by J. A. Little
Peeling my work clothes off, I step into the water just as my phone rings. It echoes through the bathroom, startling me, and I snatch it up. Dean. My heart speeds up exponentially. I let it ring again before answering.
“Hello?”
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“What are you doing?”
I sit down on the edge of the tub and touch the water with my fingertips to gauge the temperature. “Getting ready to take a bath and relax.”
“Oh, uh, do you want me to let you go?” he asks.
“No. It’s okay. I can talk to you while soaking.” I hope I’m giving him a good visual. By the way his voice tenses, I think it’s working. I step into the water, and I swear I hear him moan. “Dean?”
“Yeah, I’m here. How was your day?”
“Um, busy. Incredibly, horrifyingly busy.” I chuckle. “How was yours?”
“Yeah. Long. I meant to call you last night.”
“Oh. Uh, that’s okay. Andy, Sara, and I had dinner and just chilled out. I was tired so I went to bed kinda early.”
“Why were you so tired?”
My grin cannot be contained. “I have no idea, Dean. It was the oddest thing. I felt like I’d been fucked up one side and down the other.”
“Wow.” He whistles. “I felt the same way last night. Weird.”
I giggle. “So what’s up?”
“Nothin’. I’m sitting in my office being bored.”
“Nothing to do? Poor baby,” I tease.
“Plenty to do. I just don’t want to do it. I was hoping you could distract me.”
“Haven’t you had enough?” I ask, echoing his question from yesterday morning.
“Never enough, sweetheart. Never enough. Talk to me.”
“You want it dirty or regular?”
“Ha! That’s a silly question.”
I love the banter. He’s being playful tonight. I was worried that things would get weird, and they still might, but right now, this is working.
“Are you naked?”
“I’m in the bath, Dean. What do you think?”
“That’s not dirty talk.”
“Sorry, let me try that again.” I clear my throat and take a deep breath. “Yes, baby, I’m naked and wet, just for you.” I’m trying to make my voice sound sultry. I have no idea if it’s working.
“Wait. Is this Kayla Brooks or 1-900-Play-With-Me?”
“Call that number often, do you? You told me to talk dirty, and now you’re telling me I sound like a phone-sex operator. Thanks.”
“I’m sorry. Keep going.”
“No.”
“Please?”
“No!”
“Fine.”
“Is that a real number?”
Dean laughs loudly. “I have no idea, but it sounds good, doesn’t it? Are you going to come see the boys this week?”
“And that’s one way to kill the mood. Yes. Wednesday is Logan’s last IL session.”
“Really? His last?”
“Yep.”
“Huh.”
“Are you gonna be around?” I ask hopefully.
“Yeah, I’ll be here. Finish your bath. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Good night, Dean.” I hang up and set my phone on the floor. Relaxing is much easier tonight. When I get out of the tub, I stare at Dean’s shirt, contemplating how pathetic it would be to wear it again. Not that pathetic, I decide.
* * *
“You’re done, kiddo!”
“I’m not a kid.”
“You are for another month.”
Logan frowns. “So that’s it?”
“Yeah. Unless you have other things you want to go over. You have your license, bank account, and cellphone. We’ve gone over basic needs and care, housing, finances, education, and social issues. How do you feel? Do you feel ready?”
“Does it matter?” he mumbles, his head hanging.
I put my hand on his forearm gently. “It does to me. What’s the matter with you?”
“Nothin’.”
“You’re acting weird.”
Logan shrugs. “I got a lot on my mind.”
“Like what?” He doesn’t answer right away, but picks at his fingernails. “Are they gonna kick me out next month?”
“What? No.”
“But I’m turning eighteen. I mean, I can go if I want, right?”
“Logan,” I sigh. “Maybe we should sit down with Dean and Aiden to talk about things.”
“I don’t need to. I just want to know what’s gonna happen.”
“I’m not discharging you from care until you’re ready. You can stay until your nineteenth birthday.”
