UnLucky in Love_Final
Page 14
Touch me!
“Jack, maybe we can…” I lean forward, closing the distance, my lips parting, begging for his touch.
Jack lowers his head, and our eyes connect for the briefest of moments. “And these,” his eyes fall to my breasts, “are the most amazing pair of breasts I’ve seen.”
Okay, that’s not what I was expecting, but he does love my boobs.
Jack glances up for only a second. “And I’ve seen a lot.” He smirks. “Clover—” Jack breaths my name.
“Jack—” I moan.
If this isn’t begging, I don’t know what is.
His lips gently rub mine as his hands fall—to my…breasts?
Um—okay?
“I’ve been dying to touch you all night,” he whispers the words I’ve desperately wanted to hear. “Clover, let me kiss you.”
Yes! Yes! Yes!
“Please.” I close my eyes, my lips parting.
Except his lips never touch mine. Nope! Apparently, I’m not kissable—but my breasts are!
Dr. Jack Hunt face plants my cleavage, his hands pushing my boobs together as he shakes his head back and forth, his lips vibrating like a motorboat.
Holy hell! He’s motorboating the twins!
“Brbrbrrbrbrrbrbrr.”
“Jaaack!” I scream, but he keeps going.
Is that tongue? Ew! It’s slobber.
“Jack, enough!” I yell louder. Taking a step back, I push him forward.
“What?” Jack seems shocked as he wipes his mouth off with the back of his sleeve, a Cheshire grin replacing his slobber-soaked lips.
“You slobbered on my—on my—” I try to get the words out, but shock takes over. If I don’t say it, does that mean it never happened?
“No, Clover.” Jack takes a step forward.
“Don’t touch me.” I hold out my hand.
“You said I could kiss you!” Jack’s face scrunches up. He really thought this was okay.
“On my lips!”
“Why would I want to kiss those,” he nods to my lips, “when I can kiss those.” He zooms in on my boobs like one of those old cartoons where Daffy Duck’s eyes would bug out?
Unbelievable!
I gasp, grab my purse, and run off.
“Clover! I didn’t mean it like that,” he calls after me. “I mean, I did, but I’ll kiss your lips as well…both of them!”
Gah!
“Goodbye, Jack!” I rush out the doors and into the car where Thomas is waiting on me.
Sliding onto the seat, Thomas shuts the door and rounds the vehicle as my phone chimes with a text from Austin.
I refuse to look at anything from earlier. I don’t need to once I see his latest message.
Austin: Hunt is a cunt!
Jack Hunt @dOc_knOckers
This Doc is in heaven.
Ugh! How did I not see it? He was always gawking at my boobs. In the vehicle, at the restaurant, snapping the lingerie picture, and this. Plus, let’s not forget the whole date in general—Hooters and Victoria’s Secret on a first date?
Here’s your sign.
“Where to, Ms. Kelley?” Thomas is a welcome interruption to my pity party of one. “Mr. Montgomery’s?”
“Yes, please. I’m ready to go home.”
CHAPTER 16
AUSTIN
I begged Owen to let me put an end to the date, but according to him and that stupid fucking contract, if Clover is having a good time, I can’t do shit.
Instead, I’m sitting at home while Kramer pretends to shit on my head, scrolling through the Twitter feed.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
“Buddy, how about we give Uncle Austin a break?” I pat the top of my head, hoping he’ll fly back to his cage. “Hmm? Are you hungry?”
That got his attention. Kramer climbs down to my shoulder, and squawks, “Polly! Polly want a cracker. Polly! Polly want a cracker.”
“Interesting. What else can you say?” I turn my head slightly, but not enough for Kramer to peck my eye out.
“Polly want a cracker. Polly! Polly want a cracker.”
“Okay, bud, I can take a hint. Let’s see what we have in here.” I stand, and Kramer jumps to the couch and flaps his way over to his cage while I head to the kitchen.
“Austin?” Clover yells out, slamming the door. “You here?”
“Hey. I’m surprised to see you home. I figured you and Hunt the Cunt would be checking into the W right about now.”
