“Same,” Rex says, throwing the last of our trash into the can. “Do you want me to pick you up or meet you there?”
“You can meet me there,” I reply.
“Cool. I’ll help load these into your car.”
He carries most of the containers, and we stack them into my back seat before he kisses me on the cheek and says good-bye. I rush upstairs to shower egg yolk and flour off myself and start undressing when my phone beeps with a text.
James: Have dinner with me.
The high I’ve been riding from hanging out with Rex is wiped away, and the thought of having dinner with James makes me gag. I debate on not answering him, but like always, I do.
Me: Busy with a fundraiser tonight.
James: Can I come?
This time, I nearly heave up the few cookies I taste-tested.
Me: No. My parents will be there.
James: That’s rude. Isn’t it time to introduce me to your family?
I want to introduce him to my family like I want McDonald’s to stop serving their fizzy Cokes.
Me: What do you want?
James: For you to stop hanging out with him. To stop fucking him.
Repulsion shakes through me. Him is Rex. I hate when James brings him into our mess.
Me: Stop. We’re just friends.
James: Better be.
I toss my phone onto my bathroom counter with tears pricking my eyes. I can’t ask Rex to make his Instagram private, or he’ll question me. If I ask him to block James, he’ll assume he’s messing with me. My mouth will stay shut, my secrets hidden, and I’ll keep dealing with James the best I can by pacifying him.
Eventually, he’ll get tired of me.
Hopefully.
I arrive at the church two hours early to set everything up.
The weather is on our side today, the sun shining bright with a slight breeze. The fundraiser is being held in the parking lot. My biggest goal during these events is to keep the kids entertained, so I made sure it was near the playground, I ordered a bounce house, and the elementary school principal agreed to attend dressed up as a clown.
Food and money have been donated, and from what I’ve seen on Facebook, the fundraiser should pull in a decent crowd, which is typical. Blue Beech citizens love their church, food, socializing … and gossiping.
The after-school program is a great cause. Years ago, my mother started it, and she runs it for free along with other volunteers. The church provides free childcare to children until parents can pick them up after work.
People are arriving, searching for seats while children run through the parking lot toward the bounce house.
“Hey,” Rex says at the same time his arms wrap around my waist from behind.
His arms don’t move as I turn around to face him.
“Hey.” A hint of shyness is in my tone, surprising me since I’m always myself around him.
Then again, we’ve also never hung out in public the day after his face was between my legs.
He looks as hot as ever today with his black shirt and knee-length ripped black shorts with frayed ends. His hair is messy, per usual, and I can’t stop myself from running a thumb over the stubble coating his jaw.
What happened last night exposed the attraction we’d hidden for too long. It’s freeing now that everything is out in the open, and pride swells through me over the thought that he trusts me enough to take this step together.
My shoulders slump.
What is this step?
A quick speed bump of us hooking up, and that’s all it’ll ever lead to?
Tonight, I’m asking him. We’ve always been open and honest in our relationship. Even when we were holding back from anything physical, we knew the feelings were there—that there was so much love that it’d take a heavy chain saw to break it.
Only inches separate us, and his hands trail down my waist before tugging at the hem of my green dress. “I like this.”
I peek up at him, biting the corner of my lip, wrapped in the zone of him. “Thank you.”
He nuzzles his face into my neck. “I wish I could take it off.”
That makes two of us.
I rub my thighs together, and he laughs when I push my body into him.
“Maybe later?”
The contagious grin on his face causes me to do the same when he pulls his head away, his hands still wrapped around my waist. “Are we having another sleepover tonight?”
Heat shoots up my neck. “If you want? Maybe we can play video games again?”
Excitement lines his features, and he chuckles before dragging me into his chest and pressing his lips to the top of my head. When he pulls back a bit, we stare at each other in hesitation, curious on our next move. Rex owns it by dipping his head down and pressing his lips against my mouth this time.
“I’d love another round of video games.”
“Carolina!”
I jump back at the sound of my father’s voice as he’s stalking in our direction.
Shoot!
We were so wrapped up in our own world that I not only forgot there were other volunteers and my father here, but I was also close to making out with Rex at my church.
My dad will have a field day with this one.
A lecture is coming as soon as we’re alone.
18
Rex
Pastor Adams is positively putting a bad word in for me with God.
He’s doing a sucky-ass job of hiding his frustration while strolling in our direction.
My kiss with Carolina was hardly a peck, but from his heated face, you’d think Carolina was straddling me, naked, on the teeter-totter.
While delivering my best face of innocence, I shove my hand out when he reaches us. “Pastor Adams. It’s nice to see you again.”
He shakes my hand, his firm tight, while his lips form an irritated frown. “Rex, I appreciate you coming.”
“Anything I can do to help,” I reply with a big, friendly smile.
Rick’s gaze shifts to Carolina, and he jerks his chin toward the other side of the parking lot. “Your mom needs your help with the donation baskets.”
Carolina’s cheeks are as red as the roses I bought for her birthday this year. “Of course.” She signals toward the tables. “Let me wrap this up, and I’ll be right there.”
