by Dean, Ali
I skate to the edge of the rink, hit the restrooms, and grab a drink at the water fountain. I’m considering skating over to a bench for a break when I feel a hand at my hip. Turning around, I find Beck right behind me.
“Come on, we should talk,” he says, grabbing my hand and pulling me along before I can decide if this is a good idea. It’s probably a terrible one, but I’m too curious, too eager to hear what he has to say, to put a stop to it.
He takes us down a hallway and around a corner. Beck opens a door and looks back at me. “This is the only place around here with some privacy,” he explains with a shrug, before tugging my hand so I roll in behind him.
“We’re in a storage room,” I observe as I glance around the dimly-lit space. It’s the size of a walk-in closet. A large one, but still.
Beck rubs his chin, looking a little sheepish. “I wanted you alone.”
“Why?”
“Because I heard what Lucy said about Griffin kissing you tonight, and that’s not going to happen.”
“I figured that much out myself, Beck.” I try really hard to act like I’m not dying with embarrassment that he overheard that. I can’t decide if it’s better than hearing about it from Griffin or worse.
There’s only a foot of space between us but he hasn’t dropped my hand. “Are you going to tell me what that was all about?”
“Why would I tell you that?”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
There’s a beat of silence as we look at each other. It’s a standoff, and I pull my hand away, bracing myself on a shelf behind me. “You know, you seemed awfully concerned about my age, but you’re the one acting juvenile here.”
Beck doesn’t seem the least bit put off by my bitchy attitude, which is a relief since I don’t really understand where it’s coming from myself. I don’t usually have an attitude; I’m not one of those people who likes to challenge others just for the fun of it. Insulting people isn’t my style, but something inside me says not to give in. Not to go along with it.
He’s giving me a sideways smile now. “I want to know how you managed to wiggle your way into my life after I tried to walk away before that could happen.”
“Wiggle my way into your life? You think I set all this up just so I could end up in this storage closet with you, on roller skates no less?”
“Well, did you?”
“You didn’t come off as arrogant when we first met, Beck, why are you acting that way now?”
“It’s not arrogance, Jordan. I’m trying to figure this out. You didn’t come across as a schemer when I met you either, but then both my roommates are caught up with you, my sister and Summer won’t stop talking about you, and I have to wonder, have you been trying to get my attention?”
I want to be that girl who slaps Beck and then storms out of here. But I’m not done yet. And besides, storming out on roller skates wouldn’t be smooth.
“Did you ever think maybe I’m the one who’s suspicious right now? One of your roommates is the one who posted the video. Griffin is the one who approached me, not the other way around. And how could I say no when he invited me to go skateboarding with him? That would be stupid. Your sisters just happened to be at the park we went to.”
“Fate then, I knew it.” His eyes light up, like this is the point he was planning to make all along. “But it doesn’t explain tonight, does it?”
“Oh, the kiss?” I’m fired up now, and before I know it, I’m blurting it all out. “I needed some kissing experience and Griffin was the perfect candidate. He still would be if you hadn’t complicated things.”
His eyes flash. “The perfect candidate?”
“Yes. He’s super hot, and was very straightforward about his intentions. Neither of us wanted more, and I needed the experience, so it made it simple.” I shrug, like this is all no big deal. Like I make arrangements with hot celebrities all the time.
Beck’s jaw ticking is the only indication he’s affected by any of this. “So, you already hooked up with Griffin?” Okay, the tone of his voice is a dead giveaway too. It sends chills up my spine.
“What? No. That’s the point. I only wanted to kiss, not, you know, other stuff. And I felt comfortable telling him that.” I don’t know why, but that part’s true. Griffin and Beck have both been strangely easy for me to talk to, to open up with, only in very different ways.
“So you already kissed him?” Beck has a strange expression, kind of pissed off like that day on the quad, but also amused at the same time.
“No, we were supposed to tonight.”
Beck lets out a ragged breath, and it’s suddenly way too hot in here. The only sound is our heavy breathing.
Beck finally mutters, “I can’t believe you asked Griffin for kissing experience.”
“I can’t believe he agreed.”
“You should have asked me.”
Even though I might have dreamt last night about Beck saying just those words, I find myself shoving him in the chest. “You definitely wouldn’t have agreed. You were horrified when you found out I lived in the freshman dorms.”
“I wasn’t horrified,” he protests. “But I am a lot older. It didn’t feel right continuing to flirt with you.”
“Oh, and now it’s okay? Because your best friend did already?”
“Yes,” he growls.
My jaw drops. “Seriously?”
“I was a little shocked when I realized you were only two years older than Naomi. But now it’s more like three. And I’ve gotten over the shock.”
“Now it’s more like three? Have you been drinking?”
“Being in this tiny room with you is making it a little hard to breathe. I’m not getting enough oxygen.”
“Then we should leave.”
His hand darts out then, wrapping around my back and bringing me flush against him. “I don’t want you to miss out on kissing practice. That wouldn’t be right. It’s your birthday.”
