My brows pull together as I squint at the man sitting across from me. I’ll be damned, he blames himself for Thomas’ poor choices. He actually cares for this kid...a kid that’s not even his. “You do know that this isn’t your fault...right?” I ask. “You’re not the one that needs to apologize to me, it’s Thomas that does.”
“Oh, he will, and that’s a promise.”
“Well, when he can give a sincere apology, I’ll be all ears.”
There’s an awkward silence between Jett and me. It’s long and drawn out, and I’m not sure if I should drop my eyes or continue to keep my eyes level with his. It’s a bit uncomfortable. I’m starting to sweat, to tell ya the truth.
“Up for a drink?” Jett blurts out.
I sit frozen, unresponsive for what seems like forever, until he cowers back into his seat. He’s the first one to break eye contact, visibly sulking and reading my body language that my silence is an infinitive no. “I’m sorry, I told you before, I won’t get tangled up with a student’s parent.” Oh God, I said tangled...but of course that’s what I want to do. I want to get tangled between his muscular arms and his strong thighs. I want him to manhandle me. I want...
“You did mention that, but that was when you had my son in your classroom.” His voice drops low. “But he’s no longer your student. And I do believe we’ve already had an informal sit down at a bar.”
I drop my hands to my lap and begin twiddling my fingers. Fucking shit. He got me. I’m about to accuse him of planning his whole little speech, agreeing that Thomas should no longer be in my class all in the hopes of getting in my pants, but it’s as if he’s reading my mind.
“Sorry. I realize that sounded a little pushy. I…I just...there’s an attraction thing going on between us,” he says, waving his hand between us. “Tell me you feel it, too, otherwise I’m going to look like a real idiot right now.”
Should I agree? Do I deny, deny, deny? I have two options, and I’m not sure which the right choice is. If I agree, then I’m admitting that I am capable of true emotions, and that scares the piss right outta me, let alone the fact that I’m allowing a cop, of all people, to get close to me. That’s a huge leap of faith to trust in my own ability to separate my deepest secret from what the rest of the world sees. If I deny and attempt to convince myself that the fluttering in my belly is that of last night’s carne asada burrito, I’m allowing myself to miss out on somewhat of a real life. If a real life is even possible.
Shudder.
You know, one of the hardest things for someone like myself—an obsessive compulsive type—we can’t make a decision to save our life. I hem and haw for far too long, making him anxiously wait for my answer. I must say that I’m equally as shocked when my mouth speaks on behalf of my heart rather than my brain. “Well, it looks like you’ll be buying me a drink.”
Chapter 19
Gray
My first thought when I pull into the driveway and see Andi’s car is that she’s fucking my brother. What? I shouldn’t think that way? Well, I can’t help it. Andi does have a reputation. But I don’t find them naked or even sucking face. Nope, I find them both at my kitchen table with the newspaper and my laptop in front of them. While Andi circles job postings, Blue looks up the position online.
“What’s going on?” I ask curiously, hanging my purse and keys on the hooks on the wall.
Andi looks up with a large smile. “I’m helping Blue here find a job.” She winks.
My lips press together and my head dips in a nod. “And?”
Blue keeps his eyes on the screen of the laptop when he chimes in, “I have a few leads. Even applied for a couple of them online.”
“That’s great,” I say. Walking further into the kitchen, I snatch a teacup from the neatly lined cupboard and set it on the counter, then proceed to make myself some hot water. “Tea?” They both answer with a no. “So, how long have you been here, Andi?”
Clearly, Andi knows my school schedule, and it’s not like her to show up unannounced...even on her days off. Granted, I ran longer today because of the meeting with Jett and Mr. Baker, but still...something’s off.
“About an hour, maybe a little longer. I haven’t seen you in a while and wanted to...touch base. I was going to just wait in the driveway, but when I saw Blue walk past the window, I figured you wouldn’t mind if I came in.”