Logan looks at me like I’m crazy. “But if I want to go?”
“Legally, you’ll be an adult. You can make your own decisions.”
He lowers his head and nods. Something is definitely going on with him. “Will you help me find a place to live?”
“When you’re ready to be discharged, we’ll all help, okay? But you need to graduate first. You’ve filled out the application forms that your guidance counselor gave you and turned them in, yes?”
“Yeah, she helped me with those, but I think it’s too late.”
“It’s never too late. You know people who know people.” I dip my head so that he can see me and smile. What I see breaks my heart. His eyes are glassy and a couple of tears are streaming down his cheeks. He doesn’t even bother to wipe them away. “Sweetie, what’s the matter?”
“I’m not ready.” He sniffs.
“Okay. Look. This isn’t something that’s going to be sudden, okay?”
“I know.”
“We’ve got time. I’ll talk to Dean. We’ll all sit down and make a plan. Relax.”
He nods. I look up and see Dean leaning against the wall, his legs crossed in front of him, his arms folded against his chest. He’s got his knit cap on, and his jaw is scruffy. I glance back down at the man-boy in front of me and put my hand under his chin so that he looks at me.
“I’m not going to leave you, Logan. You’ll be okay.”
“Promise?”
“Yeah. I promise.”
Logan notices Dean standing across the room and wipes his face. “I got homework to do,” he mumbles. Dean pats him on the back as he’s walking out. When he’s gone, I stand up.
“Hi.” I smile.
“Hi.”
“Can I talk to you for a minute?”
Dean nods slowly and motions for me to go in front of him. When we get to his office he shuts the door behind us. I lean against the edge of his desk and curl my finger to bring him closer.
“Kayla,” he sighs, shaking his head. “We can’t. Not here.”
“I’m not asking you to fuck me on your desk, Dean. Although…” I pat it with my hand. “I think it could handle us.” I’m trying to get a rise out of him, but he doesn’t appear to be in the mood. His ups and downs are going to do a number on my blood pressure. “Relax. I’m kidding.” I frown.
“What was that all about?” he asks, not looking at me.
“Logan? I don’t know. Has he been acting weird?”
“I’m not sure I’ve really known him long enough to determine what’s weird for him. He’s quieter than usual the last couple of days.”
“He’s scared.”
“Probably. Most of them have a moment or two before they go.”
“We need to help him make a plan,” I sigh. “Look at apartments, work out a budget.”
“Isn’t that what you’ve been doing?”
“Yes,” I answer. “Sort of. I’ve been teaching him how to do it, but we need numbers. He can’t leave until he has a permanent job that will help him afford everything.”
“I’ll talk to Santiago,” Dean offers. “He likes Logan and I don’t think he’d mind having him full-time once he graduates.”
“No, Logan needs to talk to him. That’s what I’m saying. He’s got to learn to do these things for himself. I th
ink he’ll do just fine once he knows what he’s supposed to do.”
“Okay. Let’s set a meeting, then.” He takes a step toward me, but then hesitates, a look of conflict on his face.
I roll my eyes at his indecision. This is what we have to work through. I don’t want him to feel like he has to embrace me at his place of work. It’s no big deal. I sling my purse over my shoulder. “I’ll see you later.”
As I’m walking past him, his hand suddenly snaps out, grabbing me and pulling me to him. His forehead is against mine, his mouth ghosting over my lips.
“Tomorrow? I’ve got the night off.”
“Okay.”
“I really want to fucking kiss you.”
“Then do. I won’t tell anyone,” I promise.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself if I start.”
Grabbing the back of his head, I hold him to me and kiss him hard.
“Fuck control,” he growls.
Chapter 39
Kayla
“Okay, honey. I had two reasons for asking you to come tonight.” My stepmother and I are sitting on the couch in the living room. “First, your dad and I were cleaning out the loft last weekend and we came across some things that belonged to your Grandma Brooks.”
“Really?”
