I'll Say Anything

by Danielle Bourdon

  Yeah? Did Ramsey tell you that?

  I sat straight up in bed, eyes wide, staring at the phone. What was I supposed to say to that? I scrambled for an answer. The Finley of three weeks ago would have texted back some ribald remark or another.

  You can tell by the long line of men knocking down our door to date me.

  The long pause between texts told me that my reply had hit Jasper's funny bone. He was too busy laughing to type. There had never been any long line of men and, in fact, I chased away more suitors than was believable. My phone went off, chiming in with another text from Jasper.

  Almost home.

  So you -are-texting and driving. Don't make me hurt you. That's against the rules.

  Not driving. See you in a few.

  If he wasn't driving, then how was he getting home? Walking? Taxi? I got out of bed, sliding the phone to the nightstand. Padding from the bedroom to the living room, I dug a knee into the cushion of a loveseat and parted the sheers to look out at the street. If anyone was dropping Jasper off, he'd tell them to idle at the curb right outside.

  Less than five minutes later, a sleek, red car cruised to a stop next to the sidewalk. Jasper got out of the passenger's side, walked around the nose of the car, and leaned in through the driver's window once it rolled down. I saw a glimpse of tanned skin, red lips and a feminine profile. Jasper planted a kiss on the woman's mouth, tipped back a few inches to say something, then leaned in again for another, more intimate kiss.

  All at once, I surged backward, letting the curtain fall closed. I knew Jasper dated women, sometimes even entered relationships. That wasn't news. He was a guy, he liked interaction with the opposite sex, and certainly didn't hold back when he saw something he wanted. Why I felt the need to forget the woman in the red car confused me. Maybe it was the intimacy of the action. Or maybe I was still too sensitive after last night.

  Retracing my steps, I went into the bedroom and flopped on the bed. Reaching over, I snapped off the light. Every other night, I left it on so he wouldn't walk into things.

  The apartment door opened and closed. A bag crinkled. Jasper's footsteps came closer, his boots thudding on the thin carpet.

  “I can't see a damn thing,” Jasper said.

  “You should know this place by heart. Feel your way through.”

  Suddenly, a bag landed on my stomach and Jasper's hands groped my legs, climbing to my very ticklish knees, which he paused to assault.

  “Stop!” I laughed. Although I wore his pajama bottoms, the tickling was effective. He also knew it was one of the more ticklish spots on my body and used the knowledge against me.

  “What? I can't hear you. I can't see either, you know, so I have to feel my way.”

  Swatting at his hands, the laugh turning into a giggle, I drew my legs up and tilted over onto my side. Trying to get out of reach. “Jasper! I can't breathe.”

  The bedside lamp blinked on. Jasper ran his hands through his now disheveled hair, looking triumphant and superior.

  When I glanced back, relieved that he'd ceased his attack, my gaze landed right on the vague smears of red lipstick staining his mouth, jaw and throat. All the humor evaporated in an instant. I refused to ask if the girl in the red car was his newest girlfriend, which was a deviation from the norm. With a jostle of candy, I set the bag of Boston Baked Beans on the nightstand.

  “What's wrong?” he said with a frown.

  “Nothing.”

  “You're frowning.”

  “No I'm not.”

  “Yes you are--”

  “I need a hundred bucks till payday.” Since I had no access to the stash, that meant I was dead broke until Friday or whenever I worked next for tips. Paying the electric bill had wiped me clean.

  Jasper reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a small fold of bills. He peeled off five twenties and set them on the nightstand.

  “Good night at work?” Clearly, considering all the money.

  “Not bad. Could be better. Some of these are small bills.” He refolded the cash and stuffed it back into his pocket. “Be right back.”

  Watching Jasper as he left the room, I rolled onto my back once more and exhaled. What the hell was wrong with me? Last night, that's what. You thought you lost him.

  “Yeah,” I said to myself. “That's what it is.”

  Ten minutes later, Jasper reappeared, attired in a worn pair of blue plaid pajamas, and bounced the bed especially hard when he climbed over me.

