“You remembered that?” I don’t know whether to be impressed or annoyed she remembered that detail.
“I remember a lot, too. Have you heard anything from her over the years or know where she lives?”
I look down at my menu. “No. She’s never contacted my dad. When he signed the divorce papers, he said they listed a Milwaukee address, but we don’t know if that’s where she actually was.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. I can’t believe she’d do that to all of you.”
Staring at the list of salads, vaguely wondering if a cob salad is a corn on the cob thrown on top of a pile of lettuce, I frown. What the fuck is that shit?
Considering that Kat is waiting for some sort of response to the subject I’d rather avoid, I absently shrug at the menu. “I’m over it.” I’d like to think I am.
“I could never do that to my kids or husband.”
My eyes fly up to her face before I can rein in my reaction. “You’d actually try marriage again?”
Kat nods and reaches for her drink. “I’m hoping that I can get it right someday. Don’t you want that someday for yourself?” Here we go again. Question of the century.
I shake my head and return to my menu, hoping I find something else on there to distract me from this unfortunate turn in the conversation. “I’m not getting mixed up in that bullshit.”
“What if you find the one and you fall madly in love with her?”
The one. Christ. I grimly laugh as I drag my attention to the main entrees section. “I’m not getting mixed up in that bullshit, either.”
“Really? You don’t think you’ll ever fall in love?”
I laugh again, this time, more like she just told me a faintly humorous elementary school knock-knock joke. I fleetingly glance up to her expectant face and then aimlessly skim the alcoholic drinks. “Positive. I’m not going to be a victim to some romanticized ideal that doesn’t even exist.”
“Why do you say that?” More fucking questions.
I sigh, blowing a breath of air across my balled hands. Why can’t we just talk about driving? Or what she talked about with Calder? “Now you sound like my sister. She’s in love with a guy who’ll never marry her. Why does she have to get married anyway? It’s a waste of her time to wish for something that she doesn’t need or isn’t going to happen.”
“So, you think being in love is a waste of time?”
I again shrug, but don’t look up. “From what I’ve seen, pretty much.”
“Maybe you’ll miss out on having something really beautiful with someone.”
Venturing to see her optimistic expression, I scowl at her and sneer, “Did Dash tell you that?”
She flinches and her brown eyes fall to the table. “No. My mom did.” I’m relieved. I thought I might have to kick his ass for sounding more of a pussy than I thought he was.
“She thinks you should get married again, too?”
Kat rests her cheek on her hand and nods, her gaze skeptical now. “Definitely. She thinks my first marriage didn’t count because he wasn’t my soulmate.”
“Shit. Now that does sound like Calder. Don’t bring up that word around him. He starts salivating.”
She smiles against her hand and I’m sidetracked by her lips. I bet they taste better than a cob salad. Kat disputes, “He’s a good guy. You should know that he’d do anything for you.”
I roll my eyes and stir my straw around my tea, trying anything to avoid staring at her mouth again before I start imagining what she could do to me with it. “Except shut up. He never does.”
Kat laughs and it forces me to look up, our gazes inevitably latching on to each other’s. “He just wants to make sure you hear what he has to say.”
I scoff, “Right. He’s like one of those yippy dogs. I hear him. Trust me. He’s hard to miss.” She laughs again before taking a drink, and I mindlessly blurt out, “What’s so beautiful about sadness and rejection?” What the fuck is my problem? I’m only begging to open up that topic again. Maybe I am a robot. Fuck Duquesne, too.
Sighing, Kat pushes away her glass. “That’s not what true love and a marriage are supposed to be.”
I curtly reply, “Tell that to my father.”
Frowning, she quietly says, “What happened to your family is horrible, Jared. My parents are divorced, but neither of my parents left my life, so I don’t know what you’ve been through.”
Pointlessly observing the empty table next to us, I grumble, “Well, rejection is something I wouldn’t wish on anyone.” Not even Kat after she rejected me several times.
Correction: Especially not Kat.
