Later that night, sprawled across the bed in my darkened bedroom, I called Jake, using the cell phone that he had given me. I held my breath as it rang once, twice, three times – and went to voicemail.
Damn it.
I disconnected the call and wrapped myself around my oversized pillow, squeezing it hard against my chest. Probably, it was time to face facts. He was done with me. And I couldn’t say that I blamed him.
Everything he had told me – about Vince, about Bath Girl, correction – Candy, about everything, it had all turned out to be true. And yet, in none of those cases, had I given him the benefit of the doubt. Was I just like everyone else? All too willing to think the worst of him?
I squeezed my eyes shut as images of him flashed across my mind. He was the cocky teenager who'd rescued me from bullies. He was the twenty-something bad-ass, who'd banished me from his life to protect me from his friends. He was the guy who had loved me of all people, in spite of the fact he could have any girl he wanted.
He deserved better.
But there was something else he deserved. A heartfelt apology. A real apology. If I couldn't at least give him that, I wasn't worthy to even call him my friend.
Screwing up my courage, I clutched the phone and called again. This time when it went to voicemail, I took a deep breath and said, "Listen, I don't blame you if you don't want to talk to me. But there's something I need to tell you."
My voice cracked. "I'm sorry. I wish you were here. I'd tell you in person. If you wanted, you could even laugh at me. I'd totally have it coming. Get this. The thing with Bath Girl? I'm pretty sure it was all just a setup."
I tried to laugh. "She was an actress, if you can believe it. You see, I saw this hotel picture of you. With her. In the elevator. Not naked or anything, but it looked bad, even though it probably wasn't. Stupid I fell for it, huh? Anyway, I just thought you should know, I mean, in case it happens again with someone else."
At the thought of Jake with someone else, I couldn't bring myself to say another word. With a heavy heart, I disconnected the call. After a long, depressing moment, I wriggled out of my jeans, and crawled under the covers, wearing only my T-shirt and panties. In my makeshift cocoon, I curled into a ball, listening to the muted sounds of Kung fu coming from the living room.
When at last, I fell into a fitful sleep, I dreamed of him. And I heard his voice, low and tender, close against my ear. "Luna?"
Unwilling to wake up, I yanked at the covers, pulling them upward until I met resistance – warm and hard resistance that jolted me wide awake.
He was here, a shadowed figure kneeling beside the bed. His voice was quiet. "Don't worry. It's just me."
I bolted upright. "Jake? What the hell?"
Chapter 46
In spite of my outburst, his voice remained steady. "You want me to go? Just say the word."
Confused, I glanced around the darkened room. "How'd you get in here?"
He pointed toward the far wall. "The balcony door."
My mind was whirling. "But I'm three stories up."
"You're telling me."
I rubbed at my eyes. "Huh?"
"And why wasn't it locked?" he asked.
I gave my head a little shake. "What?"
"In this neighborhood?" He leaned closer. "You've got to be more careful."
I almost laughed. "I've got to be more careful?"
"I'm not kidding."
"Hey, I locked my bedroom door," I pointed out.
Through the shadows, he frowned. "So you locked your inside door, but kept your outside door wide open?"
"It wasn't wide open," I said. "It was unlocked. And besides, only a maniac would climb up this high."
"Exactly," he said. "You lock it from now on. Alright?"
Jake might not know it, but the whole debate was pointless. My lease was week-to-week. Since I was officially dead-broke again, I'd be moving in just a few days. Where to, I wasn't quite sure. But the way I saw it, the whole balcony door thing was hardly a long-term problem.
"Well, I will now." I told him. "Now that I know there's a maniac on the loose."
When he said nothing, I reached out a hand, suddenly fearful of shattering what might yet be a dream. "You're really here?" I asked. My fingers brushed the side of his face, and I wanted to sigh with contentment. "Why didn't you call?"
In his voice, I heard the hint of a smile. "I did. You didn't answer."
"When?" I asked.
