by Theresa Rite
“Really.” Jack’s angry glare flashed to my face. “You fucking slut.”
Jason chambered a round in the gun, and Joplin began barking again.
“Get in your goddamn car and don’t ever come back here,” Jason ordered evenly.
“I’ll have you both fired,” he raged, pointing first at me, and then Jason. “You’re her boss. How will that look for your career?”
Jason shrugged. “I don’t care about my career nearly as much as I care about Sandy. And she’s liking that for a change.”
Jack’s face turned purple with fury. “He hasn’t wanted you in all these years, Alexandra, why the fuck do you think he’d want you now? He pities you. Pure fucking pity. The sooner you realize that, the better.”
It felt like a piano had been dropped on my chest. I didn’t have time to process his words; Jason was already stepping forward.
“Okay, you little prick, either get the fuck in here so I can shoot you or get off my fucking porch,” Jason ordered.
Jack gave me one more pointed, disgusted look before turning toward his car. Jason stood in front of me the entire time it took for him to peel out of the driveway and take off down the road.
“Joplin,” Jason’s commanding voice brought the dog to his side, and he petted her gently. “Good girl.” He focused on my face. “San?”
I was shaking. My hands trembled as he unchambered the round in his gun and set it on the table next to the door, pointing the barrel away from me.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice breaking on every syllable.
“Just breathe,” he whispered, carefully gathering me into his arms. “In, out. I’ve got you.”
“Can we leave? Can we go to your mom and dad’s tonight?” I begged, recognizing the borderline hysteria in my voice.
“Of course we can. I’ll call them now. Mom texted me earlier and told me that she was making stuffed peppers. I know you love her stuffed peppers,” he added calmly.
“I do. They’re so good,” I murmured into his shirt. “With mashed potatoes.”
“She made a vat of mashed potatoes. With lumps. For you.”
I exhaled a laugh before breaking down.
He held me while I cried.
After a little while, he kissed my forehead. “Hold still.”
Confused, I watched him as he reached for his cell phone. He drafted a quick text, to his mom, I assumed, and then dropped his phone into the iPhone speaker dock on the end table.
“Your t-shirt last night. Reminded me of that summer at the beach. And this song. I’ve been listening to it all day.”
The Foo Fighter’s “Walking After You” began, filling the living room with music.
He took me in his arms and slowly, deliberately, danced with me.
I imagined how we looked, with me and my black eye, standing in his sweatpants and fuzzy pink socks… and him, sweaty and disheveled from his run. I didn’t think twice about burying my face in his chest, and his hands worked over my lower back.
“I’m tangled up in you, Sandy,” he whispered, his breath warm on my ear. “I have been for as long as I can remember.”
Oh, God, my heart.
I moved even closer to him. The music swelled, and he took my hand, his finger tracing over the scar from our oath.
CHAPTER TEN
Jason
“Jason.”
“Mom.”
We stood side by side at the sink, working through the dinner dishes. I heard Sandy laugh from the living room, and one of Scott’s girls, either Carrie or Carlie, squealed with delight.
“You have loved that girl for twenty-six years. Don’t mess this up.”
I sighed, accepting the frying pan from her hands and patting it down with the towel. “Mom?”
“Hmm?”
I lowered my voice, leaning closer to her. “Why now?”
Catherine Brewer gave me one of her epic sighs, leaning one hip against the counter and crossing her arms over her chest. “Honey, why not?”
I shrugged, setting the pan on the counter. “Why did it take us this long? Why did we waste so much time?”
“It’s not a waste of time, living your life, becoming the person that you are,” she corrected.
“I’m afraid to rush her.”
“Rush her?” She snorted, leaning back to gaze into the living room. Sandy kneeled over Carlie, giggling and blowing raspberries on her belly. Carrie attacked, and within minutes she had them both in fits of laughter. “That girl has wanted babies since she was old enough to know where they came from.”
