“The room is satisfactory, I hope,” Vivian said from the door.
“It’s amazing and you know it. Are they all like this?”
“Identical? Gracious, no. But each individually beautiful, yes.”
“Jacob never mentioned this place.”
She didn’t look surprised. “He spent most of his time at school while we lived in London, coming home for holidays. California was where he was born and where we came back to. I imagine he’ll end up there again, too.”
“I won’t mind.”
Vivian smirked. “Undoubtedly. Try to take a nap. Then we’ll have brunch and try to rouse my son.”
Beth folded back the covers of the bed once she left and opened her luggage to get pajamas. A few hours later, a ringing telephone awakened her. “Hello?”
“Did I wake you?” Mrs. Lindsey asked. Her tone said she knew she did.
“A little. Did I miss breakfast?”
“No, dear. We’re setting the table now.”
“I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
She hung up and rolled out of bed, then washed her face, ran a brush through her hair, brushed her teeth, and dressed in a blouse and shorts. Hearing voices when she walked down the stairs, she followed the sound. The object of her affection stood at the kitchen island munching on strawberries.
He talked to his mother with his back to Beth. At twenty now, his body had matured since she last saw him two years ago. His shoulders were broader and he was no longer adolescently skinny. The bleach had grown out to only being on the tips of his hair.
“Ah, there you are,” his mother said.
He turned around. “Bethie!” The biggest smile she’d ever seen spread across his face. With two strides, he wrapped his arms around her and twirled her around. “What are you doing here, love?”
“Surprising you.”
He set her down and backed up to arms-length to look at her. “Bloody hell, you changed in two years.”
Her cheeks turned crimson. “A little bit.”
“Little! You barely fit under my chin now. How was graduation?”
“Salutatorian. Got beaten out for first in class by a tenth of a grade point.”
“Aww,” he teased. “Want me to beat ‘im up?”
“It was a her, and no, but thanks for the offer. Should I ask about your grades?”
He coughed. “Maybe later.” Same ol’ Jacob.
God, he looked good. His face had matured a bit, too, bringing out his cheekbones. His skin was paler than in California, but no less attractive. Today was Saturday, and he wore a tee and low-slung jeans with a studded belt through the loops. Only man she knew who refused to wear shorts unless at the beach.
“Come eat, kids.”
He took her hand and led her into the dining room. What Vivian called “brunch” was no simple spread. The polished table probably sat twelve and was set with china and sterling silver flatware.
“Is this what they mean by an English breakfast?” Several serving dishes were spread before us.
“That you can stuff yourself silly on a good fry-up? Pretty much,” he said.
“A little variety never hurt anyone,” his mother said. She sat at the head of the table, her plate already filled.
He handed Beth a plate and asked, “How long do I get to keep you?”
Forever, her heart answered, but her rational side said, “Uh, I’m not sure? I have to be at UCLA in September, but your mom made the travel arrangements.”
“Well, any mother that brings me a Bethie present earns my everlasting devotion.”
She shook her head, but said, “You’re welcome, dear, though this is just as much for Elizabeth, if not more so. Traveling abroad diversifies a young woman’s education.”
He sat down with his pile of food. “On that note, you have to come see us play tonight.”
Beth smiled. “I’d love to. I brought the t-shirt.” She sat to his right since he’d chosen the corner seat next to his mother.
Her internal clock thought it was three in the morning. Mrs. Lindsey, on the other hand, was still bushy-tailed. Beth didn’t know how she did it. With eggs, fruit, pastries, and sausage in my belly, she felt like another nap. A yawn escaped her mouth while they caught up. Embarrassed, her hand flew up to her lips to hide it.
He poked her side. “I heard that.”
“I’m sorry. My body thinks it’s the middle of the night.”
“Aww, past Bethie’s bed time?” he teased.
“Shut up. You’ve had jet lag before.”
“Not my fault you didn’t plan your flight around your natural schedule.”
“In the same room thirty minutes and you’re picking on me.” She propped her chin on her hand. “Hmm, why did I miss you again?”
He leaned closer, blue eyes sparkling. “’Cause I’m irresistible. A magnet for females young and old.”
“Watch it,” his mother and Beth said in unison.
He laughed, and stretched in his chair. “So easy.”
Beth hit him with her napkin and stood to take her empty plate into the kitchen.
“Elizabeth. Someone will take care of that for you,” Vivian said.
“Pffft, nonsense. No offense, but I carry my own weight.”
She brought the dirty dishes into the kitchen and set them by the sink, then looked for the dishwasher. All she saw were drawers. Well, fine, guess she’d do it by hand. Yeah, she had a bit of guilt over the cost of bringing her here. Even though it was obvious now Mrs. Lindsey could afford it and then some, she still didn’t feel right letting her staff wait on her hand and foot. She didn’t incur debts.
“Love, what are you doing?” Jacob asked behind her, amused.
“Washing my dishes, duh.”
“Looks like you’re puttin’ someone out of work.”
“Huh?”
He took the glass from her hand. “They’re paid to do a job, Bethie. They’re not slaves.”
“I know that.”
“Then remember you’re on vacation and relax.”