Tossing my tea bag in the trash, I scoop the hot cup between my palms and bring it to my lips, lightly blowing the steaming liquid before taking a sip. “Let’s go talk outside,” I say to Andi. I don’t wait for her. Instead, I head out to the patio and sink into the lounge chair. It’s a beautiful September day in Kansas. The humidity has died down, and there’s a slight breeze in the air. Before long, the orange and red leaves will be falling to the ground. It’s my favorite time of year...fall. The colors are changing and the promise of powdery snow is hidden in the night’s chill.
Andi takes the chair across from me and crosses her legs at the knees. “I’m pretty sure that I did everything correctly, but I just wanted to suggest you go out to the compound before our next...get-together, whenever that might be.”
She says get-together as if she should be tossing up air quotes to go with her hushed tone. I can tell she’s as anxious about getting back to our routine as I am. I take another sip of my tea before I ask, “You drove all the way over here to tell me something that you could have just texted me?”
“Well, sure, I could’ve texted you, but I did kind of want to meet your brother. I mean, shit, I’ve never met him. I was curious.”
I roll my eyes, knowing exactly what she means by curious. “You mean you wanted to find out if he was fuckable and if he’s of the same mindset that I am,” I say matter-of-factly. It’s not a question because I already know Andi’s response.
And she doesn’t deny it either. “Of course. Ah, you know me so well.” Her head rolls on her shoulders, stretching, before she continues. “When the fuck are we getting back out there? I’m chompin’ at the bit right now.”
“I know, but I can’t really do my thing when I have Blue staying with me. He’ll start to question my whereabouts if I stay out all weekend.”
“Then why don’t you just tell him you’re going out with the girls and won’t be back until late? We’ll meet at the bar, kidnap one of the motherfuckers on your list, and take ‘em out to the compound for a quick romp-n-kill.”
“Romp-n-kill?” I repeat with a chuckle. “If it was only that easy. I know the moment I tell Blue that I’m going out with my friends, he’ll want to go. And that ain’t happening. But...” I stop short. I should slap myself silly for even thinking of this, but it may be our only way to slip out from under Blue’s radar without him asking any questions. And he won’t want to go if I tell him it’s a date. All I need to do is figure out a way to kill two birds with one stone.
“But. But what? For Chrissakes, don’t just stop at but and then not finish!” Andi snaps.
“What I was going to say is, I was asked out by Jett Roman today.” I watch Andi’s eyes grow a bit wider and her smile spread further across her lips. She nods her head, encouraging me to go on. “Maybe I can call Jett and tell him he can pay up on that drink he promised me. And possibly bring his friends.”
Andi shoots up in her seat, clapping her hands together. “That is a splendid idea! What the fuck are you waiting for? Call the guy.”
I set my teacup on the side table next to me and reach into my back pocket, pulling out my phone. I don’t need to look up to know that Andi’s scowling at me. “Shut up,” I snap. Look, talking on the phone is like plucking each and every individual hair out of my skull. It’s torturous and slightly painful, and I hate it. They created text messaging solely for people like me who cringe at the thought of answering a call and having to be forced into an idled conversation with whomever is on the other end. I’m not fond of endless chatter. Say what you need to say and hang the fuck up. But no, people don’t want to get to the point, they w
ant to drag out an hour long bitch fest. No thank you.
I ignore Andi’s huff and continue to work the pads of my fingers on the screen of my phone, sending Jett a simple text.
Drinks, tonight. Ten o’clock at Humphrey’s...bring your friends.
Not even a full minute goes by before my phone dings in my hand with Jett’s responding text. I should feel elated...relieved even. Here I just get done saying how I like things simple and to the point, yet Jett’s one-word response leaves me aching for more. I’m not sure what else I want him to text, but maybe a, “Sounds great. Can’t wait to see you. Of course I’ll bring my equally ridiculously good-looking friends to shack up with your friends,” might sound a bit more inviting then—Done. Whatevs, I’m going to shake off whatever this odd feeling is in my chest and text Jaz.
Get your ass to Humphrey’s by ten, biatch.
Shoving my phone back in my pocket, I wink at Andi. “Looks like we got ourselves a date.”