I leaned against the counter, watching Sandy play with my nieces. Scott and my dad were cleaning up the checker board that one of the twins had turned over, and Emily was trying to gather their belongings to head home.
“I’m not talking about babies, Mom,” I said with a frown. Now Sandy was on her back, and the twins were attacking.
“You know what she wants. You know what she needs. Now be the man who I raised and give that to her, Jason. You are in love with each other. That much is clear.”
She touched my cheek gently, sighing before moving into the living room.
“Sandy,” Emily called, still packing up the stray boxes of wipes and random toys around the room, “I’m going to need you to come over. Every day. You’re good with that, right?”
Sandy grinned my way as I joined her on the floor. Carrie, the louder of the twins, came barreling my way. “Unca Jason!”
“Why are you so stinkin’ cute?” I demanded, catching her and lifting her in the air. She immediately spread her arms, giggling and pretending to fly.
“I cute!” Carlie demanded, and Sandy pulled the other twin in for a giant hug.
“You’re both cute. Like your Uncle Jason,” she added, and I smirked, bobbing my eyebrows in her direction.
“Unca Jason is fuzzy,” Carrie protested, scratching at my chin with her little fingers.
“I like fuzzy Jason,” Sandy defended, leaning in to press a kiss to my stubbly cheek.
I turned and caught her mouth, softly pressing my lips to hers. When I pulled away, Scott raised his eyebrows at me while my mom beamed at the two of us.
On the drive home, Sandy reclined in the passenger seat of my pickup, turning my way. “I had fun tonight. Thank you.”
I turned the music down to a soft hum, reaching to stroke her hair. “You don’t have to thank me. My parent’s home has been home to you since we were kids. They love you as much as I do, Sandy.”
I studied her face carefully, my eyes darting back and forth to the road. She gazed up at me, turning her cheek into my hand.
“I love you too, Jason.”
In the cool, spring moonlight, our “I love you” became something different. It was heavy with years of experience and mistakes, laughter and memories. The words were profound, hopeful, and filled with the kind of comfort that we could only ever give to each other.
I wanted to say more, but instead, I held her hand the entire way home.
I took Wednesday off of work, making her get up and get dressed and go to Home Depot with me for paint. I wanted her room to be her room, and the pale pink walls were Elaina’s taste, not hers. “You just don’t want me moping all day in my sweats,” she countered, thanking me politely as I held the store door open for her.
“As cute as you look in my pants, you’re absolutely right.” We lingered in the paint aisle for a long time, discussing colors.
“Hey, remember when we decided to paint my room ourselves? What were we, eleven? Twelve?”
“Thirteen,” I corrected, grinning. “We found that can out in your parent’s garage-”
“… only it was varnish, not paint, and oh, my God, that smell.” She giggled, wincing at the memory.
“That was the first time your mom grounded me,” I remembered.
“But not the last,” she added. Sighing, she held up two sets of color schemes. “Well, what do you think? This color is called twine.”
I stared at her hands, focused on her long fingers.
In a series of moments, I saw those fingers adjusting my lunch box in second grade. I remembered them learning to ride my bike, and holding my hand as we crossed over the stream in her parents’ backyard. I could feel her palm close over the rocks that we threw into the lake, and remembered her hands sliding over my bare shoulders, clawing at my skin.
“Sandy…”
“What? Too dark?”
I took a step toward her, and she lifted her eyes to mine.
And I kissed her.
She dropped the color sample to the ground as her arms went around my neck. I backed her against the rows of paint samples, holding her face steady. My lips captured hers, twice, softly, before she opened to me. Her sweet tongue coaxed mine, and she formed fists on my jacket collar, holding on with all of her strength.
“Mm,” was all she could manage, between breaths, between kisses. I slid my hands up her sides, crushing her against me, dipping her back so that all she had to hold on-to to keep from falling was me.
“I want you,” I said, my words vibrating against her ear, my mouth dragging over her neck.