Hard to do when he smelled so good. “You haven’t called in a long time.”
“Keep me busy, school and the band. Lose track of the days.”
She glanced down at his wrist. “It’d help if you wore a watch.”
He nodded once, conceding her point. “Probably. Wanna see my world, or do you need that nap?”
“I can make do with caffeine.” After two years away, he wasn’t getting out of her sight.
He grinned. “Brilliant. See you out front.” He walked out.
She found a Coke in the refrigerator, took it up to her room, and freshened up, slammed the soft drink, belched (oops), and grabbed her purse/camera bag. Mrs. Lindsey wished her a good time on the way out.
Beth stopped short when she saw his mode of transportation. “Nuh-uh.”
“It’s perfectly safe,” he said from the bike.
“It’s a motorcycle. And I remember how you drive.”
He held up a second helmet. “Don’t you trust me, Bethie?”
Oh, not the pout…damn him. She took the helmet and stuck it on her head. “If you kill me, I’m haunting you forever.”
He rolled his eyes. “Hold on tight and you’ll be fine.”
Hold on tight, eh? To what? He climbed on the bike and looked back at her expectantly. She straddled the bike behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.
“Put your feet on those little pegs,” he said. She did. He pulled her arms further around his middle. “Tighter. You’ll fly backward when I accelerate with a grip that loose.”
“Okay.”
He started the motorcycle. She had a death grip. Oh-god-oh-god…
When he made it roll forward, she hid her face between his shoulder blades. Air started moving very fast past her body.
Sorry, Mom and Dad…
Chapter Five
When they hadn’t crashed for several minutes, Beth dared to look at her surroundings. Traffic was slowing as
they got into the city proper. The whole left side of the road thing was very strange.
“You okay back there?” Jacob asked.
“Maybe.”
She felt him laugh. The slower pace wasn’t so bad. The buildings weren’t a blur, and the wind wasn’t deafening. She started to notice how firm the body in front of her was. Felt the definition of his abs through his tee. She inhaled the scent of his shirt and relaxed. He still smelled the same, a mixture of fabric softener, cologne, and natural Jacob.
They stopped at a signal. He patted her hand. “Not much further.”
“Okay,” she yelled over the noise of London.
He finally parked by an apartment building. She handed him the helmet. He offered his hand to help her off the bike. There’d been a lot of hand touching today, something he’d never done before. Didn’t know what to think of it.
This wasn’t a new building, but it looked maintained. She followed him inside. He held the door for her. “The lift is out of order, so we’ll have to take the stairs.”
“How many floors?”
“Two.”
“Yippee.” She walked a lot back home, but not up hills or stairs. Nerds didn’t do exercise.
“Wuss.”
“Bite me.”
He tugged on a strand of her hair. “Don’t tempt me.”
Following him upstairs meant she had a nice view of his butt the whole way. “Doing this every day must be a good workout.”
“Keeps me from gettin’ fat,” he quipped.
“Oh, yeah, I’m sure you’re in real danger of that.”
He sighed, laying the drama on thick. “No one understands…”
She eye-rolled. “You are so full of it!”
He stopped in front of 3B and fished his keys out of his pocket. “Home sweet home.”
The interior was a true bachelor pad. One futon, one secondhand chair, and two game systems on the coffee table in front of a large TV. “Live here by yourself?”
“Sometimes.” He dropped the helmets on the floor.
“Sometimes?”
“Yeah. Sometimes a mate needs to crash. Sometimes I’m short on rent.”
“Ah. What about now?”
“Alone.” He shrugged. “Technically.”
“Meaning you get visitors a lot?”
He grinned. “I’m a popular bloke, love. So, bed’s through there, loo’s over there, and everything else you can see.”
“It’s…nice.” Translation: dusty, cluttered, and slightly smelly.
He’d walked into the tiny kitchen to grab a beverage. “You’re welcome to crash after the gig.”
“You’re not gonna take me back?”
He laughed. “It’ll be late, Beth.”
“Oh.” If she knew, she’d at least grabbed a toothbrush. “You need to warn a girl ahead of time.”
“Spontaneity really isn’t in you, is it?”
“If you’re going to make fun of me, I can take a cab back to your mother’s.”
“I was teasing. Since when are you so defensive around me?”
Oh, since my hormones reminded me my crush never went away and he was even more gorgeous than I remembered. “Since when are you so nosy?”
He held up his hands, backing off. “Maybe some rest would be a good idea, after all.”
Feeling guilty, she turned away from him and walked to the window. “Sorry I snapped at you.”
“Already forgotten. Take my bed, hmm? We can catch up over dinner.”
She shook her head and sat on his futon. “I’m fine.”
He sat down next to her, legs sprawled. “Wanna play somethin’, then?”
She set her bag on the floor. “A video game?”
“Or cards. Whatever.”
“Tell me about your life here.” She folded her legs under her.
“Well, the music degree is harder than I thought it would be. I can play and sing, but they want a lot more than that. A bloody lot. The memorization fries my brain, then I kill my voice at another gig.” He shrugged a shoulder. “But that’s why I don’t care if it takes me five years to graduate.”
