Discovering Us (True Love Trilogy)

by Harper Bentley

  I boldly took his hand in mine, lacing our fingers together, trying to reassure him as he’d done for me once. “You’re good, Jag. I’ll bet you could go pro any time you wanted.” I knocked my shoulder back into his. “It’s your destiny to be awesome. C’mon, with a name like Jagger Knox Jensen, you’re going places.”

  He snorted at that, still looking a little doubtful.

  I tried taking his mind off of his worries. “Look at it this way. One day when I’m a physical therapist or whatever, I’ll get to take care of your rickety, old body when your arm wears out from striking out everyone.”

  “You wanna take care of my body, huh?” he asked, squeezing my hand, looking over at me with a wicked gleam in his eyes, which totally left me flabbergasted.

  “I, uh, well, I… yeah,” I stammered then grimaced, not knowing what else to say. I bowed my head, embarrassed as could be, stirring the straw around in what was left of my float. When I looked up at him, a gasp left me at the sexier than hell look he sported, his half grin in full effect while he watched me, and all I could do was sit there and be stupefied. Heavy on the stup. At that crooked grin on his face, a shiver ran through me, which I’m sure he noticed, since his damned grin got even bigger.

  “So fucking cute,” he mumbled while shaking his head then he gave me a genuine smile and winked at me.

  Now, I’d read a lot of romance books, some I was sure that if Mom knew about they would’ve sent her on a cleaning frenzy for days trying to keep her mind off what her only daughter had been mentally digesting, but I never knew that what was written in those books was freaking real. At Jag’s wink, my insides did a flip-flop, my heart was pounding in my chest and I was so heated that I was tempted to pour the remainder of my float over my head to cool off.

  All this from a wink and a smile. Jeez.

  After that night, I finally got my bearings and decided to stop being an amateur. Jag was getting a kick out of keeping me off balance with his flirtatiousness. Well, two could play that game, right? It wasn’t like I’d never flirted before.

  A few days later, we sat in a booth at our little burger place, drinking root beer floats again. And here went nothing. While we were talking, I raised an eyebrow at him then picked up my glass to take a drink, planning to get some foam on my lip again then provocatively swipe my tongue over it to put Mr. Hot Stuff in his place. Good intentions and all that, right? So just as I tipped the glass, a huge glob of ice cream slammed into my lips causing me to gasp as the drink went into my mouth.

  So… if choking’s considered sexy, I nailed that bitch.

  But, sadly, it’s not, so there I sat, coughing my lungs up, sounding like a damned seal on steroids. The next thing I knew, Jag had gotten up coming to sit next to me then proceeded to pound me on the back with the force of a jackhammer asking if I was okay. Ugh. So much for my being the next Bond girl with all the sex appeal I exuded. I finally got over my fit, Jag went back to his seat, and we finished our floats amidst friendly chatter. Thank God he hadn’t realized what I’d been trying to do. That seduction shit was hard!

  Now, while hanging out with Jag was all well and good, I couldn’t help wondering why he wanted to spend time with me. God knew I’d crushed on him forever, so could it have been that my feelings were being reciprocated? I mean, who spends that much time with someone if there’s not an eensy-weensy bit of interest, right? He’d remained flirty but hadn’t tried anything with me, so I wasn’t sure what the deal was. Maybe he just missed the comfort of our friendship. I decided not to question it and just go with the flow. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, yeah?

  “Watch the ball, El!” Jag was pitching to me and I was batting. Oh, boy. We were at the high school field a couple weeks later on a Saturday when no one was there, just messing around and he was trying to show me some of the ins and outs of America’s favorite pastime. “Keep your eye on it then swing!” He did his wind up and sent a pitch my way.

  “Ahhh! Why can’t I hit it?” I shrieked, after I’d swung and missed. Again. For like the twentieth time. I stomped my foot like a spoiled brat. He was taking it way easy on me by throwing me tosses that a ten-year-old boy could hit, yet I couldn’t. Damn it.

  “Gotta keep your eye on the ball, babe.” He chuckled.