She inhaled sharply, moaning as I took her earlobe in my mouth.
“Ahem!”
We bolted apart, and some appalled woman pushed her little boy in a cart past us, glaring.
Sandy covered her mouth, glancing at me once before making a break for the door. I left our cart of paint supplies behind, chasing her out to the front of the store.
“Sandy, wait-”
“I’m so afraid,” she railed, turning to me in the parking lot. Tears brightened her eyes as several people turned to look at us. “I ruin every relationship I’ve ever been in!”
“Oh, you do not. Stop being dramatic,” I told her, rolling my eyes. “You set the bar as high as you deserve. And Jack was my fucking fault. I never should have told you to just go for it on the plane. Do you know I replay that moment in my head over and over, and have for the past three years? When I told you to stop being so goddamn picky on the way to that sales conference? You deserve the world, and I never should have told you to settle!”
She turned and got in my pickup, and I moved to the driver’s seat.
“Just take me to my mom and dad’s. I’ll get my stuff this weekend.”
“Why?” I demanded, cursing myself for moving so fucking fast. “I kissed you. I told you that I wanted you. I’m being honest. I do want you, I want every single part of you.”
“No you don’t. You pity me. You’re the most compassionate person I’ve ever known, and you’re confusing sympathy with love.”
“Don’t you dare try to tell me how I feel,” I said, my jaw clenching with an attempt to hold my temper. I knew that she was thinking of Jack’s words at the door, and at that moment, I wished I would have just pulled the trigger. “You know that I love you.”
She buried her face in her hands, growling into her palms.
“Ugh! Jason! This will not work. You and I will not work! The risk of losing you will always hold me back, and keep me from ever telling you if I’m angry, or hurt, or-”
“What? Are you kidding me? You have never had any problem telling me how you feel,” I said sarcastically, shifting the truck into reverse. “Buckle up.”
She glared at me. “Besides, you and Carissa-”
“Oh, fuck Carissa, I don’t even fucking know her,” I snapped.
“But you should get to know her. I don’t want to be your rebound after Elaina. And I don’t want you to be mine after Jack. We both know what’ll happen. Brew.”
I stared forward, trying like hell to ignore her stupid words.
They were stupid, and she was scared, and I was moving too fast for her.
Staring at the yellow dashes in the road, I gripped the steering wheel tighter.
Were they stupid?
Was there even the slightest chance that she could be right, that we were setting ourselves up for failure by being there to comfort each other?
We both refused to speak the entire drive home. She wasted no time rushing into the house, and as I tossed my keys in the bowl and let Joplin out, I heard the shower turn on.
There were no words that would change her mind. I knew her well enough to accept that.
Grabbing my iPhone, I stalked to the bathroom, pushing the door open.
The steam already filled the space, and she poked her head out from behind the dark brown shower curtain. “Dude!” she cried, clinging to the curtain.
I almost laughed at her, forcing my expression to remain firm.
“I’m not coming in. I know you’ve got your period.”
“And that is the only thing stopping you? Jason, you can’t just come barging in here!”
“Hold on.”
I pressed PLAY on my phone, docking it in the little purple speaker that Elaina had left behind for the bathroom.
In seconds, Mr. Big’s “To Be With You” began.
And I belted out the first verse so loudly, I heard Joplin barking at me from the backyard.
“Jason,” Sandy protested, clinging to the curtain. Her face moved from indignant to annoyed, and by the time I got to the chorus, she was grinning at me.
“I’m the one who wants to be with you,” I said, moving to her and gripping her hand through the shower curtain. “Since sixth grade, the first time Sandy Quinn ever gave me a boner.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” she laughed, the shower continuing to steam up the bathroom. “The dance in the middle school cafeteria.”
“This song. The lights, down low,” I reminisced, taking her other arm and wrapping it around me, letting her soak my t-shirt. “The smell of popcorn and punch.”
