole lot of stupid, Perry,” he whispered, completely lost in his own thoughts.

  That name was familiar. She remembered him telling his brother, Max, that he was going to Florida because there was something he needed to do for Perry. She waited a few more seconds before she closed the gap and went to stand beside him. He didn’t even turn to look at her and continued to stare out at the open earth in front of them.

  His sleeves were rolled up and there was a long scar down his forearm, one she hadn’t noticed before. She reached out to slowly trace her fingers over it. Either he didn’t mind, or he was too trapped in his sullen mood to care, because he didn’t react at all.

  It took another minute before she mustered up the courage to ask the question. “Who’s Perry?”

  His jaw clenched and he was quiet for so long, she thought he might actually consider opening up to her. He didn’t. “Off limits, Jasmin.”

  His voice cracked, sounding raw and unsteady, like he was on the verge of tears. He was grinding his teeth so hard she could hear it. She didn’t know who Perry was, but she could conclude that there was a painful past between him and Kevin. Maybe they’d had a fallout and that’s why Kevin said that he didn’t have any friends. She hoped that they could somehow find a way to resolve their differences, because this friendship obviously meant a lot to him. It had to if he was willing to trek all the way across the States just to do something for Perry.

  “Are you okay?” she asked softly, still stroking the scar on his forearm.

  “No.”

  He placed his hand over hers and she fully expected him to push it off like he usually did, but he surprised her by pulling it up to his other hand. Interlinking his fingers with hers, he sandwiched her hand between both his palms.

  She looked over at him, but he still stared blankly at the canyon. “Do you wanna talk?”

  “No.”

  He still wasn’t ready to open up, but she was glad he wasn’t pushing her away. Selfish though it was, she didn’t think she could handle rejection today. She didn’t want to be alone, she didn’t want to feel alone.

  “Do you want me to talk?” she asked.

  Sad blue eyes focused on her then, and she didn’t know if he wanted her to talk, or if he knew she needed to, but he nodded. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

  There was nothing in particular that she wanted to say; she just preferred to talk when she was hurt. Somehow rambling on the outside always stopped the ramblings on the inside. When she was younger, her dad always used to read her bedtime stories and once she got bored of the traditional fairy tales, he started making up his own. At that moment, those memories were swirling around in her mind, and she decided to do the same thing just to hold onto them.

  “Once upon a time,” she began with a shaky voice, “in a faraway land, there lived a princess, Princess Jazzabel. The king was away at war, fighting a great battle, and the Princess missed him terribly. One day she decided to have a party to lift her spirits, the biggest party to ever grace the land, and she invited all her friends from all the other kingdoms. She had lots of friends.”

  Kevin kept facing forward, but his thumb gently caressed hers, another little acknowledgement of her pain.

  “Unfortunately, there was a dreadful storm. Rain flooded the kingdom and the party had to be postponed. She rescheduled it for the next weekend, but the storm continued and no one was prepared to travel in that weather. After weeks of incessant rain, Princess Jazzabel gave up. The party was never going to happen. She closed all the curtains in the palace, so she wouldn’t have to constantly be reminded of the great party she was never going to experience. The king was still away and there was no one there to reassure her that it would all be okay. The downpour was ceaseless and she became more and more depressed as the days went on. One day a lonely boy came to the castle. His name was…Kanye. He was lost and looking for shelter. Princess Jazzabel wanted to turn him away, because even though he was super-hot, he was a fucking grouch.”

  The dimple she could see curved in on his cheek, but he still said nothing and she continued with her story.

  “But she couldn’t turn him away. Their circumstances were different, but they both had a storm to face. She let him in and, as the days went on, both of them became so depressed by the weather. They were so caught up in their own gloomy worlds that they didn’t notice when the rain actually stopped. Many months later, they decided to finally open the curtains and the sun shone bright and the
rolling green hills were proof that the storm hadn’t been all bad. She finally got her wish and had her great party. Everyone, including Kanye, thought it was the best party ever. P.S. Kanye still isn’t a real rapper. Disclaimer: All characters in this story are fictional. Any resemblance to real life is purely coincidental.”

  His eyes met hers. There was a sad smile on his face, but still a smile. “What’s the moral of that story?”

  “Storms don’t last forever. It might feel like you’re stuck in it, but sometimes you just need to draw back the curtains to see if it has finally passed.”

  He faced forward again, squeezing his hands tightly over hers. Nothing was said after that. They stood there and stared out at the rocky terrain. Mother Nature in all her glory did indeed make her problems feel small, but there was nothing wrong with experiencing the small things in the same magnitude as the big things.

  Something big: seeing the magnificence of the canyon stretching on endlessly into the horizon.

  Something small: having her hand in Kevin’s as they comforted each other in the silence.

  She appreciated both in the same way.

  November, 18

  Holbrook, Arizona

  Kevin stopped outside the motel room door and groaned. He needed to brace himself before he went inside. They’d spent three days in a luxurious South Star resort and spending the night here was going to take some getting used to.

  The hike from yesterday, the short tour they did today, and the three hour drive to Holbrook, had left him exhausted. Jasmin was still at reception, chatting merrily to the middle-aged man about all the places they could visit while they were here. Kevin couldn’t care less; all he wanted was a bed.

  He opened the door and his first instinct was to run in the other direction. This was the motel room horror films were made of. Paint was peeling off at the edges of the wall. And on the topic of paint, the eerie light green very closely resembled the color that coated the inside of an asylum. People probably went crazy here too. It smelled musty and dusty…and rusty. Everything looked like it should have been replaced thirty years ago. The website said this was three stars. Maybe the standards were different here.