"Maybe an hour ago."
"So you came over?" I said. "Why?"
"Because you asked me to."
At this, I did laugh. "Since when do you do anything I ask?"
He was quiet a long moment before saying, "You want the truth?"
"Definitely."
"When I called and you didn't answer—" He hesitated. "I had to see you."
I felt myself smile. "Yeah?"
"And," he continued, "I figured that if I got here, and you told me to take off, well, at least I'd know you're okay."
"Jake?" I said.
"What?"
"I really am sorry."
"Yeah, I heard the message. But don't be."
"But I am," I insisted. "And I'm not ashamed to say so. I should've believed you."
"Why?" he asked. "It made sense not to."
I felt myself tense. "What are you saying? That there is another girl?"
"There's only one girl I want," he said, "and she's way too good for the likes of me."
"How can you say that?" I said. "If anything, just the opposite is true."
He shook his head. "No."
"Yes," I insisted.
"Luna." He leaned his head closer. "I'm no saint."
"I don't care." I recalled something he had once told me. "Besides, what would a sinner like me do with one of those?"
"You're no sinner." His finger brushed the side of my face. "You're the sweetest thing I've ever known."
From somewhere out in the living room, I heard the echo of battle cries, followed by the lingering clang of what could only be a giant gong.
Jake glanced toward the noise.
"Kung fu," I said.
He nodded like he totally got it. Why should I be surprised? He was a guy after all.
"It's just my brothers," I added.
"Yeah? Good to know."
"Oh, like it would be anyone else." My voice grew coaxing. "But just to be safe, you might want to hide out with me under the covers. You know, in case of ninjas or something."
He gave a slow nod. "Subtle."
Although he was obviously joking, I couldn't help but say, "Tell me something."
"Hmm?"
"Am I chasing you? You know? Like all those other girls?"
Clothes and all, he crawled under the covers. "Other girls?" he said. "No such thing."
"It's a serious question."
"Alright." He turned sideways to face me. "Here's my serious answer. No."
Somehow, in the darkness, it was easy to be honest. "Oh come on," I said. "I mean, you've got to know that I've been in love with you since I was like twelve. I've never even been a challenge." I felt myself frown. "But I guess you don't get many of those, huh?"
At this, he gave a low laugh.
"What?" I asked.
"A challenge?" he said. "That's your issue?"
"It's not an issue," I said. "It's just that you've always had it easy with me."
"Have I?"
"Sure," I said. "Even way back before, one snap of your fingers, and I'd have come running."
"Right," he said.
"It's true. Seriously, where's the challenge in that?"
He slid a hand up the back of my T-shirt. His hand felt big and warm, and something in my shoulders eased.
"Want to know what's a real challenge?" he asked.
I felt myself nod.
"A real challenge," he said, "is seeing a girl who's something special, a forever kind of girl." He leaned his forehead against mine. "…and knowing you can't have her,
shouldn't have her, because your life is too messed up, and she deserves better."
At his words, my heart melted into a gooey glow. Still, it seemed almost too far-fetched to be real. "That can't be true," I whispered.
"Why not?" he asked. "You think it's easy to stay away from what you want? To keep quiet when you want to say something? To stand still when you want to move forward?" He pulled me close. "Luna, if you think it's been easy for me, you've got the wrong idea."
I felt myself smile. "Be honest. It couldn’t have been that hard to keep quiet."
At this, his tone grew teasing. "Is that so?"
"Definitely."
"So," he said, running his hand lower until it caressed my hips. "You wanna test that theory?"
Something in his voice sent my pulse jumping. "How?"
"Give me fifteen minutes," he said. "You stay quiet, and later, you can say, 'I told you so.'"
My breath caught. "What if I don't stay quiet?"
I felt his hand slip under the backside of my panties. When he cupped my ass, I felt ready to squeal already.
His voice was low. "Not gonna happen."
I had to laugh. "Cocky, are you?"
