by A. J. Pryor
On any given day, Roan was cool, calm, and collected. Clearly, at work, Roan was focused and driven. He could not keep his attention on this phone conversation for more than five minutes without getting distracted by work. “Roan, why did you call me if you’re so busy?”
“I’m not that busy, Locks, just the Monday morning grind. So what’s happening at the airport?”
I started to tell Roan how we were about to eat breakfast when I heard him once again rattle off instructions to his assistant. Tired of being ignored I said, “We’re eating breakfast, drinking coffee, and watching a little Internet porn.”
Roan stopped talking to Carrie and I instantly had his full attention. “What?”
“So you are paying attention.”
He laughed. “Goldilocks, you shocked me for a minute. I didn’t think you even knew what porn was.”
“Well I do. Go take care of business and I’ll talk to you later.” I hung up not giving him a chance to argue with me.
“Roan?” Jaxon asked.
“Yes, I have no idea why he calls.”
“Because the guy is so into you he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Anyone within a ten-mile radius can see it.”
Taken by surprise, my cheeks began to heat and I looked at him in disbelief. Roan had pretty much said the same thing to me about Jaxon. I doubted either assessment was true.
“Roan has women stashed all over the world, Jaxon. I can guarantee you he is not attracted to me. He’s fascinated with me because I’m the only female friend he’s ever hung out with on a regular basis who hasn’t seen him naked.”
“Well, that in itself is impressive. Last time I saw you, you were definitely into the guy. Glad to see you’re over him.”
Dramatically crossing my arms over my chest, I met Jaxon’s eyes. “I was never into Roan.”
Throwing his hands up in surrender, a smile tugged at his lips. “Okay, Jess, I get it, you never liked Roan, just wanted to see where he lived. Totally get it.”
I settled back in my chair and slightly relaxed my arms.
“But he’s definitely into you,” Jaxon said, before pulling out his phone and checking his emails.
Huffing, I reached for my own phone and pretended to be busy. Roan liking me in any romantic capacity was the most ridiculous thing I had heard in ages. And even if he did, he’d put me on this friends-only pedestal that it seemed I was never going to come down from. So whether I had feelings for him or not was a moot point, our relationship was at an impasse.
“Our flight is finally boarding, let’s get going.” Jaxon startled me from my internal monologue and I got up to board the plane.
Once seated, Jaxon explained everything that was in store for me today. I was going to meet his dad, look over a possible contract, and see what the plan was if we did move forward with this deal. As the plane was making its descent into the San Francisco airport, my stomach did a small flip-flop. I couldn’t believe this was actually happening. “Jaxon, thank you for putting this together. I’m not sure I would have gotten this book published without you.”
He grabbed my hand and gently squeezed. “Yes, you would have.” Leaning forward he kissed me on the forehead. We walked out of the airport and grabbed a cab, making our way into downtown San Francisco.
“You ready for all of this?” His hand settled on my lower back, and he guided me through his dad’s office building.
“As ready as I’m ever going to be.”
“I’ll introduce you to my dad, then I need to go into one of the empty offices to work for the rest of the day. Call me when you’re ready to leave.”
Mr. Price met us in the lobby of his office building. He was pushing sixty and his blue eyes were just as friendly as Jaxon’s. The way he hugged his son when we walked in the office spoke of a deep family bond that made me smile. Jaxon introduced us, and then took off. I talked with Mr. Price for a few minutes about how I came up with all the recipes in the book and if I planned to write a second one. He suggested some changes, had design questions, and wanted to see if I’d mind doing a few informal interviews and some preliminary photo shoots. Tiffany, his assistant then entered the office, and he instructed her to handle me the rest of the day.
I was taken from Mr. Price’s office to a whole set of rooms downstairs where I was interviewed, re-interviewed, and hustled from place to place. I’d had my makeup done three times and my hair four. If this was a trial, I bristled at the thought of when we’d take these photos for the actual book.