* * *
It wasn’t all that hard to pull one over on Blue. The first roll of date off my tongue and he threw his hands up in the air. Of course I can’t just tell him I have a date, but rather try to make him uncomfortable with my innuendos. “Going out on a date tonight, Blue. No need to wait up, I won’t be back until late...if at all, if ya get my drift.” I wiggle my brows at him with a playful wink. “I might crash at his house so we can get a little...”
“Ew, stop. I don’t need to know what you do with your free time,” he balks.
And just like that, I’m locking the door behind me and hightailing it to Andi’s house. I honk the horn when I pull into her driveway, but she’s already got one foot into my car. “Are we a wee bit eager this evening?” I tease.
She jabs her finger against the row of buttons on my radio until she finds a song she’s happy with, rather than my Mozart, then buckles herself in with a giggle. “I’m so excited! My girl is finally going on her first real date. And besides, I’m startin’ to feel like Jaz. Dried up.”
I glance over my shoulder, my brows twisting in wonder. “What? You do realize that I’ve been on dates before, right?”
Andi reaches around her neck and pulls her hair to one side so it cascades down her right shoulder. “Yeah, I know. But, Gray, this is the date. Those other guys were only Band-Aids that covered the hole in your soul. They merely acted as the pawns in your faux chess game...arm candy to make it appear you had more than just a heart of stone. Jett, he’s the real deal. I know you don’t want to admit it, but he’s your missing puzzle piece. He’s the glue that will hold it all together.” Her eyes wander down the length of my body then back up to my face. “What the fuck are you wearing?”
“What the fuck are you saying?” I shake my head, trying to clear my ears of the garbage that she’s rambling on about. “Were you watching Oprah again? Or are you drunk?” I lean closer to Andi’s mouth and take in a whiff. “You’ve been drinking.”
“Only one. And don’t change the subject.”
My lips purse together as I glare at her with accusing eyes.
“Oh for cryin’ out loud. One six pack...you happy?”
“No. Don’t make a fool of yourself tonight, uh? We don’t need to be tossing up red flags because you and Jaz can’t keep your pussies covered. I know you, Andi. One beer to loosen you up turns into a night of drunkenness. You know the rules...don’t get shitfaced. We can’t afford to make any mistakes, and when you’re inebriated, not only do you start mumbling analogies that make no sense whatsoever, but you start to get sloppy. You’re on water for the rest of the night,” I order.
Andi’s lip curls up in a snarl as she folds her arms across her chest. “You can be such a nincompoop sometimes, you know that?”
“The way I see it, I’m the voice of fucking reason around here.” As I pull out of her driveway and put the car in drive, I take a look down at what I’m wearing. “What’s wrong with what I have on?” I ask.
“Ha!” Andi laughs. “You look like a goddamn school teacher. Don’t you have anything sexy? Something that reeks, ‘I want to get laid,’ not, ‘You can never break the chains of my Chasity belt?’”
I sulk in my seat and pout. “I am a school teacher.”
“Doesn’t mean you always need to dress like one.”
“I don’t!” I argue. “Look, I’m not slim and fit like you and Jaz are. I have curves and I’m a little on the thicker side. No one wants to see rolls hanging out. I strive for modesty.”
“You strive for boring,” Andi fires back. “You have curves in all the right places, but no one is ever blessed with the voluptuous physique that you have because you cover yourself up with potato sacks. And switching between grandma floral-patterned, knee-length, A-line skirts with cardigans to jeans and a t-shirt is not having style. Shit, at least buy yourself a pencil skirt and a fitted white button-up blouse.”
Well, I guess she put me in my place. She’s right, though. I have no style, and quite honestly, don’t really care about how I look. I suppose I use my clothes as another way to keep my true identity hidden. Between the hours of seven and four, you’ll find me in a skirt and cardigan or simple pants and a shirt, while on weekends, I roll around in comfort—jeans and a tee. It’s very rare that I curl my shoulder-length hair, and I hardly wear more than foundation and blush on my face. But you know what? That’s who I am. Simple. No frills. That’s how I’m comfortable, so all I have to defend myself with is, “Shut up.”
I swear I never feel self-conscious, but leave it to Andi to ruffle my feathers enough to make me want to bury my head under my cardigan when I see Jett sitting at a table across the bar.