I don’t want to miss out either. I’m also not thinking very clearly. Maybe I’m not getting oxygen either. His body is hard against mine, and I can feel him everywhere. It makes me squirm in his arms. My eyes can’t stop staring at his lips. I wonder what they taste like. Our breathing mingles and sends heat down my spine, pooling in my lower belly. Some reflex has me arching my hips, seeking a little friction. My jeans rub softly along his thigh and it’s not enough.
“Jordan?” His voice is hoarse.
“Yeah?”
“Can I kiss you now?”
I don’t answer with words. Leaning forward, I brush my lips along his. Then I instantly panic. If Beckett Steele is a bad kisser I don’t know if I’ll ever kiss anyone ever again. My head snaps back.
Beckett doesn’t loosen his grip. “Come here, Jordan. Let me show you.” I can’t deny him when he beckons me like that. I lean forward, and he closes the gap. He doesn’t even open his mouth at first, but just the feel of his lips on my own sends a round of vibrating pleasure straight to my toes.
He doesn’t mash his mouth across mine like my first kiss years ago. Instead, he’s slow and intentional, making the ache in my belly build agonizingly slowly. I find myself wanting to beg him to just devour me already and the irony hardly registers. His tongue swipes out, and I copy the movement. The hands on my waist hold me steady, but my hips seem to have a mind of their own. They keep rocking with each new sensation that arrives as he intensifies the kiss. I’m far from satisfied, but he’s already pulling his mouth away. His lips don’t leave my body though, they travel down my neck, his tongue following, and then along my collarbone. I’m riding his leg now, unable to stop myself from seeking some relief. My body is overheated, and the pleasure is too intense, but not enough.
Beck is breathing hard when he lifts his head to look me in the eyes. “Has anyone touched you before, Jordan?” he asks.
“Touched me?” I’m panting as I seek clarification.
His hand moves from my back, and the entire palm reaches between my legs, cupping me.
My cheeks flame. Can he feel how hot and wet I am? I don’t think I’m ready for this. I want it, badly, but not here, not now. Not when my head is spinning.
“No,” I answer his question.
His hand moves away.
He leans down, but only to kiss me on the cheek. “We should get back, Jordan.”
I blink. It takes a second for his words to register, for the fog to clear. It’s like a bucket of ice when it does, and I realize my right leg is hoisted around his thigh, and my hands are digging into his shoulders. My eyes drop in embarrassment as I pry myself off of him.
Beck puts a finger under my chin and lifts it until I’m looking at him. “Hey, don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Don’t be embarrassed. I’m not. But I can’t keep kissing you and keep my hands off you, Jordan.”
His hands are now at his own waist as he adjusts himself, and it’s then I notice I wasn’t the only one worked up.
I take a deep breath and nod. “Thanks for the practice.” I can hear him laughing softly as I finally open the door and skate away on shaky legs.
* * *
Beck
I’ve lost my damn mind. I’m standing in a supply closet alone with a painfully hard boner that’s showing no signs of going away. And I’m in roller skates. My hand pulls at my lower lip as I shake my head and laugh to myself. I’m twenty-five years old, and I brought a girl I’m crushing on to the place I worked in high school. Yep. I’ve definitely lost my damn mind.
I can’t do this. I walked away from Jordan a week ago and that had been the right thing to do. I’m hoping to get through this semester with a heavy course load, something that’s going to take nearly all my time. The rest of it will be spent helping Griff launch his business, and handling my own sponsorship obligations. I might not be competing this semester, but I still intend to spend hours every week on a board. There’s no way in hell I have time for anything but a fling. And Jordan Slattery is absolutely not that. She’s the kind of girl who deserves all the time, and all the commitment, before I lay a finger on her.
Too late for that, Steele.
I did stop myself though. That was far from easy. What the hell am I supposed to do about this girl now? I know what I should do, but each time I’m around her it gets harder to do the right thing.
Chapter Twenty
Jordan
Even though we were out past midnight, I wake up early on Sunday morning, ready to skateboard. I want to try one of the other skateparks I’ve scoped out, but I find myself hopping on my board and riding through the sidewalks on campus instead. No one’s up, and all I’m really looking forward to right now is some speed. I don’t want to bother with figuring out the bus schedule and waiting to get there. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself. I know I’m also looking for simplicity, avoiding complications. And every time I’ve been in a park since I landed in California, it’s led to complications.
Riding fast through the desolate campus isn’t enough to get my mind off Beck and that kiss. There was so much more that happened last night, between Griffin seemingly passing me off to his friend, to partying with a new group of people, and the way Beck dropped us off afterward at our dorm, like he was a bus driver and we were the kids. It's all too much to process so I just keep going back to the storage room.
Everything about it makes my skin heat. His lips on mine, on my neck, his firm thigh between my legs, his hand cupping me, the bulge in his pants. I can’t believe I thought about doing that with anyone but Beck. I wouldn’t have, I don’t think. It would have been a tiny little kiss with Griff or anyone else. I probably wouldn’t even remember it this morning. Instead, I am obsessing. It was on my mind from the second my eyes snapped open in bed. I’d probably been dreaming about it, if the vibrations pulsing through me when I woke up were any indication.