Jaxon was waiting for me in the lobby when I finally emerged at seven-thirty. He did a double take the minute he saw me. “Jessica, you look beat.” He hugged me tight then pulled me away from him. “What is all over your face?”
I glared at him. “Makeup, Jaxon. It’s called makeup, and you can thank your father for having his people make me up like one of the housewives from that television show. They swear they have to glob this much on so the photos come out right.” My makeup routine usually consisted of some mascara and a little lip-gloss. This was over the top.
“Well, they know what they’re doing, but come on; I’ll take you back to the hotel so you can wash all that junk off before we go eat. You look better without it.”
“Do we have to go out? Can we just order room service, watch a movie, and call it a day?”
Jaxon’s dimples appeared, and he grabbed my hand leading me out to catch a cab. “Whatever you want, Jess.”
I was settled on the couch in my room with my feet plopped up on the coffee table. Jaxon and I shared a pizza and Caesar salad and were now settling in to watch a movie. I was flipping through the pay-per-view section when I stumbled across Dirty Dancing. “This is what we’re watching,” I announced.
He looked over at me shaking his head. “There has to be something else.”
“This is it.”
Jaxon groaned when Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey started their dance lessons. “What’s your problem?” I asked.
“I just don’t get it. How can he teach her to dance like that on a summer vacation without her parents finding out? This movie is kind of ridiculous. It would take months of lessons to be able to learn all . . . that.” He waved his hand at the TV in frustration.
“Stand up.”
“What?”
“Stand up. I’ll show you.” I picked up my phone and hit my playlist for favorite dance songs.
He shook his head but obliged.
“Take my hands. Now move your hips like this.”
He stood still and glared at me, holding my hands as I moved my hips around him. “Jaxon, I said move your hips, now come on, play along.”
Taking a big breath, he started to shake his hips, not at all in the way I was showing him. I didn’t know if it was him or the music, but this wasn’t working. “There is no way a guy like you can’t dance, Jaxon. You’re going to need to learn to move if you want to nab a hot chick.”
His mouth opened and he stared at me. “Are you saying I can’t get hot chicks on my own?”
I looked him over. “No, I’m pretty sure most girls would fall at your feet if given the chance, but you should really be able to dance with them if you want to keep them.”
I turned on “Fancy” by Iggy Azalea. “This is better.”
He raised his brows at me and let me pull him close to my body.
“Just follow me.” I placed my hands on his chest and slid up and down his body, never breaking contact, and explained how he should hold me as we danced around the floor. A few times, I broke away and did my own solo moves to illustrate to him how you have to work with the music to get the right rhythm. He stood there grinning at me, a certain heat in his eyes that made me stop and sashay back up to him, wrap my arms around his neck, and pull him close.
“Take the lead, let’s see if I taught you anything.” His hands grasped my sides and his body slightly relaxed. His hips connected with mine, our bodies pressed close together, and our cheeks lightly touching. He was warm and co
mforting as we danced around the room. The song ended and we were breathing hard, our faces touching and his hands lingering on my back.
“I’m not sure I’m cut out to dance Jess, but if you want to give me another solo act, I’m all for it.” His breath was drifting across my lips as he spoke, his smile gracing the corners of his mouth, and his dimples making their signature appearance. Some techies were hot, and Jaxon was one of them. His grip tightened around me and I swear he leaned in a fraction of an inch. I was preparing myself for when he kissed me, because he sure seemed seconds away from locking his lips with mine. I hadn’t decided if I was going to let him when my phone suddenly started ringing.
I released my arms from around Jaxon’s neck and answered the call. “Hi, Roan.”
“Hey, Locks, what are you guys doing?”
“I was giving Jaxon a dance lesson.” I looked over at Jaxon. His back now faced me, and when he turned, the smile that had graced his lips moments before was gone. I realized Roan had gone silent on the other end of the phone.
“Roan?”
“How did he do?”
“I’d say for his first time, not bad.” I smiled over at Jaxon and the corners of his mouth inched up slightly showin’ a hint of dimple.
“Hey, Roan, we were about to watch a movie can I call you later?”