“If you hit the big time before then, will you still finish your degree?”
He tilted his head to one side, thinking. “I don’t know. It’d depend on how things are in that moment, I think. How much I had left, and how good the offer was.” He tapped her knee. “What about you? What are your big plans?”
“Well, I’ve declared as an art major, but my focus is photography, of course. I might have jumped the gun at accepting, though… I’m going to have to take some online courses at the same time in order to learn what I should.”
“Why’d you take UCLA if it’s not all you’re looking for?”
She sighed. “Because it’s close to home…and maybe because Dad was so proud I got in. He’s a big fan of the basketball team.”
“Bethie…”
“I know, I should’ve cut the apron strings. He doesn’t get that I don’t need to be protected anymore.” She ran a hand through her hair. “To him, I’m still a little girl. You know how I’m really here? He refused to let me go alone even though I offered to pay part of it, so I went to your mom and convinced her to bring me along. By the time he got back from his trip, tickets were bought and Mom had approved me going, so all he could do was grumble. He’ll probably be a bear when I get home.”
“Hell bent on seein’ me, huh?”
“You’re only an excuse. I’m really here for the fish ‘n’ chips,” she deadpanned.
“Why you—”
He attacked her with tickling fingers. His fingertips dug into her ribs and she almost jerked off the couch. She tried to scramble backward from his hands, but the metal armrest cut off her escape. He went for the soft flesh of her middle. She shrieked and tried to roll off the futon.
He wrapped his arm around her waist and hauled me back. “Not gettin’ away that easy. Now, admit you missed me and couldn’t live without my presence.”
“Puh-lease.”
He pressed his fingers into the most vulnerable spot of her abs. “Say it,” he sang. And tickled her.
“Gah! No more.”
“Say ‘Jacob Lindsey’s the best reason to come to London’.”
“I’m not— Aaaah! Okay, okay.” She glanced back at him. “Please stop.”
He grinned in triumph. “Give me what I want.”
Anything, her hormones said. This close to him, her back against his chest and the room hot from their war, she remembered how much she’d wanted him to kiss her for four years. Her face was close enough to his to do it, but she froze, knowing she couldn’t take it back if she made the move. They sat staring at each other for who knew how long.
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and finally looked away. “What time is it?”
She looked at her watch. “Almost one.”
He let go. “Hungry?”
“Thirsty.”
“Okay.” He stood and walked into the kitchen. “I’ve got soda, energy drinks, beer, and water.”
“Gee, how health conscious of you,” she teased. Her pulse still raced.
“S’posed to eat crap in college. I miss that place…the burger joint by the high school?”
“Tommy’s.”
“Right.” He rubbed his belly. “Heart attack wrapped in paper.”
“I’m so gonna out-live you.”
He tossed her a bottle of water. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
“Huh?”
“Most accidents happen in the home, Miss Homebody.” Back to the banter.
“Whatever.”
He grabbed a bag of “crisps” and turned on the TV with the remote left on the counter.
She’d never seen British television before. “What are you doing?”
“Checking the football score.”
“Summer’s not football season, Jacob.”
“Not American football!” He shuddered. So melodramatic.
“Oh, soccer.”
/> He muttered something that sounded like “bloody Yanks”.
She got up to use his bathroom.
Gross! Did he ever clean in here? She rinsed her hands—there wasn’t any soap visible—and shook them dry. Seriously, would it kill him to use some Comet or bleach in here once in a while? The shower had a ring of soap scum at the bottom, the toilet was no longer porcelain white, and the sink had shaving cream residue in the basin. The only remotely clean spot was the mirror.
“You are a pig,” she said when she walked out.
“Pig?”
“That bathroom is totally gross! They don’t clean themselves, you know.”
He shrugged. “I’ll get to it.”
Beth folded her arms over her chest and gave him The Look. “In the next millennium? You’re about to have old stuff growing new stuff.”
He turned back to the sports channel. “It’s not that bad.”
“Men.” She felt better, getting a second wind now that breakfast had digested some. “Come on. Play tour guide.”
“Thought you were tired?”
“Was. Now I’m not. Take me somewhere!”
“I have a gig tonight.”
“So? That’s hours from now. Please?” She rocked on her heels, wanting to get outside.
He didn’t move from the futon. “Need my energy for tonight, Beth. Not going to run you all over town.”
She stood in front of the TV, blocking his view. “Doesn’t have to be ‘all over town’. Just one place. Come on… I came all this way. Can’t you indulge me a little bit?” She could pout, too.
When he sighed and started shaking his head, she knew she’d won. He turned off the television, rose to his feet, and grabbed his keys.
“Forgetting the helmets?”
“We’re not takin’ the bike.”
“Oh.” Okay. An afternoon stroll was alright, she guessed.
People didn’t often think of it, but each city had its own smell. Downtown L.A. at night, for instance, smelled like urine. In London, she immediately felt she was someplace really old. The history was tangible, like the memories long-past were still floating down the streets. And oh-my-goodness English people talked fast! Someone passed her talking on their cell phone and the blur of sound made her brain say “what?”
Jacob had this odd smile on his face.
“What?” she asked. “Am I gawking?”
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