  “You’ve said that a million times! I’m keeping my eye on the ball and I keep missing! This sucks!” I was pissed now. I was a decent athlete and not being able to hit the damn ball was a blow to my ego. “Okay, hotshot, come with me,” I said, leaning the bat against the backstop then walking toward the track.

  Jag came jogging up behind me. “Gonna teach me to hurdle, huh?” He snorted.

  “Yep. It’s not as easy as it looks.” I gave him a dirty look out of the side of my eye.

  When we got to the track, I made him stretch with me so we wouldn’t pull any muscles then I said, “Jog a lap with me.”

  “Sure thing, Coach,” he said with another chuckle which got him another dirty look.

  He kept up easily with me and when we got back to where we’d started, I took him into the hurdle lanes. “Okay, let’s race.”

  “El, do you really think this is fair?”

  Well, that was nice of him. He thought that since I ran the hurdles I’d probably beat him. “Oh, I think you’ll be able to keep up with me a little.” I was in a standing hamstring stretch, my legs crossed at the ankles as I bent at my waist, hanging my hands down to touch my toes. His burst of laughter made me look up at him from the side. “What?”

  “You think I’ll have a hard time keeping up with you?” he asked with a sneer.

  I slowly stood back up to glare at him. Was he serious? “Oh, it’s on, Jensen.”

  “Show me the way, Love,” he said with a snicker.

  I put him in a lane at the starting line then took my lane two places over. “Okay, when I say ‘Go!’ take off,” I said. “If you think you can keep up.” I gave him a smirk of my own. I’d just won the last two track meets in the 100-meter hurdles, so I was pretty sure I had this in the bag, because even if he was faster, I’d still win with technique. “Ready?” He nodded back with that smug grin. Jerk. I got in my stance as if I had a starting block. “On your mark… get set… go!” I shouted and took off.

  Now, when I raced, I was focused and in the zone. All I saw was ten hurdles in front of me until I got to the finish line. But this time, I was hyperaware of Jag, and as I reached the seventh hurdle, I sensed that I was alone. As in seriously alone. No other sound but my own breathing alone. I stopped before the eighth hurdle and turned around to see him sprawled out on the track between the fourth and fifth hurdles.

  “Jag!” I ran back to check if he was okay. When I got to him, he was face down on the track and cussing up a storm. “You okay?” I asked, biting on my lips so I wouldn’t laugh at him.

  “Fuck!” he yelled as he turned over.

  Oh, this was too funny. “Do I, uh, need to call nine-waah-waah? Do you need a waahmbulance?” I snorted, looking down at him.

  He glared at me from where he lay then knifed up quickly and grabbed my hand pulling me down on top of him.

  “Hey!” I shrieked with a laugh.

  And it was at that time that he grabbed my face firmly in his hands, pulling my face to his and soundly pressing his lips to mine.

  Remember the Beauty and the Beast sparkles and fireworks? Yep. Totally happened. It was amazing.

  He pulled back from me with a heated look, his eyes going all dark navy on me, then he smiled, probably at the stunned look on my face, before turning us over to where he was on top of me then he came back in to dazzle me again. His lips were so soft yet demanding on mine and the kiss was so heated and making me so damned hot that I knew I was probably melting the rubber track beneath me. Dear God it felt wonderful. My hands went up to knot in his dark hair as I pulled him closer, not able to get enough of him.

  I’d never been kissed before, well, unless you counted our first kiss when I was five and he was seven, but d
id that stop me? Hell no. I wanted, no, needed this contact with him, and boy, did I go for broke. This time his tongue edged out and softly touched my bottom lip, and when I opened my mouth in a gasp, he slid it inside, finding my own, to tangle lightly with it. Wow.

  Best. First. Kiss. Ever.

  When we finally came up for air, my head was spinning, both of us breathing heavily, and I couldn’t help the sappy grin I wore.

  “Wow,” I whispered.

  “Yeah, wow,” he answered back, pulling away and looking down at me confused.

  “Best first kiss ever,” I mumbled breathlessly, looking up into his eyes in a haze.

  The confusion left his face as if he’d been waiting to hear that he was my first and a proud grin replaced it. Guys. Jeez.