“Sure. I wanted to see how everything went today.”
“Exhausting, but great.”
“Cool. Oh and also, I wanted to let you know I signed that snowboarder I was telling you about.”
“Oh my God, Roan, that is awesome! Congratulations! I’m so happy for you.” He had been trying to get this one guy to sign with him for over a year. Some young kid who was going to be huge one day. This was amazing news.
“Thanks, we can celebrate both our accomplishments when you get back.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll call you later.” I hung up and sat back down next to Jaxon.
“Roan thinks I’m moving into his territory doesn’t he?”
I looked at him confused.
“He thinks I’m making a move on you tonight. That’s why he keeps calling.” Jaxon leaned in close to me. “Tell him he doesn’t have to worry. As hard as this is for me to say, I don’t make moves on women whose hearts don’t belong to me. He’ll figure it out Jess, give him time.” He then kissed me very gently on the lips and settled back down to watch the movie.
“Jaxon, Roan and I are just friends.”
“Jessica, I like you. A lot. You’re funny and crazy-smart, not to mention gorgeous. Take my word for it, you and Roan are an explosion waiting to happen. I’m not about to get in the middle of that, but I’m here for you, whatever you need.” He rested his hand on my knee and relaxed back into the couch.
We finished the rest of the movie in silence. I wasn’t paying attention to any of it. All I could think about was the word explosion. I wasn’t necessarily sure that was a good thing and I was relieved Jaxon hadn’t tried to kiss me.
When Jaxon returned to his own room, I contemplated phoning Roan, but chose not to. My mind was consumed by the image of a wick that had been lit and was blazing toward detonation.
he should have been home yesterday, but I still hadn’t heard from her. I spent the entire night wondering what she had been doing with Jaxon in her room. It was torture; I was going nuts as I sought out re-runs of Dallas merely to hear that southern twang.
Maybe she’d decided Jaxon was more her type. I couldn’t obsess about it anymore. I was too busy with work to focus this much attention on one girl. I was done playing games.
Her voicemail picked up when I called. “Locks, are you back in town? I want to hear how your meetings went.”
Hitting end and placing the phone back in my pocket, I paced around my house, opened and closed my fridge, then opened and closed it again. I checked email and rechecked my voicemail to make sure it was working. The silence was killing me. Fuck it. My eyes landed on my car keys. My mind was made up before I had a chance to think about what I was doing. I’d drive to her house and see what the hell was up with her.
As I was heading to the door, my doorbell rang – it was my neighbor, Melissa, and her friend. Shit. I’d banged the friend after some block party last year and couldn’t remember her name.
“Hey guys, how can I help you?” I asked suspiciously.
Melissa’s brown hair was a tangled mess, her eyes red and swollen. The minute I opened the door she burst into tears. “Roan, Grant left me.” She walked into my house as if she owned it and sat down on my couch—her friend following behind her. Yeah no shit, I almost blurted out. Grant Ryan was a fucker and I hated his punk ass. He’d seen me carrying Jess to the car a few weeks ago when she’d been stung by that bee. The way he looked at her in my arms, I’d wanted to rip his head off and make sure he never looked at her again.
“Do you remember Natasha?” she asked. Natasha, that’s right. I would have gotten it eventually. She was rubbing Melissa’s back, trying to comfort a girl who should have known better. You get involved with someone like Grant, there is no happy ending.
I grabbed three beers from my fridge and joined them, welcoming the distraction that stopped me from jumping in my car and breaking down Jessica’s front door. Melissa dove into her story of heartbreak while Natasha and I drank. Then we drank some more. By the time Melissa was done with her tale, I’d brought out a tequila bottle and the three of us had made our way through most of it. I found Natasha sitting in my lap and I didn’t do anything to move her off.
“Roan, where’s your bedroom?” she whispered in my ear. I rarely had seconds and my bedroom was officially off-limits to any female looking for a good time. If this girl was getting laid tonight, it would be right here on my couch.
