Her hazel eyes search mine, and I want to reach over and brush her high cheekbone, feel the curve of her neck in my palm. She looks elegant and sexy tonight, but softer somehow. Less intense and high-strung than she’s been the past few years.
Ruby sits up and turns, planting a big wet kiss on Peyton’s cheek and knocking us out of our eye contact conversation.
“Now you kiss her, Jared!” Ruby giggles.
Peyton’s eyes widen, and my heart flip-flops. “No that’s okay, Ruby. But I’ll take a kiss from you!”
I lean over into their space, Peyton’s vanilla and cinnamon scent filling my nose and making all of the blood in my body rush south. Ruby clasps my face in her little hands and plants a sloppy kiss on my cheek, and I make sure to rub my nose on her own cheek.
“Okay, now you two kiss! I kissed both of you, now you kiss!” She claps her hands before eating a stray pasta piece off the tablecloth.
I shrug, leaning in to them again. What Ruby wants, Ruby gets. Those were the rules. I feel Peyton stiffen, the sound of her heart pounding in my ears. Well I’ll be, she’s nervous. Her skin is warm and soft, as my lips get closer, my heart beating just as fast as hers now. You’d never know I’d been inside her, had the real thing, her entire body at my will. I’m shaking in my boots just being able to kiss her on the cheek.
Peyton turns her head, Ruby none the wiser that we’re fulfilling her request. Not in the innocent way she asked it, but fulfilling it nonetheless. My lips connect with her cheek at the corner of her mouth, the salty taste of her pasta mixing with whatever sweet lotion she put on. Her skin is soft, and if I were standing up I’d have to brace myself. My knees actually buckle in my chair.
A tiny moan escapes Peyton’s lips, and I keep my mouth on her skin, closing my eyes and pressing my nose to her cheekbone as I breath in her scent and warmth.
“Jared …” Her voice is a caress, a green flag to keep going.
“You kissed! Yea!” Ruby’s shriek has me pulling back, my heartbeat booming in my ears and one leg crossing over the other to hide the massive hard-on tenting my pants.
Peyton’s face is unreadable, and I suddenly wish we were alone in that car where I could break down all of her walls. Or at least rip off all of her clothes.
We order dessert, ice cream sundaes for all three of us. By the time Ruby takes a few bites of her whip cream cup, she’s yawning. Ten minutes after that, she’s asleep in Peyton’s lap.
“Thank you so, so much for everything. Truly, you have no idea what this means to her.” Ruby’s mom tearfully thanks us as she takes her sleeping daughter off of Peyton.
“It was an honor to have dinner with her. Truly, it was our pleasure.” Peyton lays her hand over Ruby’s back.
We say our good-byes and Peyton exchanges numbers with Ruby’s mother, something that both intrigues and surprises me. She says she wants to keep in touch, possibly come and visit. And then we’re alone again.
She turns to me. “Want to walk back?”
15
Peyton
The night is mild with a light breeze. It’s not warm, but it’s not winter cold like it was up North, making it a nice evening to walk back to the hotel the tour generously paid for while we’re in North Carolina.
“You were really great with her.” Jared walks slowly, quietly beside me as the last twinkling rays of the sun turn to darkness. The streets are relatively empty, everyone inside or asleep on a school night during November.
“Thanks, kids are easy. It’s adults that I have a hard time with.” I smile, a small sigh of a movement.
Jared nods his head as if he agrees, but I don’t think we have the same outlook on people. Jared, when he’s not retreating into himself, is pretty charming. People like him, they like his genuine down south personality. When people look at me … well. Women are either envious or disgusted, and men just want to get in my pants. I don’t have many friendly relationships.
Our conversation lulls, and I suddenly feel awkward. “Are you going home for Thanksgiving?”
The fall holiday is in three short days, and I’d just been planning on ordering Chinese takeout to the bus. Some of the other gymnasts are flying home for a short turnaround trip, and others have family coming out to them.