I’m such a pussy. Calder doesn’t have anything on me.
“Jared, I’m familiar with rejection.” I look back to her. Kat wrings her fingers together and averts her gaze, appearing suddenly ill at ease; however, she’s unpredictably determined when she asserts, “Still, I believe that my true love is out there somewhere.” Suddenly her voice drops to a whisper, “I just have to…keep looking, I guess.”
I shrug even though she’s staring at the table. “It’s your time if you want to waste it, but right now, you need to use your time getting back on the road.”
As if in a trance, she continues musing to herself as if I didn’t say anything, keeping with the tradition of no one paying attention to a damn thing I say. “Maybe Dash is right, and I once had what I was looking for right in front of me.” What the fuck did Calder tell her? That is like a sucker punch to my gut. I was always trying to be in front of Kat, but I must’ve been more transparent than a fucking window. I have to nearly bite off my goddamned tongue to prevent me from getting up on this table and shouting that to her.
Swallowing my useless argument, I return to perusing the alcohol, even though I know I can’t drink any, since I’m always in the driver seat and responsible for Kat’s driving, as well.
Ultimately, I moodily drone, “Maybe you did. I don’t know. Didn’t you date someone in high school?” Shit. I really don’t want to know anything about him. I saw enough of the asshole.
“My senior year. I broke up with him after graduation.”
What the fucking hell did she just say?
Her senior year? That’s not right.
“Wait,” I start, but the waitress interrupts us, which severely irritates me. I’m not even hungry anymore and I order the first sandwich I see, not caring what else it comes with or how I want it cooked. All I can do is stare at Kat, barely able to contain my agitated questioning.
One second into being alone again, I spit, “You dated someone your junior year.”
A look of confusion shrouds Kat’s pretty features, and she shakes her head. “No, I didn’t.”
I poke my finger onto the table, insisting, “He was tall with dark hair and pointy ears.”
Her confusion changes to humor. “You just described Dr. Spock.”
I impatiently probe, “You didn’t date him?”
“Dr. Spock?”
I’m irritated even further and I struggle not to growl at her. “No. That guy you were with.”
“When?” She tilts her head at me, searching my face for clues to her own past. Jesus.
Anxious, I lightly rap my fists on the table, annoyed that we’re not in the same neighborhood on Memory Lane. “I saw you with him a number of times. Between classes and at lunch.”
Kat’s eyebrow shoots up. “We didn’t have the same lunch period. How’d you see me with him?”
“I just did. I wasn’t always in class.”
“Oh.” She blinks as she processes that. “I did see you a couple times during my lunch, but I thought maybe that was all. Why weren’t you in class?”
“I had my reasons.”
“To skip?”
“Yeah.”
“What were they?”
“Don’t worry about them. So, who was the guy?”
“Adam—same as your dad. Isn’t that funny?” Kat laughs, but I don’t because I’m waiting for a detailed explanation
to what I fucking misunderstood all these years. When she sees that I’m not in a joking kind of mood, she says, “We were just friends. I knew he was gay before he did.” She laughs again, but mostly to herself.
I cease my rhythmic fist thumping and lean forward. “Hold on. You didn’t date him?”
She emphatically repeats, “No. Just friends. Why?”
“I thought he was…” Shaking my head, I can’t even finish my sentence. I’m so fucking tied up—my tongue, my mind… What the fuck just happened? My whole routine of believing something entirely different has been ripped out from under me like an old rug, and I just fell on my ass.
My head is still spinning when Kat goes on to say, “I didn’t think you noticed who I hung out with, except for that one time you asked me if my friend Dez was my boyfriend, which he wasn’t.” I remember cornering her during her lunch period, and I almost had kissed her when she said she wasn’t dating him. It seems like I’m always on the verge of kissing Kat Merrick, but can’t bring myself to actually do it.
Still, I can’t forget that she didn’t want me, proving that over and over, up and down. Another rejection is only a breath away. That’s what I have to keep in mind.