“Yeah, well, that didn’t happen.” Clover throws herself down on the couch and covers her face.
“Well, I can’t say I’m sorry about that.” I chuckle. “That dude is a class A douchebag for those tweets about you.”
Clover grunts.
“Okay.” I tap her legs. “Lift up.”
One by one, Clover’s legs raise enough for me to slide in and sit down. “Give them here.” I lay them back down on my lap.”
She grunts.
“I know that grunt.”
She sighs.
“And that sigh.”
“What do you want me to say?” Clover peeks over the pillow, her hair wild and eyes rimmed red. “That you were right? That I was delusional for even thinking I could find someone who didn’t want just sex out of this whole crazy mess?”
Shit!
“Clover…” Her name slowly falls from my mouth.
“Don’t, Austin.” She sits up, hugging the pillow tight to her chest. “Don’t sit there and feel sorry for poor, pitiful Clover.”
“I don’t feel sorry because you’re pitiful.” I try to pull the pillow away from her, but she just scoots closer to the arm, bringing up her legs.
“See, you think I am.” She snorts.
“Okay, that was kind of gross.” I laugh.
“Sorry.” She chuckles as she rubs her eyes with the palm of her hand.
“As I was saying…” I scoot over a cushion, reach over, and pull her into my arms. “I’m sorry that asshole didn’t see what I see.”
I shouldn’t have said it. I’m not sure what that even means. I opened my mouth to tell her I was more pissed than sorry. Pissed she made herself vulnerable to a man who obviously didn’t appreciate her from the moment he set eyes on her.
Clover looks up at me through tear-soaked lashes and asks me exactly what I was afraid of. “What do you see?”
Here is where we fuck up as men. We say stuff we aren’t sure about, then when asked about it, we have to somehow put the puzzle together before the buzzer goes off.
“A beautiful woman.” I smile, brushing back the blond strands plastered to her face. “A woman who knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to go after it. Even if it means risking her own happiness to get there.”
“I did that with Jeffery,” she confesses.
“You did.” I nod. “Just know you can have exactly what you want and be happy.”
“How?” She hangs on my every word as if I’m solving world peace.
“By putting you,” I tap her nose, “first.”
“Hm?” Clover sits there for a minute, her eyes moving back and forth. Hopefully, she’s taking what I just said to heart. “I hope the other guys aren’t like this.”
Well, that came out of left field. I figured she was going to pop up and give some sort of girl power speech, but instead, she’s thinking about her future dates.
“You still want to do this?” I’m confused. After Jeffery and the doctor, I figured Clover would be ready to pull the plug on this.
“Well, I have no choice. I signed a contract. Plus, I made a promise to myself to put myself out there more.”
“Fine.” I stand up and set her back down. “I think I have the perfect thing to put tonight behind you.” I jog to the kitchen and grab Clover’s favorites.
“Unless it’s ice cream or wine, don’t bother. It’s that kind of night,” she hollers out.
“Already on it.” I walk out of the kitchen with a half carton of vanilla, a
bottle of Cabernet, and two glasses. “Pick your damage.”
“Oh!” Clover bites her bottom lip, trying to make a decision. “Fuck it!” Clover curses.
I belt out a laugh. “That bad, huh?”
“Gimme.” She holds out her grabby hands. “I need them.”
“Okay.” I hand her the already open bottle and half-eaten carton of ice cream. “Crap.” I race back to the kitchen, grab a spoon, run back, and come to a screeching halt. “Damn, Clo.” Sitting on the couch is Clover, drinking from the bottle, chugging away.
“What?” she wipes off her mouth. “If you only knew.”
Jumping over the couch, I take my seat beside her. “Well, this isn’t going to solve your issues.” I reach for the bottle.
“Fine, I’ll take it easy…” Clover looks between the carton of ice cream and the wine bottle.
“Don’t even think about it.”
“Don’t even try to stop me, Montgomery.” She snags the bottle like she’s Stretch Armstrong or something and pours the rest of the wine into the half-empty carton. “If you only knew what happened.”