“They might come out, I’m not sure yet. My older sister just had her second baby, and one of my younger brothers gets deployed in a month, so they might just say there.”
I’d forgotten how big Jared’s family was. He’d once told me that sometimes he felt lost among five other siblings. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what it was like to be one of six children.
“It must be fun, to have all of that life around you.” And love. But I don’t say that.
“It can be. Watching my nieces and nephews get bigger each time I go home is hilarious. But … I’ll never be as good with them as you were in there with Ruby.”
“She’s an incredible little girl. Persistent, but incredible.” I drop a hint about the kiss because I can’t not.
I can still feel the urgent throb he left in the hollow of my belly when he laid his lips on my cheek.
Jared’s mouth smirks, and then frowns. He’s still conflicted, just like I am. We’re playing a dangerous game, flirting on the out of bounds line. We could stay here, circling around each other and playing it safe. Or we can cross it, venturing into the territory we’d buried four years ago.
“I’m not sure how to feel about this either.” I cross it. Because, fuck it, I’m me.
“Feel about what?” He’s giving me an out.
I don’t take it. “Us. I feel it, too.”
Jared sighs, and I’m not sure if he’s annoyed I brought it up or relieved so we can actually talk about the elephant in the room.
“We’re really going to talk about this? Why? Why now, Peyton?”
I throw my hands up, my arms hitting the cold air. I didn’t wear the proper jacket, and I shiver.
A strong hand halts my elbow as I try to continue walking. Jared turns me toward him, stopping us face to face. His expression is unreadable … and then … he shrugs out of his suit jacket.
“Here.” Jared twirls the coat in the air around my body, and then settles it onto my shoulders once it’s in the right position.
It’s warm and smooth inside, the silk expensive and insulating. I can’t help sniffing the lapel. Mint, sandalwood and shea butter hit me full force, taking me back to a bed in London.
I stare up into his eyes before I whisper, “We’re talking about this now because it never ended. Because clearly, you’re still taking care of me and I’m still trying to stay, and not run, as best as I can.”
He still hasn’t taken his big hands off my shoulders. “Okay. So talk.”
We’re standing under the awning of an empty office building, and it strikes me that this is the weirdest place to have this conversation right now.
“Do you want to go back to the hotel?”
Jared lifts one eyebrow. “We’re talking, Peyton. I’m not going to fall under your spell and into your bed.”
That one burns as I swallow his meaning. “I’m not trying to pull anything over on you. I was trying to mend this, be adult about it, and you’re just going to insult me? Fuck you, Jared.”
I strut off, my heels clacking on the pavement.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Jared catches up to me, waving his arms. “I just … it’s been this way for so long between us. Hostile. It’s going to take me more than two seconds to warm up to the idea of talking about this.”
My feet continue to move, my whole body irked by his suggestion that I gloss over everything with sex.
“Peyton … Jesus, I’m sorry!”
I halt, and he has to backpedal to stop where I’m standing. “Did you just take the Lord’s name in vein?”
He clams up, his face going an adorable rose shade.
“You did! Well, now I know you’re sorry. Okay, we can talk. Let’s go to the hotel bar though, I could use
a drink.”
Twenty minutes later and we’re being led to a booth in the back of the hotel restaurant. It’s dark but gleaming, done in shades of mahogany and gold. The whole thing feels mysterious yet inviting, like you could sit in one of these booths and lose hours of time without even realizing it.
“And what can I get you started with?” The waiter sets down menus, which neither of us touches.
Jared nods for me to order. “I’ll have a vodka soda, with extra lime. And he’ll have a Jack and ginger.”
The waiter nods and turns to leave, and I hear Jared chuckle under his breath. “What if that wasn’t what I wanted?”
Rolling my eyes, I want to get down to business. “So what is going on between us?”
Jared choke-laughs. “You never did waste any time, Peyton.”