Our food is actually brought to us fast, yet we both sit staring at our plates, not wanting to eat or talk. Her dinner with Dash was probably more enjoyable. Another demerit for that fucker.
When the check comes to the table, I snag it. Kat argues with me, but I roll my eyes, trying not to let on that her glower makes me want to smile.
Glancing out the window as she continues to pout, I state, “We’d better get going so you can drive.”
Kat clasps her hands together as if in prayer. “Please, don’t take me on a busy road, Jericho.”
I do smile this time. “Actually, I wanted to wait until rush hour tomorrow afternoon for that. Sound good?”
Her jaw drops and she assuredly snaps, “You’re a jerk.”
Instead of laughing, I’m absorbed with fresh wayward thoughts of her open mouth being all over me. As my cock jolts to life, I clear my throat, and distracting myself, I tease, “I like honey better.”
“You’re a jerk, honey.” She bites her lip to not laugh, which results in me halfheartedly laughing. My mind is stuck on her revelation. Even though I was wrong, it still doesn’t change that she made no effort to reciprocate my want for her. That stings, especially now when my want has unfairly increased and I’m again enduring this one-way street shit.
After I take care of the check and we stand, Kat waits for me to leave, but with one hand hovering around my dick, I sweep the other out for her to go first. She smiles and as she passes me, she gives my bare arm a squeeze. Fuck. That definitely does nothing to hinder my recurrent fantasy of her riding my cock instead of the brake.
In one of those damned-if-I-do-and-damned-if-I-don’t situations, I have to walk close behind Kat to hide any telltale hard-on I still have. Wearing jeans helps, but walking close to her only winds me up even more. Someone out there hates me.
Walking into the muggy heat, I ironically breathe a sigh of relief that my brain now has something to divert my attention.
Before we reach the car, I hand Kat the key; however, she shoves it back at me. “I can’t drive now! We’re on a busy road!”
“If you turn right when you leave the lot, it takes you along a back road.”
She screeches and jerks her thumb to the road, “It’s still a road! There’ll be cars on it!”
I dubiously laugh. “Usually roads do.”
Kat folds her arms tightly around her stomach and looks back to the road, whispering, “Jared, I’m so afraid.”
I watch the hot breeze slightly blowing the strands of her streaked ponytail. “Hey, I’ll be right by your side. Stop thinking of all the negative things and think of the positive.”
“Not many positive things came out of me driving a car.” Ouch.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” The downward tone makes her whip her head away from worrying about the road to look at me.
“I didn’t mean… I’m… I really enjoy spending time with you.”
I shrug and walk to the passenger side. “Whatever. I wasn’t looking for a charity acknowledgment.”
“That’s not why I said that. I meant that nothing positive comes out of me driving on the road. I didn’t mean this whole experience. I’m sorry.”
Standing on the other side of the car from her, I say over the roof, “Stop apologizing and unlock the doors.”
“Not until you believe me.”
I lamely reply, “I believe you. Now unlock the doors.”
Appearing disconcerted, the car’s lights flash and I open my door, sliding in before Kat does. The sting of her comment still burns, but I’m more confused as to why it does. I shouldn’t even care, not that I do care, yet I guess I do. Some. Goddamn it. My mind is a quagmire.
Shutting the doors in tandem, she turns to me and says, “Jared, I honestly like being with you. More than you even realize.” The same thing Kat probably says to Calder.
I can’t look at her because I want to believe she’s telling me the truth, and if I do look into her eyes, I will indisputably believe her. Why would I do that? All this time I haven’t believed much of what she’s told me. I keep wondering if I’m just fucking clueless again and she’s playing more damned mind games with me. I can’t even think straight when I’m around Kat anymore. How in the fuck am I able to help her concentrate on driving?
“Jared, what’s wrong?”
I glance at her as I grab my seatbelt. “Nothing. Don’t forget to check your mirrors.” I’ve got to let all this shit go. Focusing on Kat’s driving is all I need to think about. For now. I know I’ll dwell on the rest of the shit later.