I was really close to Grandma Brooks when I was little. She lived in New Mexico, and we’d fly down to see her every summer. Visits were less frequent after my parents got divorced, and then she died during the winter I was fifteen. My mom and Richard decided that there was no way I could miss school to attend the funeral. My father was furious, but he didn’t have the time or energy to fight with my mother. He had to fly down to Santa Fe to finalize the arrangements, and I was left behind. I was heartbroken and decided to get as drunk as humanly possible on two bottles of Richard’s really expensive wine just to piss them off. It worked, but also left me with a raging headache the next day, so I ended up angry, depressed, hungover, and grounded.
“Yes. Your dad just kind of shoved everything into ‘keep’ and ‘donate’ boxes when she passed. The ‘keep’ boxes went straight up there, and we never touched them.” She pulls out a little cream-colored box. “Your dad wants you to have this.”
Opening the box, I find a beautiful sapphire princess-cut ring surrounded by small diamonds.
“Holy…crackers!” I gulp.
“Brian said he thinks it was passed down to Grandma Brooks by her mother and that she always intended to pass it on to you, but you were too young.”
“I remember her wearing it.” I take the ring out of its box and slip it onto my right hand ring finger. It fits perfectly. “Thank you.” I smile.
“There are a few other things, but maybe you can go through them some other time. So here’s the other thing.” Reaching down, she pulls up an ice-blue leather-bound binder. “This is for Claire for her birthday.”
I open it carefully. “Oh, Karen. I think she’ll love it.”
“Really?”
“Yes, absolutely.”
“I figured she’s going into her last year of high school, maybe she’ll want to have something to remember it. All she has to do is add the pictures.”
I flip through the pages of the scrapbook that my stepmother has so painstakingly put together for my little sister.
“Where do you find the time?”
“I’m old, Kayla.” She laughs. “I don’t have a little one around anymore. I don’t have grandchildren. I need an outlet.”
“You’re not old,” I scoff. “What about the restaurant? I thought cooking was your outlet.”
Karen smiles. “It still is, but it’s also my job. I needed something else. It’s actually quite therapeutic.” Closing the cover, I take a sip of wine. “How’s your friend?” she asks.
I look at her questioningly.
“Dean, sweetie. How’s Dean?”
“Oh. He’s good,” I laugh.
“I saw that picture of you two in the paper.” I roll my eyes. If I had a dollar for every person who has mentioned that to me in the last few days, I could probably pay off my car. “I showed your father, too.”
“Oh, great. What’d he have to say?”
“He said you looked beautiful and so grown up.” Karen pats my knee. “I still remember the day you moved in with us.”
“Oh, God. Don’t remind me,” I groan.
“You were so…”
“Wild? Nuts? Mean?”
“Lost.” I nod my head in agreement and take another sip of wine. “I wanted so badly to reach out to you.”
“You did, Karen. I wasn’t in a place where I was willing to listen.”
“I should have tried harder,” she sighs. “But, enough of the ‘shoulda’s. I just want you to know how much I love you.” Karen’s arm wraps around my shoulders. She’s completely unaware that I’m about to lose it. She didn’t have to love me. I was a royal bitch to her for the first five years of their marriage. But she did. She does.
“I love you, too.”
* * *
I look in the mirror—again. I fix my hair. I wonder if I’ve put on too much makeup, or maybe not enough. I look at what I’m wearing: a dark-red wrap sweater dress, black leggings, and black knee-high boots.
Dean and I are going out for drinks. I’m trying to figure out what my outfit says. It’s something I would usually wear to go out with no second thoughts, but now I can’t help wondering if it says, “We’re friends, no pressure,” or “Fuck me silly and swear to love me forever.” My feelings lie somewhere in the middle. I want the ease of our friendship, but I really, really want him take me to bed at the end of the night.
I hear his car pull into the driveway, and my heart speeds up. After I answer the door, I don’t even get a chance to say hello before his mouth is attached to mine, his hands on either side of my face, holding me in place. I love his tongue.