“I could feel the bass in the floor, from the DJ’s speakers.”
“You wore white jeans and a red sweater that made you look like a valentine.”
She grinned. “How do you remember that?”
“Don’t you?” I challenged, swaying with her to the music, the shower curtain between us.
“I’m getting you soaked,” she protested softly, and at that moment, I could feel her guard going down.
“Want me to come in?”
“No,” she replied. “It’s like Friday the 13th in here.”
I grinned. “That doesn’t bother me.”
We were silent for a long moment, listening to the song as it ended.
Finally, she looked up at me. “I’m sorry for freaking out.”
“I’m sorry for rushing us.”
Her pretty eyes searched mine. “Rushing… us?”
“Rushing. Us. We’re inevitable. We’re going to happen. But I know it has to be on your time, when you’re ready. I’m okay with that.”
She pondered my words for a moment, finally rising to her tip-toes to press a kiss to the corner of my mouth. “Let me finish up in here, and I’ll be right out.”
I returned her kiss, dropping my lips to her forehead. “Deal. Mr. Big and I thank you for hearing us out.”
She snickered, sliding the curtain closed.
We ended up driving back to Home Depot, getting paint, and had most of her room done by nine o’clock. I ordered pizza and we sat down in front of the TV, beers in hand.
“I like the twine. It has a calming effect,” she commented, staring at streaks of paint on her arms.
“I’m gonna hit the shower, and then I’d better get to bed. I’m planning to wrap everything up at work tomorrow and be ready to drive out Friday morning. Okay?”
She smiled, taking a long sip of her beer. “Sounds good. I’m actually looking forward to getting away for a while.”
“I know. I know you better than you know you.”
She only grinned my way as I took off for the bathroom.
I took a quick shower, wrapping my towel around my hips and moving to the sink. I hadn’t shaved in two days, and the scruffy, blond hair on my jaw was definitely irritating. The soft knock on the door drew my attention.
“Can I… come in for a sec?”
“Sure.” I opened the door, raising my eyebrows. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Come out here.”
I followed her two steps into the bedroom before stopping in my tracks.
She’d lit the candles on my nightstand, and the light flickered against the wall.
“San?”
“Your turn.”
She hooked her fingers inside my towel, pulling it away and letting it dangle for a moment before slipping to the ground.
All the blood in my body seemed to rush to my cock, and as though she knew it, her long fingers wrapped around my thick erection.
She took her time sliding her hand over me, and watching her eyes grow bigger the longer it took to travel my length only drove me madder.
“You like it when I talk dirty,” she said softly, more of a statement than a question.
I exhaled slowly, unable to resist bucking my hips against her warm hand. “Yes.”
“Jason,” she breathed, her raspy voice so fucking sexy in the dark silence. “I want you to fuck my mouth. Go as deep as you can.”
My balls tightened all the way to my stomach, and I groaned, threading my hand through her curls. She bent to flick her tongue against the tip of my penis, and I grunted, trying my hardest not to shove myself into her mouth.
Her hands slid up the back of my thighs, and the moment her lips closed around my cock, I tightened my hold on her hair.
“Fuck,” I hissed, her hot little mouth taking me all the way in, as far as she could go. I tried not to pull her hair, but when her head and her tongue began moving in some possessive rhythm that forced all my muscles to clench, I tugged on a handful of her thick curls. “Sandy,” I moaned, and she made a soft noise that vibrated down my entire shaft. I jerked out of her mouth before coming, and she looked up at me, confused.
“Jason?”
I led her backwards, to the bed, and searched for the lube I’d tossed in my nightstand. She whimpered, shaking her head.
“But I-”
“Turn around,” I ordered gruffly. She bit her lip and turned to face the bed.
I bent her over, tugging down her sweatpants. I had the wrapper torn and the condom on before she could turn back to me. After running my hand up and down my cock with the warming gel, I slid one finger into her ass before she had time to protest.