I disregard what he said and focus on myself. It’s time to get to the truth of things. Because the truth is, I’ve wasted too much time over the last few years. Over the last ten if I’m being honest. Even before I was forced to question my feelings about Jared, I knew it was time to make a change. I’ve been too lonely, too detached. Floating through life on material items and bullshit affection isn’t cutting it anymore.
“I’m different, Jared. After I got cut … well, something changed. I don’t know how to describe it. And being on the tour, I’ve seen things. Between our teammates, how they treat each other. This is a family. And then Ruby …”
It all pours out. I don’t know where it’s coming from, and I haven’t voiced these feelings to anyone since I started feeling them. Not even Nat.
Jared’s face softens. “Peyton, that’s called growing up.”
I laugh sarcastically, because it’s so silly but so correct. “I guess you’re right.”
“I’m … that’s great for you. It’s nice to see. How you were tonight, it was humbling to see you like that. I can appreciate that you’re changing, but … the last few years between us haven’t been … Peyton, I’ve hated you at times. We are so dysfunctional, I’m not even sure we should be friends.”
The waiter sets our drinks down and we both take huge gulps. The vodka burns as it slides down my throat, but the burn turns to confidence and sure footing that I didn’t have just seconds before.
“I’ve hated you, too. Good God, I’m glad we can get that off the table.” I giggle, the liquor making me lightheaded already. Or maybe it’s Jared, sitting so close to me with those beautiful brown eyes and intoxicating smell.
His face turns dark. “I thought we were having an honest conversation.”
I slap the table, annoyed. “We are. But life isn’t so serious, darling. You have to learn to have a little fun, too.”
This was always our fundamental problem.
“It was a week. Just a week, Peyton. Why are we still doing this four years later?” Jared shakes his head and swirls the ice cubes in his glass.
“Because sometimes a week is all it takes.”
My statement hangs between us, thick and heavy. Jared’s eyes turn hooded, his gaze flicking down to my lips. I feel my blood begin to heat, the friction of my stockings as I rub my thighs together driving me insane.
“So we’re just going to forget it all? All of the fighting?” Jared’s trance still holds me prisoner.
“No. We can’t. You … you broke my heart in London. And I think I broke yours. But it seems we can’t get away from each other, from this.”
The waiter sets some bread down in front of us, but Jared never takes his eyes from mine. “It’s like an invisible rope, a magnetic connection. I can’t seem to break it, no matter how much I try to convince myself we’re no good for each other.”
I’ve tried for so long to ignore the pull he has over me, so I know exactly what he means. He has the ability to crush my heart into fine grains of sand, and yet I can’t run in the other direction even when I know I should. Because … maybe, just maybe, I’m done running.
“Has anyone else ever come close?” I suddenly need to know if it’s been the same for him as it has for me.
“Never.” He picks up his tumbler and winces as the whiskey slides down his throat. I can’t take my eyes off of his Adam’s apple as it bobs.
“Me either.” I say it almost grimly.
After a minute of silence, Jared chuckles. “You know, other people would be happy about having feelings for someone and that person having them back.”
“Well, we never were the perfect couple.” I join him in laughing.
“We were never actually a couple. Everything with us went too fast, too hot, too angry, too emotional. Maybe … maybe what we need is slow.”
I want to try this with Jared, but I also hear his words from four years ago ringing in my head. And our other fights, our nasty texts. At some point, those are going to have to be addressed, we’re going to have to sort through all of the ugliness and hurt we’ve caused the other. But for now, this is enough.
I raise my glass, about at my limit for emotional and honest talks. “So … to taking it slow?”
Jared looks at my hand, the one with the glass in it, tilting his head to the side in contemplation. And then, he lays his warm hand over mine on the table.
“Why not? Heck, I’ve got nothing better to do for the next two months.”
And then the charming bastard winks at me.
16
Peyton
Thanksgiving to me means canned cranberry jelly and turkey sandwiches.