My stomach is growling, and I make my way to the only cafeteria on campus that opens before eight on weekends.
I go for the safest option – cereal and milk with a banana – since that’s pretty hard to screw up. The place is empty and I’m headed to a table by the window when I hear my name called. Spinning around, I find a guy who looks familiar walking toward me with a tray. I can’t quite place him.
“Hey, you’re up early. How much later did you all stay at Stargaze?”
“Stargaze?”
“The roller skating rink.”
“Ohhhh,” I drawl out, finally placing him. “You’re wearing a hat. I didn’t recognize you.” He introduced himself and wished me happy birthday last night, but we didn’t exactly talk. There were a lot of new faces and I was too distracted by Beck to remember many other details about last night.
He pulls the hat off and places it on the tray. He’s tan and cute, and I wonder if I’d be interested in him if I wasn’t so preoccupied with someone else.
We sit down across from each other at a table by the window, and he reminds me of his name. “I’m Davis. I’m a senior with Taylor, so I saw the video of you landing a 540.”
I’m grateful he’s giving me some context. “Oh yeah, the video,” I reply unenthusiastically.
Davis eyes me. “You were pissed about that? You aren’t the one who gave him that bruise on his face, are you?”
I laugh. “No, but I saw that last night. I wasn’t pissed, not really. It’s always good to get some buzz for girls skateboarding, even if it’s at my expense.”
Davis tells me he’s a surfer but he skateboards occasionally too. He didn’t stay for long last night because the waves were great this morning.
“You’ve already been out?” I ask, impressed.
“Yeah, I was up at four. I’m going to try to get my homework done after I eat so I can crash this afternoon. If I go back to bed now I’ll never want to do it.”
“My roommate and friends love to surf too but I don’t think they’re hardcore enough to get up at four for good waves.”
“Oh yeah, we met them last night. Cool chicks.”
Davis and I talk easily as we eat, discussing the lack of edible options at the cafeteria, but the convenience and free factor keeps us coming back. When we head out, he asks if I’m up early to study.
“No, I should be doing homework this morning too but I think I’m going to a skatepark instead,” I admit. I’m hesitant to find out who I’ll run into, but the itch to ride a vert is getting too strong to ignore. I know the nurse said to wait at least a month after the concussion, but my headaches are gone and the bruise is mostly healed. It’s too hard to wait, and I’m ready to explore the area.
Davis looks like he wants to ask a question so I wait. “You go by yourself?”
I’m not sure what he’s getting at but I answer honestly. “Sometimes I like to go alone, yeah. Not all the time, but definitely this morning.”
He nods, like he understands. “I get that. I was the only one of my friends on the waves this morning. I’ll see you around, Jordan.”
I wave as I skate toward the bus stop. Once I’m there, I pull out my phone. I want to smack myself when I realize what I’m doing. Just when I’d stopped compulsively checking for calls from Beck, I’m back to it again. But it’s not Beck who’s left messages. It’s Griffin.
“Meet today to talk Brazen?”
Nothing about the birthday present in the line of texts from the night before. Nothing about Beck. I let out a breath of air. That’s good.
I don’t know what he wants from me exactly, but at least he’s making it clear it’s about Brazen.
I tell him I’ll be free later this afternoon, and then I wait for the bus. The park I’m headed to is a half hour away, in the opposite direction from Riptide and a little farther than the one Griffin took me to on Thursday.
I settle in on the back of the bus, and with the only other passenger sitting way up front, call my parents to pass the time.
I’ve spoken to them every day since I got here, but I’m already feeling the distance between us. It’s more than physical. I
’ve told them about Lucy, Ellie and Zora. We’ve talked a lot about classes, and I even told them I’ve spent my free time at skateparks, which they knew was coming. But I didn’t tell them about the crash last Sunday, about meeting two of my skateboarding idols, or asking one of them to kiss me and then kissing the other one instead. Or the video. Definitely not the video. That would probably cause them the most stress of any of it, knowing my parents.
They’ve just returned from church, and they update me on the town happenings before asking how the rest of my birthday was.
“Remember how I said I promised Lucy I’d go to a party with her?”
They’re each on one of the lines on our home phone, and answer at the same time.
“How could we forget, Jo Jo?”
“It was Lucy’s birthday too, wasn’t it?”
“Yes. I was a little skeptical about the party but we ran into some other friends on the way there and ended up going roller skating instead. It was really fun.”
Silence.
“Mom? Dad?”
“You went roller skating?” Mom asks. “I didn’t know people still did that.”
“Was it at a roller skating rink?” Dad sounds confused.
“Yes. A roller skating rink. Just like the ice skating rink at home, only with roller skates.” My parents put me in ice skating lessons when I was seven. I wasn’t very interested, but their friends’ daughter was doing it and I think they were hoping I’d ditch my skateboarding obsession for a more organized sport. It’d been fine, but I hadn’t loved it. I remember Dad telling me not to settle for “fine,” especially if there was something else I was already in love with. They stopped trying to get me to do other activities after that. It wasn’t that they didn’t approve of me skateboarding, but it wasn’t like other sports, with a coach and scheduled practices, meets, or games.