  I gave his shoulder a faint push, then rolled away to my other side, facing away. Once I felt the mattress settle, I turned the lamp off, dousing the room into darkness.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Finally tired.”

  “Night, Fins.”

  “Night, Jasper.”

  It was hours later before I could quiet my mind enough to sleep.

  *

  The hot drag of Jasper's mouth cruised up my throat, pausing over my pulse to nip the skin. Hissing in pleasure, I arched beneath him. He was between my thighs, such a perfect fit, with one hand bunching up the tee shirt I wore. His tee shirt. The pajama pants were gone, stripped away to reveal the bare length of my legs. Leg's he'd kissed on his way to my neck. Dragging my nails down his naked back to encourage the grind of his pelvis, he rewarded me with firm pressure, letting me feel his hard length. Not inside, not yet, but soon.

  I'd waited so long.

  The wind caught my hair, blowing it away from my face, momentarily distracting me from the squeeze Jasper put on my breast. As he flicked the taut nipple, sending a spike of fresh lust through my body, I turned my head to the side to see the cause of the wind.

  There were no windows in our bedroom.

  Instead of walls, a vast valley opened up on both sides with a beautiful sparkling river snaking through a gorge hundreds of feet below. We were suspended above this moonlit vista on a narrow ledge, jutting out into the open with no safety net to catch us if we fell.

  Jasper would never let me fall.

  He covered my mouth with his and it was the most exquisite thing. More exquisite than the view, which he drew me away from. I kissed him as I'd wanted to kiss him all along, with tangling tongues and an exchange of hot breath. Under my palms, the sleek muscles of his back flexed as he deepened the kiss, bringing an urgency I answered by exploring the recesses of his mouth with bolder strokes. He groaned, and I groaned with him.

  “I'm gonna make you mine, Fins. Finally. Are you ready?” he said into my mouth.

  “I've been ready all my life.”

  “Tell me again. Tell me what you know I want to hear.”

  “I love you. I love you so much.”

  “That's my girl. I love you, too,” Jasper said, positioning his hips just so.

  He speared himself into me, driving deep, taking me in one possessive thrust. I hooked one leg over the back of his thigh and curled my fingers into his hair, moving with him, against him, finding all the ways that made him groan my name. He knew how to make me groan his name, too. It was a slow assault, as if he wanted to drag out every second, sliding deep and withdrawing only to push forward again.

  The wind picked up, brushing across my skin. Under my back, the ledge felt less secure, less stable. Instead of a solid formation it became like air, causing me to lash an arm out to grab onto something stable. We were going to fall.

  “Shh, I've got you,” Jasper said, thrusting again.

  “No, the ledge is gone. It's gone, there's nothing under my back...”

  “I won't let you fall, Fins. Haven't I always been there to catch you?”

  “Yes, but...”

  “Don't worry.”

  Our bodies separated an inch. I clasped onto his back with both hands, gasping at the sudden sensation of floating, of flying, of having Jasper still thrusting between my legs.

  “Jasper,” I said, clinging to him with my arms.

  “That's my Finley. Hold on tight.”

  “I'm falling. I'm falling, and y
ou're not.” Another inch separated our bodies, and another, until I plummeted straight down while Jasper hovered above, reaching out for me with a shout.

  He couldn't reach me.

  I was falling.

  I was falling toward the snaking river, hair whipping around my head, a scream building in my throat.

  Falling, and falling, and falling...

  “Finley, wake up!”

  I hit the floor with a thud. Jerking awake, having landed on my side, I reached out for the first thing I could find to hold on to. Vertigo had me in its grip. I could still feel the lash of the wind, the adrenaline from the long fall.

  “What the hell is the matter with you?” Jasper leaned over the edge of the bed, staring down at me with a frown. His hair was sleep mussed, one eye twitching while he tried to come all the way awake himself.

  “I'm fall--” The words stuck in my throat when I remembered the rest of the dream. It came back in a rush, bringing heat to my cheeks. I scrambled to get off the floor, disoriented and off balance.