He pressed his hardness against me. "What do you think?"
I heard myself giggle. "No fair. You've got a secret weapon."
"Not gonna need it," he said, tugging down my panties.
I stifled a groan as the lacy fabric disappeared somewhere under the covers. My hips, seeking his hardness, surged forward like they had a life of their own.
"You're not gonna win that way," he warned.
I was just about to argue when I felt a long finger brush the inside of my thigh. My breath hitched. Again, my hips pressed forward. He was wearing jeans of all things. Desperately, I reached for the button at his waist.
He reached for my hand, stopping me in mid-motion. "The game isn't 'Make Jake Squeal,'" he teased.
My voice was breathless. "So it's a game?"
"No." He planted a soft kiss just between my neck and shoulder. "But you'll like playing anyway."
Again, I felt his hand move between us. By the time he touched me again, I was already slick with yearning. If this was a game, I was the biggest loser ever, because I wasn't even willing to fight it.
With one expert finger, he stroked that special spot again and again, around one way and then another. When he slipped a finger inside me, I bit my lip to keep from begging for more.
At that moment, I swear, I could almost read his thoughts. He had done something very similar with his fingers the very last time we were together. And I had liked it. I had liked it a lot.
I hadn't exactly been shy about it either.
He pressed his lips close to my ear and said, "You're my forever girl. You know that, right?"
Did I know? I wanted to. On impulse, I said, "Can I confess something silly?"
He moved his head lower and nuzzled at my earlobe. "Anything."
I smiled at the memory. "The first day we met, I told myself that I'd marry you someday."
I waited for him to laugh.
He didn't.
He stiffened.
I felt myself cringe. "Well, but you know, I was twelve, so…" I gave a stupid little laugh.
"Why is it silly?" he asked.
I wasn't sure what to say to that. "I don't know. It just is. Right?"
His fingers began moving again. "What's the matter?" He tone grew almost playful, but not quite. "You think I wouldn't make a good husband?"
Oh wow, how did one answer something like that? Jake was untamable, irresistible, and impossible to predict. And right now, he was driving me to distraction. Breathlessly, I said, "Actually, I can't quite picture you married."
"Is that so?"
His fingers were moving achingly slow now. Desperate for more, I ground against him. In truth, I wanted more than his fingers, and more than his lips. I wanted all of him. Half forgetting his question, I nodded as my hips surged forward like they had a mind of their own.
His fingers picked up the tempo, and I felt his lips teasing my earlobe again. His voice was a whisper. "How about you?"
With everything he was doing, I could hardly speak. "Me?"
"Yeah." His tone, along with his fingers, grew teasing again. "Can you picture yourself married?"
I could, in fact. But for some reason, I didn't like the thought of saying so. When his fingers grew coaxing, I whispered, "Sometimes."
"Well," he said, "the next you picture it, and the guy's not me, you're gonna have some explaining to do." With that, he did this wonderful thing against that special spot, and a small moan escaped my lips.
As he did it again, he said, "Got it?"
Breathlessly, I nodded.
"Good," he said, doing it again.
This time, my moan was just a little louder. Heat flooded my face. Too loud? Did I care?
"You like that?" he asked, doing it yet again.
Conscious of the Kung fu marathon just down the short hallway, I clamped my mouth shut and nodded against him.
The tempo of his fingers increased, and soon, all I could do was pray for some sort of noisy, ninja attack, because I couldn’t stop myself from giving in completely to everything he was doing. Soon, I gave up and turned my face into the pillow and just prayed I didn't wake the neighbors.
When something like sanity returned, a different kind of craziness took its place. Desperate to have him inside me, I yanked feverishly at the waistband of his jeans. Why on Earth had I let him crawl into bed with those things on in the first place?
When the button finally popped free, maybe even literally, I joined Jake in tugging them downward, along with his briefs – assuming he'd been wearing briefs. In that moment, I wasn't quite sure of anything.