  After that day, I only brought up the fact that I’d beaten him in hurdles a time or two… or ten. But that memory was way overshadowed by the fact that it was also the day of my first kiss. Of our first kiss. And I’d never forget it as long as I lived.

  “Hey, beautiful,” Jag said when he drove up in the parking lot a couple days later. “You ready?”

  My face instantly flushed at his endearment and especially so when the boys hanging around whistled and made sounds of approval at it. Ugh. An inner construction worker must be hidden inside all males.

  “Hey, handsome,” I replied shyly after getting in the car. God. My face got so hot you could’ve fried a damn egg on it at what I thought was pretty brazen behavior on my part.

  Jag looked over and grinned at me, his straight white teeth in his tanned face making him look like an Abercrombie & Fitch model. Lord, the guy was just hotter than freaking hot.

  While driving we talked about the usual things, how practice had gone and how school was that day before an unusual silence hit. After we’d hit a stoplight, Jag finally broke it when we got the green.

  “Gotta question, uh, for you,” he said as he shifted gears. Was he nervous? Hm.

  “Question? Yes, Jag, Bigfoot is real.” I snorted at the look on his face.

  “Ellen.” He raised an eyebrow, looking over and giving me a gimlet eye.

  “Jagger,” I said, mocking his look.

  “I need to ask you a serious question, El,” he replied with a sigh, looking back at the road.

  Oh, crap. The sober look on his face worried me. And when I glanced out the window behind him, I saw that we were heading home and not to one of the hangouts. This must be serious. Yikes.

  “Um, okay. Go ahead.” Dang it. I could feel the sweat forming on my brow. God, was he going to ask if it was okay if I started driving myself to school again? Was he tired of me? I felt my stomach clench up. I knew it’d been too good to be true. Seriously, why the hell would a senior want to spend time with a sophomore anyway? An inexperienced sophomore at that. I’d always known the other shoe would drop on this thing we had going on. And damn it if tears didn’t start welling in my eyes.

  We pulled into my driveway and he turned off the engine. I sat facing forward like a statue, focusing on trying to breathe normally. Oh, and blinking my eyes rapidly a couple times to make sure the tears didn’t fall. Shit! He probably thought I was having some kind of fricking seizure now. Guess that was better than his knowing he was about to break my heart. Again.

  For a few seconds he messed with his key ring that I’d given him a few weeks before that hung from the ignition switch. It held a picture that my mom had taken of us when Jag and I were little. In the photo, I was crying because I’d dropped my ice cream cone and Jag was holding his out for me to have. How friggin’ sweet was that? He stared at the picture for a few more seconds then looked over at me, throwing his right arm over the back of my seat. I guess it was then that he saw me struggling to keep from crying.

  “Hey,” he said, his left hand moving to my chin, turning my face toward his.

  I didn’t want to look at him. If he was going to tell me this was over, whatever this was, I’d rather not have to look in those beautiful blue eyes of his, so I closed my own as a stupid tear rolled down my face.

  And here’s what was going through my head as we sat there: just give it to me fast, Jag. Bam! Drop that hammer and let me get out of the car so I can go cry in the safety of my own room. Do it! Quick! Stop drawing things out, damn it!

  But when he didn’t say anything, my curiosity got the better of me and I peeked at him with one eye. One eye! Dear God. I’m sure I looked like an idiot with my face all scrunched up trying to see what was going on.

  His mouth twitched as one side of it drew up in a half smirk. Really? What was so funny about this?

  “What’s so funny about this?” I snapped opening both of my eyes as the anger finally hit me and I pushed his hand off my chin. Just end it already! Jeez.

  “Well, you kinda looked like Popeye there for a sec.” He barked out a laugh.

  Yeah, this was just hilarious. He was going to tell me that we’d no longer be spending time together and he was getting a big heehaw out of it. Nice.

  “Did not!” I huffed out, pissed. Well, good thing was, at least I no longer had the urge to cry.

  “Yeah, you did.” He snorted as he reached out and wiped my stray tear away with his thumb. “Hey, what’s this all about?” He then frowned getting serious again.