“Uh, hi,” I gasp.
“Sorry. I’ve been thinking about that all day.”
“Just all day?” I step back and admire him. Dark jeans, blue shirt, black hoodie. “To what do I owe the pleasure of a freshly shaven Dean Wyatt?” I tease.
He shrugs, offering me a cheeky grin, but not an answer.
“You might want to get your coat. It’s cold outside.”
Once we’re in the car, Dean starts the engine. His hand hovers over the gearshift, but hesitates.
“What’s the matter?”
“Uh, okay, there’s this band playing at a pub I like to go to. My friend Lance owns it, but there’s this girl who works there.”
“A hook-up?” I ask, a little on edge.
“No! Fuck, no. But she wants to be. She can be a real bitch, Kayla. I don’t want to put you in a bad position. There’s another bar I was thinking about, but they don’t have any music.”
“Dean?” I say, the edginess disappearing and amusement replacing it. I’m not going to let some little tart chase us off.
“Huh?”
“Do you remember the very first time we were out together? At the restaurant where that guy Brody trapped me in the corner?”
Dean’s jaw clenches. “Yeah.”
“I kinda still owe you. If she tries anything, I’ll protect you.”
His lips twitch. “You will?”
“I promise,” I purr.
He asks me if I’m sure several times before we pull into the parking lot of Hudson’s. I’ve heard of this place, but never been here. It’s crowded and crazy. He keeps his hand on me. Usually on my hip, but sometimes it slips. I like it when it slips.
We find ourselves at the end of the bar. There’s standing space, but no stools.
“Lance!” Dean yells right beside my ear. I wince and pull away.
“Hey, man. How you been?” They slap hands in the way guys do. Lance’s eyes shift to me.
“Dude, this is my friend, Kayla.”
I’m beginning to hate that word.
“You look like a nice friend to have.” Lance winks. I
blush. Dean clears his throat.
“Lance is a buddy from way back. I stayed with him and his wife for awhile. How’s Tina doing with the pregnancy?”
Lance laughs. So do I. Dean’s not being very subtle. I like that he’s a little jealous.
“She’s great. Just found out it’s a boy. What can I get for you guys?”
“Chairs?” Dean asks.
“Oh, yeah. Hold up.” Lance disappears for a second into a back hallway and comes out with two stools. “Now what to drink?”
“Usual.” Dean nods.
“Jack and Coke, please.”
Lance comes back quickly, setting our drinks in front of us. “You know I’m fully staffed tonight, right?” he says to Dean.
“Yeah. So does Kayla,” Dean says, taking a drink.
“You told her about…”
“His admirer? Yes, he did. I’m a big girl. I’m sure I can handle her.”
“Is it wrong that I’d love to see that?” Lance asks.
“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” Dean challenges.
Lance throws one of those cardboard coasters at him and walks away laughing.
“He’s the one you stayed with after you got out of jail?” I ask.
“Yeah. He was a friend of Aiden’s in high school. He and his wife helped me drag my ass back up off the ground.”
I look at Lance. He’s talking to some customers, pouring drafts, mixing drinks. I find myself feeling grateful toward this man I’ve just met.
“So, who’s playing tonight?” I ask, crossing my legs. I feel Dean’s hand slide over my thigh, and he leans in, his breath hot on my ear.
“They’re called Dirty Rebel Rejects. It’s a mix of alternative rock and blues.”
We sit drinking, talking, and laughing for a good half hour before I start to feel uncomfortable, like there are eyes on me. Glancing around, I see a blond chick staring at us. I know immediately who she is.
“What’s the matter?” Dean asks, noticing that my attention has been diverted. I don’t even have to answer—she’s walking over.
“Hey, Dean.” She smiles, completely ignoring me. Dean looks like he just got a jury duty notification.
“What’s up, Jodi?” he says flatly. The girl leans over the counter, flaunting her fake boobs. They are way too big for her body type.