But the next second, I was flipped on my back, and he was inside me. I felt his hands on my ass, and his lips near my ear. "I love you," he said, "and don't you forget that. No matter what."
Breathless and crazy for him, I somehow managed to gasp out, "I love you too. And don't you forget." Reaching up, I tore at his shirt, yanking it over his head and throwing it somewhere across the room.
It was too dim to see, but not too dim to feel, so I let my hands roam wildly over his body, soaking up the feel of him. His body felt so damn good, and the things he was doing with it were driving me utterly insane.
At the end, I think I must've screamed, because a moment later, I heard the television go suddenly quiet. Soon, one of my brothers – I couldn’t even tell which one – was pounding on the bedroom door and calling out, "Hey, you okay in there?"
Chapter 47
My brothers were still knocking. Against my shoulder, Jake was shaking – maybe with laughter, or maybe with the throes of spent passion.
Somehow, I managed to call out, "It's okay. I'm good."
Through the door, I heard the voice again, Anthony's. "What happened?"
"Um, nothing. Leg cramp."
"You need help?"
"No," I blurted out. "I mean, I'm fine. I'm just going back to sleep."
Into my hair, Jake said, "That's what you think."
"Shhhh!" I said, waiting for them to go away.
When a minute later, I heard the television return to normal, I turned toward Jake and whispered, "Do you think they bought it?"
"Depends on the quality of the Kung fu," he said.
I stifled a laugh. "Seriously?"
His tone grew solemn. "You doubt me?"
"I don't know. Should I?"
As an answer, he gathered me close to him and said, "You're dangerous. You know that?"
This time, I did laugh. "I am? To who?"
When he spoke, his voice held no hint of humor. "Me."
I didn't know what to say to that, so I pressed my cheek against his bare chest and listened to the steady rhythm of his heart. The sound – not to mention the mind-blowing sex – had nearly lulled me into a dream-state when I remembered something.
I sat up. "I forgot
to tell you. I quit my job."
In his voice, I heard a smile. "Yeah?"
"Oh yeah," I said. "You were right. Vince was a total asshole."
"Got that right." His hand brushed my face. "And, if you were willing to work for one of those, you should've taken my job offer."
"I couldn’t."
"Why not?"
"Because," I said, "what if I turned out to be the next Bianca?"
"How?"
"Well," I said, struggling to put it into words, "you know how she worked for you?"
"Yeah?"
"She wanted more. And then, when she couldn’t get it, she turned into a total basket case. And I saw the contempt you had for her." I let out a long breath. "I didn't want that to be me."
"It wouldn't have been."
"Why not?" I asked.
"Because you're not Bianca." Reaching for me, he pulled me back into his arms. "You're the girl I love. Big difference."
I smiled against his chest, and for a fleeting moment, I wondered if this was, in fact, all just a dream. If it was, I decided, I didn't want to wake up, ever.
Later on, when I did wake, he was gone. I sat up in bed and looked around, half-afraid the previous night had all been a dream after all. Bleary eyed, I stumbled, naked, out of bed, threw on a silky bathrobe, and wandered into the main living area.
It was just after dawn, and my place was empty. Outside the window, it was clear and sunny, which explained why the only signs of my brothers were empty pizza boxes and damp towels, draped over the furniture.
They really were slobs. Still, I knew I'd be missing them soon. Based on what they told me the previous night, they would only be in town for a couple more days. Apparently, their small part in the giant construction project was nearly over, which meant they'd be soon returning to our hometown, two hours north.
I glanced around. In spite of the mess, the place suddenly felt way too empty. Or maybe I was just missing Jake. Desperate to confirm that I hadn't merely imagined last night's visit, I dashed to my bedroom and retrieved the cell phone that he'd given me. I pulled up his name and hit the call button, waiting for the dreaded voicemail to kick in.
But this time, he answered with a warm, "Hey, so you're up?"
I let out a long, relieved breath. "Yeah. When did you leave?"
"A couple hours ago."
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