I sit there staring at my friend, her hand out, waiting for me to give her the spoon. If I hold it hostage, she will just get her own. Either way, this night is going to end with drunk Clover and wake up with her having one hell of a hangover.
Spoon it is.
“Wine and dairy?” I hand the utensil over, and she digs in, moaning. “This better not be a repeat of your twenty-first birthday.”
She shovels a huge bite into her mouth and tries to talk. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” Another bite, wine dribbling down her chin.
I swipe the juices with my thumb and take a taste. “Hmm…not bad.”
“I told you.” She points at me with the spoon before she shovels in another load. This girl is throwing this down.
“Is there any chance of you sharing?” I reach for the carton.
“Nope!” She holds the carton close. “Did I tell you what he did?” She takes one more bite but doesn’t give me time to answer. “Get this.” She sets the carton on the coffee table. “Touch and you die.”
“Okay.” I hold my hands up. “All yours.”
“He kissed me!” She gasps.
“How dare he!” I joke, even though I’m pissed as fuck he even laid a hand on her after the tweets he posted. I could only imagine what happened on that date.
“No! He didn’t kiss me here.” She jabs herself in the mouth. “Ouch!”
“Uh-uh! No!” I stand back up and begin to pace the floor. “I don’t need to know where he kissed you if it wasn’t here.” I signal to her lips.
“I wish,” she mumbles as she stands and wobbles, but not before she pulls us both back down on the couch.
“You’re drunk.” I lean back and examine my friend.
“Not drunk, but the wine is catching up with me.” She begins to ramble on about how she’s fine, then looks at me. “What were we talking about?”
“About this kiss.”
“Ohhhh! Yes, he didn’t kiss me.”
“Thank God!” I accidentally blurt.
“Jeez, Austin. Even you think I’m not kissable.” Clover reaches for the carton again.
“Stop putting words in my mouth.” I take the carton and turn her around to face me.
“Well, apparently it’s true. These lips aren’t kissable.” Clover hangs her head. “Jeffery thought so, and now Jack.”
“What in the hell are you talking about?”
How are we going from kissing to not kissing, to Jack, to Jeffery, and now back to Jack?
Women are fucking confusing.
“He leaned in and whispered all these amazing things…” Clover trails off.
“What happened?” I reach down, not realizing what I’m doing, and dig into the wine float. If I’m going to subject myself to girl talk, I might as well do it right.
“Well…” Clover reaches down, places a hand on each side of her perfect round tits, and pushes them together to where they are basically spilling out of the top of her dress.
Wrong damn question!
“Instead of kissing these.” She puckers up.
I smile and take another bite.
“He motorboated these.” Clover fucking squeezes her tits.
“What the fuck?” Ice cream goes all over the table and onto the rug, staining it, I’m sure.
“Austin! You better not have gotten any on my dress.”
“Fuck your dress. I want to know why in the hell he motorboated those things and why you let him.”
“I didn’t let him motorboat me, Austin.” She drawls out my name like I’m the idiot. “Why would I? It’s so disgusting.”
“I don’t know, Clover.” I give it back to her. “Maybe because you took a half-naked photo and posted it on Twitter. I mean, come on.”
“Screw you!” Clover’s bottom lip begins to quiver and her eyes well with tears. She’s either about to break down or go off. Either way, it’s my fault. “I didn’t say, ‘Hey, Jack, since you think my boobs are so perfect, why don’t you face-plant into them.’”
“I didn’t mean—”
“Do you know how degrading that is?” Clover interrupts, not letting me get another word in edgewise. “He stuck his face between my boobs and pretended he was on a motorboat cruising down a river, slow and wet.”
“I’m going to—”
“You aren’t going to do anything. It’s over and done with. The fact is, I’m not kissable, and that is something I’m going to have to live with.”
“For crying out loud, now you’re just being dramatic.”
She gasps.
“What?”
