by Nikki Lane
“At least let me drive you,” Jacob said.
My stomach sank to my knees. “No.” Maybe that came out a little too forcefully.
“Why?”
“Because you have to study. Finals are in a couple weeks.” I walked out of the door before he had a chance to argue.
He sensed something was up—he was trusting, not an idiot. Deep down, I knew that he would always respect my privacy. It was an old habit of his. But the look on his face before I walked out the door tore a small whole in my heart. I couldn’t get it out of my head the whole car ride to work.
I parked the car and trotted into the club, still feeling like I’d been run over. I headed straight for the dressing room, grateful it was a Monday. Monday’s were usually slow. I wasn’t really in the mood to wrap myself around a hard metal pole. A few of the girls gave me funny looks as I shed my jacket and my clothes to change.
Sarah came up from behind me and plopped her bag on the vanity. “How the fuck do I end up here on Monday nights?”
She rummaged through her bag, not bothering to look at me while she talked about her shitty roommate and how messy she always left their dorm.
I continued to listen as she switched gears and rambled on about her hot economics professor as I started on my makeup. Finally, she looked at herself in the mirror and caught my reflection.
She froze, her finger hovering just above her eyebrow. “What the hell happened to you?”
I shook my head gently. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”
She turned around to face me and leaned her body against the vanity. “You are definitely not fine. It looks like you fell down a flight of steps.”
There was an excuse I could use. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
I liked Sarah, and I felt we had this unspoken rule about being completely non-judgmental with each other. But I didn’t want to start airing my personal business here. Especially since I noticed everyone perk their ears to listen in. These girls fed off each other’s drama—who was sleeping with who, who’d been earning extra money giving blow jobs in the parking lot, who was too coked up to show up for their shift. They weren’t all like that…but it was hard to tell them apart. After a while, we all start looking the same.
I grabbed the foundation and tried to cover up the bruising on my arms. I winced when I reached a little too far.
“Here,” she said with a sympathetic tone. “Let me help you.”
I resigned to her assistance and handed her the bottle.
In the brightly lit mirror, I could see Sal storm through the dressing room. A few girls snatched up their clothes to cover themselves up since he didn’t knock. He never did.
He shouted something to the bartender, and she went scurrying out to the floor. I lowered my eyes and shook my head at the way he talked. I caught his attention, and he focused his glare on me.
The downside of working slow Monday nights—Sal was usually in a bad mood.
“You.” He pointed one of his hairy arms and stomped toward me. When he was mad, he always talked like he had a meatball sub stuck in this throat. “You’re twenty minutes late. And what the fuck happened to you?” He waved over my body.
“I’m fine,” I said. “I—”
“I can’t have you going out on the floor looking like your boyfriend lost his temper.”
I pinched a piece of my thigh to dull the tear in my chest.
“Get your shit and go the fuck home.”
I jolted around to face him, causing Sarah to step back.
“What for? I told you I was fine.” I couldn’t go home empty-handed. Rent was due and my fridge was empty. Jacob’s paycheck helped, but it couldn’t compare to what I made here. “You can’t send me home.”
“For fuck’s sake, Sal. She got into a car accident.” Sarah continued to dabble foundation onto my bruises. “When I’m done, you won’t be able to see anything.”
He stared me down, but I kept my eyes on one of the bulbs surrounding the mirror. It outshone all the faces staring at me.
“Fine,” he grumbled with a condescending wave. “Just make sure that shit stays on. And come to work on time.” He stomped out of the room and slammed the door behind him.
“Thanks,” I muttered to Sarah.
“No problem,” she said with a small smile.
The others girls went back to their own conversations.
“Look,” Sarah said. “I know it’s none of my business, but…if you ever need anything—”
“Thanks but I’m okay, really. It’s not what you think.”
“Just tell me it wasn’t Jacob.”
I scrunched my face. “No,” I cried. “Are you kidding?” If weren’t for him, I’d have probably ended up on the six o’clock news.
She dabbed a little more makeup while I picked at the cuticles around my nails. “I didn’t think so. Not when he looks at you the way he does.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, looking up at her in the mirror.
“Can’t you see it?” She leaned her free hand on the vanity and looked at me through the mirror. “He’s, like, totally enamored with you.”
I focused my eyes back on my hands. “Get out of here…”
She tossed the bottle of foundation back in my makeup bag. “I’m serious, Maeve. I could sense it the first time I saw you two at the bookstore. I see the way you two walk around campus…he holds your books for you. It’s makes me sick, quite frankly.” She shot me a smile before she tried a shade of my lipstick.
“You could sense it?”
“Sure.” She turned around to face me and leaned her butt against the counter. “I have this sixth sense when it comes to love. I’m like a relationship psychic.”
I chewed my bottom lip. “When’s the last time you were in a relationship?”
She scrunched her face. “Like a serious one?”
“Like any kind of one.”
“It’s been a while. Maybe a year.”
“Was it a long one?”
“Almost six months. Why?”
“Just wondering.”
Six months? Shit. Sarah and I shared the same philosophy on sex so I never thought she’d been in an actual relationship. Where did that leave me? I didn’t think my perpetual singlehood was all that abnormal, but that thought was slowly crumbling.