  I huffed out a sigh and closed my eyes again seeking some courage. Then a fantastic idea hit me. I’d be the one to break things off so that my amount of hurt would be less than if he did it. And that idea? Freaking brilliant!

  I sniffed before taking a deep breath then stared straight ahead. “Well, you know, Jag, this has been fun, hanging out and all.”

  I heard him shift in his seat, so I chanced a look at him out of the side of my eye. Oh, boy. I had his full attention now. His arm was still over the back of my seat but I could feel, yes feel, the tension that immediately hung in the air and also that he’d now moved a smidgen away from me. I looked down at my hands in my lap, my fingers tangling nervously. And then stupid me ventured forward. “But I’m really getting behind on some things, so I thought it’d probably be for the best that I start driving myself to school now.”

  He was quiet for so long, I didn’t know what to do. Twiddling my thumbs came to mind but I nixed that dumb idea right away. When I finally looked at him, he was looking at me through narrowed eyes as if trying to figure me out.

  “Did you now?” he said, his question sounding dangerous. Yikes.

  Did I now? Did I now, what?

  “Um, did I now, what?” I asked like a nitwit.

  “You thought it’d be for the best…” And the look on his face. Dang. Did he want to strangle me? Kiss me? Both of those ideas were too unnerving to even think about right then.

  I decided to stay the course I’d been on, stay strong, still trying to cover myself, not willing to be left brokenhearted by him again. No, I’d just break my own damned heart instead. “Yes, you’re probably getting tired of me anyway, right?”I asked feebly. So much for staying strong.

  I looked at him again and those eyes of his were cutting through me like a knife. I swore sparks were flying from them.

  “You think I’m tired of you?”

  I pushed that one piece of hair that always escaped my ponytail behind my ear nervously, looking back at the windshield as I chewed on my bottom lip. God, this was so intense. I wasn’t sure what to do, what to think. All I wanted was for him to get this over with so I could go inside my house, grab a pint of Chocolate Therapy and a spoon, and go to my room to cry my eyes out over losing him again.

  “Aren’t you?” I whispered.

  I mean, come on. Here was Jag Jensen, baseball player extraordinaire, the guy every girl in school was in love with, sitting here with me, plain old Ellen Love, bookworm to boot and somewhat decent trackster. What could he want with me?

  He burst out laughing again and I looked at him in shock. Now what was so funny?

  “How could I ever be tired of you, El? You and these cuter than hell freckles?” He
then dotted several of them on my nose with his finger to my horror.

  I swiped away his hand. “Stop that!” I said with a scowl, but he kept right on poking at my nose. Ugh! “Jag, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep your finger away from my fucking nose!”

  This only made him laugh more and, of course, keep on jabbing at them. I put my hands up, trying to block his, but then I couldn’t help but laugh along with him. The jerk.

  “Quit! I’m gonna punch your lights out if you don’t stop!” I yelled through my giggles.

  Then he grabbed my face and kissed me. Hard. And I loved it. God, I’d never get tired of kissing him. My hands went up to either side of his face, keeping him as close to me as possible as our kiss burned hotter than hot.

  “So,” he said breathlessly as he pulled away and smoothed that ridiculous piece of hair behind my ear again.

  “So,” I replied dreamily but just as out of breath, putting my head back against the seat and closing my eyes.

  I heard him chuckle. Then he paused before stating, “The, uh, question I was going to ask you…”

  I sat up stiffly and turned toward him. Damn! I’d forgotten about the stupid question. My heart started pounding in my chest again as I remembered that he was probably going to tell me he wouldn’t be picking me up anymore, didn’t want to spend time with me anymore.

  He’d moved back fully into his seat and was looking out his side window so he didn’t see the panic in my eyes. He turned back toward the front then started fiddling with the gearshift, probably trying to think of a way to let me down easy, not wanting to feel too bad that he was going to kick me to the curb after kissing me like that. Great.

  “Well, what I wanted to know was…” He paused as he became really interested in something on the gear knob.

  Good God! Spit it out already! End my misery now!