Most kid’s families have the huge spread, the delicate china and the ironed linens. They have grandparents asking them to sit on their knee and tell them about school. They have aunts who pinch their cheeks too hard and hours of playtime with cousins they don’t see often enough.
Most kid’s weren’t me. Because do you know what those picture perfect Thanksgiving households needed before they set to cooking and hosting? A clean house. And that’s where my mother came in. There wasn’t a last Thursday in November of my entire childhood that we didn’t wake up before the crack of dawn to make another woman’s home spotless for the company she was expecting later.
“Chinese food? That’s really what you’re going to get?”
Anna would never understand my mentality on this holiday, no matter how many times I explained it to her. Not that I ever have, because she’d look at me like some sad, confused puppy.
“Yep, Chinese and a rom-com marathon. It’s how I like my holidays.”
And it was. There was no drama, no which family member wasn’t speaking to that one, no awkward or forced conversations. I got to load up on MSG and sappy love stories. Although, I guess it meant I was growing up as Jared had said … because I felt a throb of loneliness coursing through my veins as I saw various tour members leave to fly home and be with their families.
“You sure you don’t want to come out to dinner with us? We have reservations for a full turkey dinner?” Anna eyes me, innocence and kindness pouring out of her.
She’s a sweet girl, if just a little naive. I’d never crash her big holiday plans with her boyfriend. Not only because the night was going to be special for them, but I just had no intention of being a third-wheel.
“Naw, that’s okay. You two crazy kids go on, I’ll be fine. I don’t even like turkey.”
She hesitates a moment before waving and then heading down the hall. I close my hotel door and gallop to the bed, eager to get my movie set up and ring down for my chicken lo mein. Nat flew to California for Thanksgiving; a perk of her big buck sponsorships is that she can see her family a little bit more now. Julia isn’t here, so I’m assuming she went home, but it’s not like we talked about it. Anna and James are out to dinner, Duke went with Ryan to his parent’s house, and Jared’s mom and dad flew out to spend the holiday with him.
Jared.
I’ve seen him in passing over the last three days, but we haven’t talked anymore about taking it slow. I’m not even sure if we’re still taking it slow, or if we ever were. Don’t people who are dating, or
thinking about dating, or whatever the fuck we are doing … you know, talk? Should I text him? Do I wait for him to reach out to me?
JESUS CHRIST! This is why I don’t date!
It’s why I never let men close to me. Because right now, Jared Hargrove has me shaking in my boots and unsure of what to do … two things I most certainly never am.
After calling down, I scroll through the movies available on demand. About Time, one of my favorite British rom-coms, is calling my name, and I flick it on. Not ten minutes into the movie there is a knock at the door, and I jump up, pumping my fists over my head at the egg roll about to be in my belly.
Except when I fling the door open, it isn’t room service at all. No, it’s a tall drink of water in a cream colored sweater.
“Expecting someone?” Jared’s smirk is handsome, and my knees may wobble a little as he stares down at me.
“Oh you know, just this guy named Jim. Rolling a room service cart, little bell hop hat … you haven’t seen him, have you?”
Jared chuckles. “I haven’t but I’ll flag him down for you if I do. Listen, I’m headed to dinner … but I wanted to say Happy Thanksgiving.” He peers into my room, the TV lighting the dark space. “I hope you have a nice night.”
I don’t miss the fact that he didn’t invite me to join him. “You too, tell you parents … ah, I mean Happy Thanksgiving to you and your family.”
We stand in awkward silence, neither of us knowing what to do next.
“Hey, if I’m not back too late, maybe I’ll come say goodnight.” He lays a hand on my shoulder, the one point of contact between us making us both jump.
As soon as he pulls his hand back, I can feel the warm print branding my skin. “That would be nice. Well, hope you have a good holiday.”
We wave and he turns, with me shutting the door while pretending not to focus on his retreating back. I slump against it, trying to swallow the feeling of disappoint at not being invited.
Grasping Air (Flipped Book 2) Page 7