“Stop being such a guy.” She glares at me. “And give me that back.” She yanks the carton out of my hand and starts to take another bite. “Great. Now it’s like soup from you sitting there cradling it in your arms. What am I going to do?”
“Well, first things first.” I take the carton and place it in the sink before I head back to the couch and sit back down. “And now you are going to come here.” I lean back and stretch my arm along the back of the cushions, inviting her to settle in.
“Just because I cuddle up doesn’t mean I’m less angry with you.” Clover scoots over and rests her head on my shoulder.
“Good. Now, you are going to tell me why in the world you think you’re not kissable.”
“Well…” Clover reaches up and starts playing with a small hole in my tee. “Jeffery and I never kissed.”
“And you think that’s because of you?”
“Mm-hmm.” Her words vibrate through my chest, straight to my heart. Clover hasn’t ever given herself enough credit. It’s why she created that stupid binder. She didn’t trust in who she was, so she settled for who she imagined herself to be.
“Elaborate.”
“Jeffery hated PDA, and he hated kissing more. So, when we finally did, it seemed more like a chore. He kept saying I used too much tongue, or I sucked too hard.”
I chuckle.
“Stop. I know where your mind is going. Don’t make this one of your dirty dreams.”
“Sorry. Did you think you did?” I ask the question, already knowing the answer. We’ve discussed this topic a time or two on my show.
“No. Actually, I thought his kisses were too wet and sometimes…” Clover trailers off.
“Sometimes what?” I pry.
She gasps.
“What?”
“Austin! Sometimes I made excuses not to kiss him. Oh—my—God! I hated kissing him!”
“And there it is, folks.” I begin to clap. “The truth shall set you free.”
“Did you just Dr. Feelgood me?” Clover looks up with her bright blue eyes no longer filled with sadness, but with hope.
“Maybe.”
“Well, how about you do it again?” She smiles.
“You mean, you want Dr. Feelgood’s advice?” I point to myself. “Me?”
�
�Sort of.” Clover begins to blush. “I want Dr. Feelgood to teach me how to kiss.”
“Y-Y-You wh-what?” I stutter.
“Stop playing coy with me. You know exactly what I said. It’s been way over six years since I’ve kissed anyone. What if I forgot how? What if I really do suck?”
“I’m not kissing you. You’re like my—”
“Don’t say it.” Clover slaps her hand over my mouth. “Don’t make this awkward.”
“You already did,” I mumble.
“No, what would be awkward is me asking Mal or CJ to teach me. That would be weird and slightly inappropriate.”
“Yet hot!” I close my eyes. “I can almost—”
“Stop it!” She sits up, crossing her legs, and faces me. “I’m serious, Austin. You’re a guy, and my best friend, who just so happens to know everything about the female anatomy and loves sex. Hell, you get paid to talk about sex.”
“Well, this is true.” I nod and readjust to face her.
“Right? You are the obvious choice.” Clover is practically bouncing up and down, shaking us both.
“You’re drunk.”
“I’m tipsy—big difference.”
“You’re going to regret this,” I warn.
“I promise you I won’t.”
I promise you I will.
When friends kiss, lines definitely cross and things become—well…complicated. And that is the number one reason why I don’t want to partake in this smooch session.
Clover has been my go-to person since the moment our moving van pulled in next door. I jumped out, and Clover came skipping across the lawn with her cute little braided pigtails and ruffled little pink dress asking if I wanted to help at her lemonade stand. Since I didn’t have any friends and my sister was annoying, I thought why not? Plus, she offered me a fifty percent cut.
“Fine. I’ll do it.”
“You will?” Clover’s lips turn up in a slow grin. “We’re going to make out?”
“W-What?” I choke. “Kiss, Clover. We are going to kiss.”
“Same difference.” She rolls her eyes. “Now look who’s being dramatic.”
“Clover, this is serious. If you are too tipsy to get serious, I suggest you call CJ to help you out.” I begin to get up, but Clover grabs ahold of my sleeve and tugs me back down.
“I’m just nervous,” she finally admits. “You’re like Dr. Feelgood, and I’m just…me.”