  “You're gonna fall over. Here, let me help--”

  “I got it, Jasper. Just a dream, that's all. I was falling.” And that much was the truth. After a glimpse of his boxer covered hips, I left the bedroom on wobbly feet. Dreams were such strange things. I'd never envisioned Jasper and I in any kind of sexual scenario before. Why now? And what was the fall all about?

  In the cramped bathroom, I turned on the light and twisted the spigot until water gushed from the faucet. Cupping handfuls of water, I splashed my face three times.

  “All right, you're twitching me out. What's going on?” Jasper asked.

  I didn't look back. Bracing my hands on the edges of the sink, I stared down at the drain, willing away the images from the dream. “Nothing.”

  “Did you have a dream about the morgue?”

  It would have been so easy to lie. Just one word, and a plea to be left alone. But honesty with Jasper was something I prided my friendship with him on, so I tried a different tack. I went with scathing cynicism and snark because that's what the usual Finley would do.

  “I had a dream we were having sex, that's what, and it was so awful that I fell off a cliff or something to get away from you.” The dead silence behind me let me know that I'd shocked Jasper with my blunt answer. If the circumstances had been different, I might have laughed. I imagined his face with wide eyes and slack jaw. It was certainly better than imagining the way his body had moved over and within mine.

  “Cecilia wasn't complaining last night,” Jasper finally retorted. “It can't be that bad.”

  As Jasper moved away from the bathroom door and wandered elsewhere, I hung my head and exhaled. Jasper's reply wasn't out of the ordinary. It went right along with our sometimes lewd conversations. Yet today it bothered me. It got under my skin. Cecilia was the woman in the sleek red car. Jasper's newest conquest. Probably someone from his work or maybe even a guest that had found his good looks appealing enough to pursue.

  “You want pancakes for breakfast?” Jasper called from the kitchen.

  “No thanks. I have to go in early.” Not until later in the afternoon, actually, but I wanted time to put this odd event behind me. I showered, changed, and donned tennis shoes. Slouched on a loveseat, one leg casually draped over the arm, Jasper had a plate of food in front of him when I stepped out of the bedroom.

  “You want me to drive you?” he asked when he glanced up. The next bite went into his mouth quicker as he started to drag his legs off the armrest.

  “No, that's okay. I'll see you later.”

  “What about after work? What time do you get off?”

  At the apartment door, I glanced back. Jasper was just then forking another bite past his lips. “Not until after midnight. I'll find a way home, no worries.”

  “I get off at twelve-thirty. If you wait a half hour, I'll pick you up.”

  “That's all right. I'll meet you here.” Before Jasper could say anything else, I escaped the confines of the apartment. Drawing in a deep breath of hot, dry air, I struck out for the boulevard. Instead of taking the back streets, I decided to walk the strip to work. Arms crossed over my chest, I surveyed the town I now called home. People milled along the sidewalk, some happy, others quiet and contemplative.

  I was one of the latter.

  It was just a dream, I argued with myself. Everyone had awkward dreams sometimes. In the grand scheme of things, a dream like that had probably been inevitable considering how close Jasper and I were.

  What about Ramsey? The question wasn't easy to answer. Turning him away in his bedroom, right when I thought I was about to get what I wanted, meant something. Maybe it just meant I didn't want him as much as I originally thought.

  That wasn't right. In the beginning, I'd wanted him more than I'd wanted anyone in a long time. Ramsey wasn't my type—and just what is your type? For weeks I'd thought the same thing. That Ramsey and I belonged to two different worlds. He was too refined, too cultured for a girl like me.

  Previous one night stands consisted of mutual attraction, equal desire, and a willingness to part ways without drama. Many of the men had been decent looking guys, none close to the classical handsomeness I associated with Ramsey. It wasn't just his good looks, I decided. It was the whole package. Considerate, compassionate, kind...all of those described him.

  So why was I dreaming about sex with Jasper? Why had I backed out at the last second with Ramsey? The questions kept me busy until I let myself in through the employee entrance at Olympus.

  And what about the dead man with Jasper's ID?

  I discarded the entire topic, refusing to consider possible scenarios. There was every chance I might not like the conclusions I came to.