Holy hell.
Clearly, Jaz got my message, as she’s at the table sitting next to Cole with her arm tucked through his, resting her hand on his forearm. She’s awfully cozied up to him already...but hey, no judgement here. I stay back, letting Andi go ahead while I take in Jett’s beauty. Yeah, I know, guys are typically not called beautiful or pretty. We tend to lean toward the descriptions that are more masculine and rough. But this guy is gorgeous, and I could stare at him until the end of time. I really don’t think it would get old waking up to his face every day. I can imagine the texture of his smooth skin under my fingertips as I run my hand along his strong jawline. If I close my eyes and concentrate, I can almost feel what it would be like to have his full, plump lips kissing mine.
I have my hand clasping the top of my cardigan, cinching it tight against my chest. Maybe that’s why I’m having a hard time breathing. That or the fact that Jett just saw me and his lips curve up in a wide smile, damn near knocking me off my feet. He excuses himself from the table and begins to walk toward me. I don’t know why my feet won’t budge. I should be running out the door, screaming like my hair is on fire, but I don’t. I can’t. This is such a bad idea, me...Jett...a cop. My perfectly imperfect world is beginning to spin off its axis, and all that I control seems to be slipping through my fingers.
I need air.
Just as Jett approaches, I spin around and bolt out the door, gulping in lungfuls of deep breaths. The chill in the air is a welcoming burn in my chest, but it doesn’t last long when Jett grabs my elbow and turns me toward him. He leans down close to my face, inspecting me. “You all right?” he asks. He has both of his hands firmly holding me up by my arms, staring deep into my eyes.
I nod, but in all reality, I’m shaken...nervous. Anxious. I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t stray from my routine. It will only bring pain and grief, and this might be the only time that I actually don’t want it to be from my very hands.
Jett’s palms are rubbing warmth into my arms as he shivers. He doesn’t have on a jacket, only a short-sleeved gray t-shirt that shows off two half-sleeve tattoos. “Why don’t we go inside and grab that drink? It’s a tad chilly out here.”
Again, I nod, not finding the right words to say. I’m not sure how hard it would be to acknowledge with a simple “okay,” or maybe even a, “sure,” but apparently my t
ongue isn’t working at the moment. And so I follow Jett back into the bar and sit in the seat he has pulled out for me. I give a grim smile at everyone who’s staring at me and shoot back the shot of Patrón that Jett sets down in front of me. I wince a little when the liquid burns the back of my throat, but I get it down, slamming the empty glass on the table.
“All right then,” Jett says with a chuckle. “I call another round of shots.”
Everyone hoots and hollers as Jett waves his hand in the air, calling out to the waitress for another round. When he takes his seat next to me, Jett’s arm brushes against mine. I have to admit that I’m disappointed that my long-sleeved cardigan doesn’t allow skin on skin contact, and without thinking twice, I slip free from the barrier that’s keeping me from rubbing up against his warm flesh. I swing the cardigan behind me and rest it on the back of the chair and reposition myself in the seat, catching Andi smirking at me from across the table. I challenge her with my wide eyes, daring her to say something, but instead she opts for the shot of tequila. Before she can gulp it down, I lift my butt, lean across the table, and snatch it from her hands.
She’s about to protest, but I shoot back the shot, glaring at her from over the rim of the glass. She’s aware of the order I gave her in the car about not drinking anymore tonight. She doesn’t like it, but she redirects her hand to the water that’s off to the side then turns her body into Drew.
The side of my face is warm with flush from the constant set of eyes that haven’t turned away since my third shot. While everyone else is mingling, Jett’s staring at me. And even though I look at him with a smile from time to time, I pretty much keep my head down. This is so awkward. I’m awkward. And in social settings, I have no clue on the proper way to act. It should be easy by now, it’s second nature for me to use my goody-two-shoes teacher act as a mirage. But now...now all I am is a fly under a microscope with a table full of eyeballs that, I swear, are peeling back each layer the longer I sit here.
What Lies Beneath The Flowerbed Page 13