Kat frowns before she checks her mirrors—20 times each, still not putting the car into reverse. Leaning my head against my seat, I chuckle at her stalling. “Come on, Kit Kat. Show me your skills.”
Kat narrows her eyes at me and I teasingly lick my lip, which makes me suddenly laugh at my own absurdity. As I laugh, she smiles. “You wouldn’t know what to do with my skills, honey.” Oh, shit…honey. Kat knows exactly how to get rid of my smiles at any given time. She can’t talk to me like this, especially in here where I can’t hide the status of my crotch very well.
Yet, I can’t stop myself from playing into it.
I doubtfully angle my head at her as a grin reappears on my face. “Really? I bet I could find a use for your skills.”
Pairing my grin with hers, she teasingly palms the top of the gear stick. “Like shifting your gears?” Holy fuck, Kat. I’d give anything for you to do that to me right here in this parking lot.
Tucking my hand between my legs to hide my rapidly returning hard-on, I shift toward her, beyond the ability to stop my teasing or my erection. “Just make sure you use a nice, firm grip…baby.”
Her grin widens and she slowly licks her bottom lip, so fucking better than I did to mine earlier. “The knob always gets my attention.” Jesus Christ. Forget jerking me off. I’d give anything for her to blow me right here in front of anyone in our vicinity.
Swallowing hard, I sit up and try to curb the teasing, since it’s getting too out of control for me. Adopting a more authoritative voice, I order, “Turn on your headlights.”
Kat gives a lascivious smile with an arched eyebrow. “They’re already turned on.”
I smile because I can’t help it, but still maintain, “I’m serious.”
She turns them on, mumbling, “So, am I.” About what, really? She wouldn’t mean what I hope she’d mean.
Wait. I can’t hope for that. Fucking shit, Jared Beckett.
I tell her and myself, “Okay. Focus.”
She stiffly nods. “Yes, Mr. Beckett.” Fuck me. My hand is going to be stuck between my legs for a while.
Kat pulls onto the road, starting off great, but I soon notice we’re going slow. Really slow. I’ve seen cement set quicker than this. I give her a f
ew minutes to acclimate to driving on the road, but she gives no sign that she’s going to increase her speed. I glance at the speedometer and then her face. “Kit Kat, give it some more gas.”
Without taking her eyes from the road or even blinking, she says, “I’m scared to.”
“You’re going to have to give it gas on the road. You can’t drive this slow.” I look over my shoulder at approaching headlights behind us. Shit.
“I’m trying, Jared.” I notice Kat’s hands shaking on the wheel. I won’t let her quit. She’s a victim of her past and the unfortunate accident, but she can’t be scared all her life. Something’s gotta give and it’s going to be her fear that does. Not her.
More forcefully, I say, “Try harder. You can do it.”
“I’m nervous!”
As cars start building a line behind us before passing, and some honking their horns as they do, I growl, “Fuckers.” Kat becomes more flustered the more cars that whiz by. “You’ve been doing great with the accelerator. Make friends with it again.”
She yells, “I don’t want to go too fast!”
I don’t want to yell to scare her now, so I calmly inform her, “Parked cars go faster.”
“Fuck you!”
“Shit. Calm down. Ease onto the gas pedal and at least get it to 30 MPH.” Her hands begin twitching more and she chews on her lip. I can feel her will slipping. “Kat, focus.”
“You telling me to focus is not helping!” Another car passes us and she squeals, abruptly steering us onto the side of the road, throwing the car into park. The next thing I know, she’s out of the car, taking off somewhere behind it. I hit the hazard lights and jump out to follow her.
I yell, “What the fuck are you doing?”
As she jogs away from the car, she cries, “I can’t do this! Forget about helping me! I’m done!”
I walk faster, thinking that she’s not really going to keep running away from me for long. “Like hell you are! Get back in the car! You can’t leave it here on the side of the road!”
“Then you drive it!”
“Get back here, Kat!”
The Keys to Jericho Page 23