  Chapter Thirteen

  A crack of thunder greeted me as I departed Olympus three nights later. Glancing up, I watched lightning streak through the overcast sky. The strong scent of rain promised an imminent cloudburst, of which the first few droplets hit the shoulders of my tee shirt several seconds later.

  In a routine the last few days of walking to and from work, I knew I could count on arriving home soaked to the skin.

  No matter. I wouldn't melt from a little water.

  I hadn't gone fifty feet across the parking lot when a hand on my shoulder spun me around. Immediately I used the momentum to throw a punch, ready to defend myself against a possible robber. Ever since I was a small girl, Jasper had schooled me in self defense. It wasn't a neat or pretty punch, but it would get the job done. Maybe buy me a second to throw another or run, depending how serious I thought the situation was. No match for an experienced knife fighter, I'd chose to run every time.

  Screaming wasn't in my nature. At best, I might shout for help.

  Adrian caught my wrist as if he'd expected the reaction. Dressed in dark colors, he blended with the night.

  “Watch it,” Adrian snarled, throwing my wrist away from his face.

  “Don't creep up on people, then. You get what you deserve in this town. You should know better.” I didn't hesitate to lay into Adrian. Boss or not, I wasn't about to cower and whimper.

  He threw his palms up, face pulled into a frown. “I tried to get your attention, but apparently you didn't hear me.”

  I'd been quite distracted the last few days, but I refused to go easy on Adrian. “What do you want?”

  “Hey, I thought I might help you out. Let you in on a snippet of information that came my way. But if you want to be like that--”

  “No, I'm not whoring myself out to any of your customers. No, I don't want a topless job. No,” I said with no small amount of sarcasm, “I don't want to work my way up the ranks by spending time on my knees. I'll leave those dubious pleasures to the showgirls.” I wasn't sure when my mood turned black, but it did, and Adrian was the scapegoat I chose to unleash upon.

  “You know, you can be a real bitch sometimes, Finley.”

  “You're no jewel either, Adrian. If I remember right, you wanted me to flash my b
oobs at you the last time we were in each other's company. No thanks.” As the sprinkles turned into a deluge, I turned away. It was a long walk home, in questionable weather, and I didn't want to be heckled.

  “When Jasper winds up like the guy in the alley, don't go crying to Ramsey.”

  I stopped dead in my tracks and spun to face Adrian, who had started walking toward the employee door. Incredulity and suspicion vied for dominance as I tried to decipher exactly what that meant. Had Adrian been responsible for the dead man?

  “Wait just a minute. What does that mean?” I said, stalking in Adrian's wake. Rain pounded the pavement, turning the lights of the strip at the end of the parking lot into a blur of color.

  Adrian didn't answer. He didn't even glance back.

  “Adrian!” That time, I raised my voice. Catching up before he got too close to the door, I stepped around in front of him to halt his forward progress.

  He stared down at me with an insolent, stubborn expression.

  “What did that mean? What do you know?”

  “I know that Jasper's in a lot of trouble, that's what. The man in the alley? That was a message. Jasper knows what it means.”

  I searched Adrian's eyes, looking for signs he was lying. Nothing he said made sense, yet a niggling discomfort settled in my stomach. “I don't understand.”

  “Maybe if you'd been less standoffish, I might have been more inclined to help you out.” He moved to step around me.

  I blocked his way again. “Look. You're no paragon of virtue. Don't even pretend to be. You've been nothing but nasty to me this whole time. What did you expect?”

  Adrian stroked the edge of his teeth with his tongue. Rain dripped off his eyelashes and made the ends of his hair curl. “There's a loan shark in town. One of the real nasty types. His name is Parker Brooks.”

  The familiar name brought to mind the men in the sedan who'd stopped by the apartment that day. The uneasy feeling in my stomach increased. “All right. What about him?”

  “Jasper owes him money. I don't know how much or anything, only that he does, and Mister Brooks will do to Jasper what he did to that man in the alley if Jasper doesn't pay up. That's what I was going to tell you.”