“How about you?” she asked.
“Only one. But it was in high school, so I’m not even sure it counts.”
“Relationships aren’t for everyone,” she said, slipping on her thigh-highs. “I found that out the hard way.”
“Jacob was with the same girl for years.”
“Doesn’t surprise me. I sensed that from him, too.” She stripped off her shirt and grimaced. “Does he know you work here?”
I shook my head. “Absolutely not.”
“He’s going to find out.”
“No,” I said. “He’s not.”
“That’s ridiculous. You should tell him.”
I scoffed. “You’re crazy.”
“He might take it better than you think.”
“Do you go out of your way to tell people you work here?” I leaned my weight against the back of the seat and crossed my arms.
“No,” she said. “And it’s no one’s business. But this is different.” She stood next to me topless as she reached for her clothes out of her bag. She raised her eyebrows like there was nothing left for me to do besides concede her point.
I got up from my chair to finish getting ready. “Why should I say anything? I’m sure, any day now, it’s not going to matter.”
“Why wouldn’t it matter?”
“Because…” I didn’t want to explain this. Didn’t know how. But there was no way I was telling him the truth. No. Fucking. Way.
Sal came busting through the door again, shouting at those of us who still weren’t ready. I slipped on my shoes, feeling kind of relieved to go out on the floor.
Chapter Fifteen
It took a couple weeks, but
the bruises finally disappeared. I had a few great nights at work, which gave me a little extra cash after all the bills were paid. The tenderness in my muscles had disappeared, and I had felt good enough to catch a few more dance classes in between studying for finals.
I scurried back to campus and found Jacob in the library, assuming his normal position. Head ducked low into a book. Hand behind head with the lamp illuminating the immediate space around him. Even with the usual grimace on his face he got when studying too hard, it was near impossible not to admire him. He’d been consumed with work the last few weeks, even more so than usual. The door clicked closed behind me, and Jacob looked up from his book and smiled at me. A warm buzz zinged through my body as I approached the table to sit down.
“Hey, beautiful,” he whispered.
“Hey.”
I peeled off my coat and sat in the chair opposite him, fighting the cheesy smile trying to make an appearance on my face. It was the first sign of flirting since our one and only night together. I would have liked to think it was my extremely durable will power that kept Jacob and me from having sex again. But it wasn’t. Not even close. Jacob had been treating me like a china doll ever since the incident with Doug on Thanksgiving. I couldn’t say that I would have turned him down if he’d made an attempt. But I was hoping that he would save me the job of telling him nothing more could happen between us.
I reached into my backpack and pulled out my books and notebooks. I promptly skimmed through my notes, trying with all my might to stay focused on the words. I read the same sentence over and over, feeling something brush up against my leg. My eyes peered over to Jacob who was still reading. I let my eyes fall back on the pages when I felt another brush against my leg. I peered back up at Jacob who was now wearing a halfcocked smile.
“Are you playing footsy with me?” I whispered.
His eyes met mine, the light of the lamp reflecting in his glasses. “Maybe.”
“Well, stop,” I said, once again trying not to smile. “I need to concentrate.”
He continued to smirk but dropped his gaze back down to his book. I managed to read a few pages of notes before I felt the familiar brush of his foot against my leg again.
“Jacob,” I said, a little too loud.
I gave him a swift kick, and he let out a quiet howl of pain. A few people, studying around us, looked up. I think we even got shushed.
I mouthed the word Stop. He smiled wide, making the darkened room of the library seem just a little bit brighter. I continued to read when I heard something slide across the table. It was Jacob’s opened notebook, a message scrawled out in messy print.
Spandex is a good look for you.
I smiled behind the back of my hand and responded.
Not many people can pull this kind of look off.
I slid the notebook back his way. Even though my focus was back down at my book, I could see him scrawl another message in my peripheral vision.
Bet I could.
I smiled harder and wrote one more response. There was no fucking way I was going to get any studying done if we kept this up.
Don’t even think of trying on my leotards when I’m not home.
I slid the notebook back to him without looking up and heard his faint chuckle after he read the message. He slid the notebook back.
You look sexy. Ever done it in a library?
My eyes flared opened. Was he serious? I’d done it in a few different places—the car, the bathroom of someone’s house at a party, the basement laundry room of my apartment complex. But never the library. If I had known that was a thing, I would have visited it more often.
I shook my head to clear my train of thought. How did Jacob know how to throw me off my game so easily?
I wrote a message and slid the notebook back.
Stop. Some of us need to study!
I heard the notebook slide over one more time, but I refused to acknowledge it. Jacob cleared his throat, but I ignored him, all the while rereading the same fucking sentence over and over. Picturing Jacob and me going at it in some dark corner of the library was so much more interesting.
Jacob gave the throat clearing technique one more try. When I still wasn’t cooperating, he dealt a firm nudge with his foot under the table. My head shot up to give him a dissatisfied look. He gestured toward the notebook with his pen.
Go out on a date with me?
I double blinked. And then I blinked a few more times. A date? With me? With Jacob? Huh?