“Nah, I got it,” I say, waving my hand toward a table covered in baskets. “Go help your mom.”
“Thank you,” Carolina says, shooting me an apprehensive glance before turning her attention back to her father.
The fundraiser reminds me of a mini carnival. A large pavilion is set up over the tables and chairs. The children have plenty to entertain them—playground, jump house, clown, and a DJ blasting kid shit. Carolina arranged a silent auction, and those entering the spaghetti cook-off are arranging their food placements. I raise a brow when I spot the dunk tank. Mr. Rogers, the old high school football coach, was the dunk tank dude, but he recently moved.
Who’s taking his place?
I situate the tables and chairs exactly how Carolina does every time, and she returns minutes after I’m finished.
“Perfect timing. Show up right when the hard work is done,” I joke.
“You’re so hilarious.” She rolls her eyes while walking away, waving me to follow her. “Come on, my favorite helper. I have the perfect job for you.”
I follow her, having no shame in checking out her ass. “What’s this job?”
“You’ll see,” she sing-songs.
“That’s scary. Last time you said that, you auctioned me off for a date, forcing me to endure dinner with the town’s cat lady.”
“Ms. Gorgman is sweet.” Her voice is full of sarcasm.
“She asked for her cake to go with the intention of me licking it off her later—verbatim.” I shudder, reliving the moment in my head.
“Oh, please. I doubt it was the first time you licked food off a woman.”
“Not cake, and most definitely not off a
sixty-five-year-old woman who has the stench of cat piss.”
“Lucky for you, it’s not a date auction.”
“Better not, or be prepared to drop your savings to buy a date with your boy.” I signal down my body. “You know this sells for big money.”
She scoffs. “Calm down, Casanova. Your job is way better than paid dates.”
When she stops, a groan leaves me.
“The dunk tank? Not fucking happening.” I make a circle around my head. “Do you know how long it takes to perfect this look?”
“Five minutes,” she deadpans.
Next argument point coming. “I don’t have dry clothes to change into.”
“You’re covered. I brought some of yours from the loft.”
“I love how well you planned this out without telling me.” My finger moves to my chin, tapping it, as her face floods with delight. “If I recall correctly, whenever I ask for my clothes back, you say once they make it to your place, they’re no longer mine. Sorry, babe, but I can’t change into your clothes. It looks like you’ll be sitting your pretty ass in that tank.”
The thing looks like a death trap with the wire net around the tank and the red target on the bright yellow backstop.
It’s her turn to signal to her hair. “It takes me a good hour to do this work of art.” She grins, slapping my shoulder. “I win. Follow me, and I’ll show you where to change and shower when you’re done.”
“Fine,” I grumble. “I’m only doing this because I love your ass.”
She grins wildly. “I know.”
How does she always manage to talk me into this shit?
I’ve been chilling in the dunk tank for a good thirty minutes, and I have yet to go underwater.
One reason might be that only kids have played.
I’m ninety percent sure that will change when Molly hands Maliki the ball.
Shit.
“Dude,” I blurt out, shifting in the uneasy wooden seat, the ice-cold water up to my knees. “Hand the ball back to the kid, and I’ll buy you a round of beers.” I pause to hold up four fingers. “Make that four rounds.”
Today’s goal is to not get wet.
Maliki turns his hat backward, throwing the ball up in the air and catching it. “Did you forget that I own a bar and get my beer for dirt cheap?”
“Fifty bucks then!”
He continues tossing the ball in the air.
“I’ll give you permission to marry my sister.”
“He doesn’t need your permission,” Sierra pipes in before throwing her attention to Maliki. “Dunk him.”
“Why don’t you allow me the honors?”
The crowd, filled with grown-ups and children, part as Rick comes through, all dramatic and shit. He stops in front of Maliki and holds out his hand. Maliki shoots me an apologetic look before passing the ball to Rick. My eyes widen when Rick faces me, and the serious expression on his face confirms he’s determined to make this shot.
I’m unclear why Pastor Adams has a beef with me, but I thought after our breakfast, we were cool.
“Dad,” Carolina warns, catching on to the tension.
“What?” Rick asks, acting clueless. “It’s a game.” His eyes flash my way, meeting mine. “Right, Rex?”
“Just a game,” I repeat, hoping he’s never been an avid baseball player. “Let him have at it.”
Everyone’s attention is on us as they watch my girlfriend’s dad stretch his arm back as if he were throwing the winning pitch at the World Series and then chucks the ball toward the target. The crowd jumping up and down notifies me he’s going to hit the target, and seconds later, my seat collapses, dropping me into the pit of freezing water.
“Holy shit,” I can’t stop from yelling as I come up for air before standing.
Rick doesn’t pay me another glance while handing the ball to Maliki. “Your turn.” Without waiting for his response, he spins around and walks away.
Aren’t pastors supposed to be understanding, kind people?
That’d better have been a truce.
Maliki raises a brow in my direction as I shiver like a wet dog. “Seems you’re bonding well with your future father-in-law.”