Melissa got the hint and went to the bathroom; Natasha turned and straddled me. She was wearing a jean skirt, which hiked up on her hips, exposing a very tiny silky black thong. There wasn’t much separating her wet core and my crotch and I could feel her heat through the cotton material of my shorts.
I was drunk, pissed at Jessica for blowing me off, and horny as fuck, so I wrapped my arms around this girl who smelled like cheap perfume and kissed her. As I pulled her close to me, her crotch rubbed against my lap.
My dick started to stir awake and tried desperately to make an appearance. Natasha darted her tongue out and licked her way into my mouth. I didn’t stop her. I needed some release from the pent up emotions I’d been feeling the past few weeks, and I had no idea how to handle all the thoughts that had been racing through my mind.
Natasha ran her hand down my chest and to my crotch. She started to untie the strings on my board shorts as she continued to rub herself back and forth on me. I vaguely thought about where Melissa was and if she was suddenly going to re-emerge from the bathroom, but the thought faded when Natasha found my dick and gently squeezed. “I want you to fuck me, Roan, and I want you to fuck me hard.” This girl was about as subtle as her fake red hair, yet there was no denying I was turned on. I had a chick rubbing herself back and forth on me and she’d just grabbed my cock and told me to screw her senseless. She was moaning and, normally, I’d have gladly screwed her on the couch.
But, in an instant, the raging hard on I’d been sporting was gone, the desire to get into this girl’s pants had vanished, just like it had with every other girl for the past few months. And with complete clarity, the truth began to wash over me, as visions of Jessica filled my mind until it was overflowing—her eyes, her hair, her sass, and that damn southern twang. I finally understood what in the back of my mind I knew, but had been trying so hard to deny. I didn’t want to bang this chick because I only wanted Jessica and no amount of moaning or cock rubbing was going to change my mind. That Texan fire-cracker held a piece of me and I didn’t want it back, she could keep it. But, I needed to figure out how to move us forward without also royally fucking us up. I grabbed Natasha’s arms and pulled my lips away from hers. I was about to tell her she needed to leave wh
en Melissa reappeared.
“Who’s that?” asked Melissa.
I looked around to see what she meant, following her gaze to the sliding glass doors that lead out to the canals. Outside, Jessica turned and quickly walked away.
“Fuck! Get off me!” I pushed Natasha to the side and jumped off the couch. Instantly closing my shorts as I ran after Jessica.
“Locks!”
She didn’t stop.
“Goldilocks, stop!” I started to chase after her but she hadn’t parked far away and was already getting in her car. “Goldilocks, stop. Talk to me!”
She slammed her door and without glancing in my direction drove off.
“Fuck!”
I walked back to my house, humiliated, drunk, and feeling like a piece of shit. There was a gift bag sitting next to the sliding glass doors on my porch with a note that read, Congratulations on your new client! Love, Goldilocks. God, I’m such an ass.
I picked up the bag and walked back in my house. Natasha was sitting on my couch. Her ponytail had been taken out and red-not-found-in-nature hair spilled across her shoulders; she was naked. Melissa had made herself scarce.
“Get out,” I whispered. My tone left no doubt.
“Seriously, Roan, you’re going to leave me like this?”
“Natasha, get the hell out of my house. Now. You have a hand, go finish it yourself.” I grabbed her clothes off the floor and threw them at her. “I’m going to make a phone call. Be gone when I come back out.”
She lobbied some sort of expletive in my direction but I wasn’t paying attention.
I walked to my room, picked up my phone, and called Jessica. She didn’t answer and I didn’t expect her to. “Locks, I know it looked bad, but it’s not as bad as it seems. Call me.”
The gift bag was sitting on my bed. I looked inside, took the tissue paper out, and unwrapped it. There was a large black box with the word Rip Curl on the outside. I opened the box and found a Titanium Tidemaster 2, one of the best surf watches in the world. This girl was amazing. I’d been eyeing this watch for weeks after my last one had broken. How would she know it was exactly what I needed? I wrapped my new watch around my wrist, sat on my bed and waited for my phone to ring.