I thwacked my pen against my book, gaining a few more annoyed stares from our neighbors. I looked to Jacob and shook my head. He frowned and retrieved the notebook, only to write a new message and pass it back to me.
Why not?
I grabbed the notebook and wrote a response, feeling a little like I was back in eighth grade.
Because I don’t date.
I passed the notebook back to him, assuming it would be the end of discussion. But it wasn’t. Jacob wrote another message and slid the notebook back my way.
Please? One date. Let me pop your dating cherry.
My eyes widened, and a rush a blood flooded my cheeks. I scooted back my chair, the sound of wood grinding on wood echoing through the cavernous space. I grabbed my books and haphazardly shoved them back into my bag and tried to make a dash for the door. I didn’t look back, but I heard the sound of Jacob get up from his chair, too.
“Maeve,” he called out to me.
I wound through the aisles of books, trying to find the stairs to get back to the first level. I didn’t want to waste time waiting for the elevator. But I didn’t spend much time in this library, and it was like a fucking labyrinth. The more I walked through, the more I realized I didn’t have a clue where I was going. A sign could have been helpful.
“Maeve, wait,” Jacob called, ignoring all laws of the library as he tried to catch up with me.
I felt him tug on my arm as he pulled me between two secluded aisles. He steadied my body in his arms as my back pressed up against the hard spines of books.
I tried to take a few steadying breaths, refusing to look at him.
“Maeve, what’s the matter? What did I say wrong?”
When I finally met his face, his eyes were narrowed and his brow furrowed.
“Nothing, Jacob. Just please, let me go.”
“No,” he said, holding my hands steady. “Not until you tell me why you won’t go out with me.”
“I told you. I—”
“Yeah, I know. You don’t date. But that’s not a good enough answer for me.”
I tore my eyes away from him and focused on the dingy blue carpeting.
“Look at me, Maeve.” He used his hand to gently turn my face. “Why won’t you look at me?”
A burn slivered through my gut. How could I make him understand? The fingers of his other hand entwined with mine. My body had no choice but to react to his touch.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured. “I don’t have any other answer for you.”
I’d hoped that Jacob would make it easy for me to walk away. I should have known better than to underestimate the influence he had on me. It worked its magic even when we were kids.
“One date, Maeve. That’s all I’m asking. Not marriage. Not even for a second date.”
His hazel eyes focused on me, making me squirm, as I stood trapped between a wall of books and Jacob’s body. The intoxicating aroma of Jacob’s cologne overshadowed the smell of the worn leather and paper.
One date. What could it hurt? As long as his expectations were low, I think I could handle it.
“Okay,” I whispered. “One date.”
How could I have made myself anymore clear? I wasn’t the dating kind. But I guessed he was going to have to learn that the hard way. I’d take a chance and call his bluff. I just hoped he wouldn’t be too disappointed when it turned out that I was right all along.
Jacob smiled. “Great.” He readjusted his glasses with his free hand and kept a steady gaze on me.
“Yes?” I could feel the warmth of his breath hit my skin.
“What are you doing?” My chest heaved, and I struggled with my shallow breathing.
He pressed his frame closer to me, melting his body against mine.
“What does it look like I’m doing?”
The scruff of his light beard brushed against my skin as he kissed my cheek. He pulled back. “I’m kissing you.” And then kissed the other cheek.
I closed my eyes, feeling the goosebumps flutter across my skin as his lips made their way down my jawline.
“We can’t do this,” I forced myself to say.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “Nobody uses this part of the library.”
It wasn’t what I meant, but it didn’t matter. He set his lips on mine, and it was all it took to shut me up. One hand rested on my hip while the other trailed up my torso to my chest. I parted my lips and let Jacob’s tongue work his way inside my mouth. He exhaled hard into me and gently ran his hand over my breasts. My body ached against his touch. I became so engulfed in the feeling of the kiss and the taste of his mouth that I’d almost forgotten we were in a public place.
“Is this what you do when you come to the library?” I asked. “No wonder you’re here all the time.”
Jacob’s hand continued up. “I’m here all the time because you’re too much of a distraction. It’s too hard to concentrate on studying when I’m around you.” His fingers grazed my collarbone, and he tugged down the tight sleeve of my leotard.
“It’s not my fault you’re so easily distracted.”
My mouth parted as his lips worked their way back down my neck and along my exposed shoulder.
“Can you blame me?” he said in between pecks.
My eyes flickered around the area, waiting for someone to come upon us. It sent a rush of adrenaline through my veins, exciting my heart.
“Can I take you home?” he whispered into my ear.
He pulled his head back to assess my reaction. His eyes were deep pools of honey, boding no intention of stopping once we got back to the apartment.
I nodded and let him lead me back to our table. Jacob wasted no time in collecting his things into his backpack. He slipped on his coat, and I did the same, realizing I’d forgotten it during my first escape attempt. That would’ve been a shitty walk home. He reached for my hand, and we walked back to the apartment together. Or rather Jacob pulled me home. As soon as we made it inside, we both dropped our bags, and Jacob’s lips met mine again. He held each side of my face with his hands, one of his thumbs caressing my cheek. We stood in the living room with our lips pressed together, eyes closed.