“Never had a better relationship,” I reply, my teeth chattering as I wrap my arms around my body.
“Thank you for getting wet for me.”
Carolina is leaning against a wall in the hallway when I step out of the church restroom, wearing fresh, dry clothes.
Lucky for me, after being dunked by her father, my job ended. Carolina had a towel waiting for me when I jumped out of the tank, and I wrapped it around my body while rushing inside the church, barefoot. She was behind me, asking for a volunteer to be the next dunk tank victim, but no takers were speaking up. Not surprising. I doubt my fall looked enjoyable.
I drop the bag of clothes onto the floor and run my hands through my damp hair. “Next time, put me at the kissing booth.”
She shakes her head, pushing off the wall. “Never happening, so don’t get your hopes up.”
“Why not?” I pick up the bag and throw it over my shoulder, walking in step with her. “Would you be jealous?”
We turn down a hall, passing volunteers, and my hand finds hers, weaving our fingers together.
Us doing this is more comfortable than I ever thought it’d be.
It might be only holding hands, something we’ve done countless times, but it’s more than platonic now.
She looks up at me with a radiant smile. “Absolutely, and you’d be the same if it were the other way around.”
“Nah, I’d cut in line and buy all your kisses.”
I grunt when I’m pulled down a vacant hallway and pushed into a dark room. While I wrap my head around what’s happening, the door slams shut behind us, and Carolina’s lips hit mine.
It’s a sweet kiss.
Minimal tongue.
Lasts only seconds.
Her eyes search mine as she pulls her mouth away, but she doesn’t move. “I’ve wanted to do that since you agreed to the dunk tank.”
I lick my lips to taste her. “It was my pleasure.”
She snorts. “It definitely wasn’t.”
“You’re right.” I kiss the tip of her nose and stare into her beautiful eyes. “You can make it up to me later.”
“Question.”
My eyes sweep over to Carolina at her … question. She’s sitting next to me in one of the two remaining chairs we left after cleanup. I’m in the other.
It’s dark, nearly ten o’clock, and the fundraiser has ended. A group of people stayed behind and helped clean up, but it’s only us now. Rick has dodged me since he dunked my ass, but I remind myself to reach out to him and figure out what’s on his mind. My guess is, he’s unhappy that Carolina and I are so serious yet not married. For as long as I’ve known Carolina, she’s expressed her parents stress marriage and abstinence.
I’m tired, every muscle in my body aches, and I can’t wait to go home and collapse onto the couch.
“Answer,” I reply, stretching my legs out in front of me.
“Can you clarify this?” She signals between us.
I raise a brow in confusion even though I’m not confused about shit. “Huh?”
“What’s going on with us?” She delivers the words slowly, as if it’ll take a moment for my brain to digest them.
This is what I’ve feared since day one.
The dreaded what are we talk.
It’s not the first time I’ve been asked this question. Those discussions ended in awkwardness and me fleeing the scene.
I’m shit at expressing myself.
Shit at clarifying labels.
I clear my throat, scrubbing a hand over my now-sweaty forehead while gathering my thoughts before allowing them to fall from my mouth. Unlike with other women, there’s no walking away from this conversation with Carolina. No matter how weird it gets, I’ll have this talk with her. She deserves that.
“How about you clarify
what you want us to be?” I finally say.
That’s a good answer.
Whatever she wants to be, I’m game.
Her furrowed brows inform me I’m stupid, and that was not a good answer.
“Nope,” she quips, shaking her head repeatedly. “We can’t do that.”
“Why not?” My mind races for the reasons we can do that.
She thrusts her finger into her chest. “I can’t clarify what you want.” Her finger points at me.
Valid point.
I want her, but I also need her help walking me through this so I don’t fuck anything up.
I wrap my arm around her shoulders, and her chair rattles as I drag it closer to mine. I soften my voice as I say, “I want what you want.”
Her head drops into the crook of my neck as she leans into me. “I can clarify what I want, Rex, but you’re the only person who can speak for your heart, for where your head is.”
“My heart is with you.” The words come out effortlessly, but their meaning is massive.
I grin as she relaxes against me, and my hand strokes her arm.
“And your head?”
My hair rises on the back of my neck. It’s not always the heart you have to fight. Sometimes, it’s your goddamn head that fucks you up.
“My head is …” I release a heavy sigh. “I won’t lie and say I know what I’m doing because I sure as hell don’t. I can’t promise to be perfect, but I can promise to give this everything I have.”
She loses a breath when I turn her in her chair so we’re facing each other, her features unreadable.
“Can you work with that?” I ask, fear storming through me.
Will that be enough for her?
A slow smile builds along her lips, settling my stomach, and her hands cup my face. “I can most definitely work with that.”
“Perfect timing!” Josh shouts when we walk into the apartment to find him and Angelica sitting on the couch while watching TV. “Looks like we’re about to have our first double date! How was the fundraiser?”
“Good,” Carolina answers around a yawn. “Long.”
Just Friends (Blue Beech) Page 16