by Ann Everett
“Let’s get back to you. How many more bad luck phobias do you have?”
“You’re not going to drop this are you?”
“No.”
“Okay. Don’t open an umbrella in the house. Never tell a bad dream before breakfast. Never step over a grave. There, are you happy now, Mr. Lucky Underwear?”
He reached over and playfully yanked a lock of her hair. “You know what? You’re a lot of fun.”
~~*~~
An hour later, Jace filed past Sam to sit in the adjoining seat. “Man, front row. I guess it pays to know a member of the company.”
“Yeah, according to the program, Maggie and her partner perform first,” his mom said.
Jace leaned back as the lights dimmed and the announcer introduced them.
The pair stepped onto the floor holding hands. Marc towered over her by a foot. A slow song began and he lifted her over his head with ease and spun. She twined around his body until her feet reached the floor again. Jace shifted in his seat and gripped the arms of his chair. Their chemistry was undeniable; everything in sync. Marc and Maggie even sounded like a couple. The song ended with their faces close, lips almost touching.
Jace fisted his hands. Marc was a surprise. She’d described him as big and strong, but failed to mention he resembled a Greek god.
A familiar voice interrupted Jace’s thoughts.
“Hey,” Jared said.
His mom moved down a seat and Jared sat in the one next to his brother.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Jace asked.
“Dad couldn’t come, so Mom gave me his ticket. Why? Is there a rule saying I can’t come to see Maggie dance?”
“You missed her.”
“No, I watched from the door. She was beautiful, wasn’t she?”
Jace started to answer, when his mom leaned over. “Shh—you two stop talking, they’re about to start again.”
Sarah and her partner appeared, flitting across the floor in a quickstep.
As other couples performed, Jace couldn’t keep his mind on their routines thinking instead of how Marc touched Maggie. He didn’t like it. Not one bit. A pain shot up his cheek and he realized he’d been grinding his teeth. He rubbed a hand across his jaw bone.
For their final routine, the music had a sexy beat. Marc started solo in the spotlight, then a second spot appeared on Maggie, her body and head wrapped in towels as if she’d stepped out of the shower. Jace tried to listen to the words of the song, something about a man standing at a mirror, rinsing off his razor and a girl wearing nothing but a towel. As the two lights came together, she stood behind Marc and wrapped her arms around him. Walking hands down his body to his thighs, then back up again, Marc spun her, removing the towel as she twirled away. Underneath, she wore a low-cut body suit with sequins strategically situated, and a skimpy shimmering skirt. When Marc pulled her back to straddle his leg, tugged the towel loose and ran his hand through her hair, Jace’s head pounded. Marc popped her face forward, cupped her chin and pressed their lips together.
“Damn,” Jace muttered and whispered to Sam. “Anything going on between them?”
“No, man.”
The couple’s hands traveled the length of each other’s bodies, their movements like positions from the Kama Sutra. She spun away, then ran toward her partner at full speed. He caught her, flipped her, and slid his palm to the small of her back. Balancing her on one hand, he spun her above his head.
The crowd gasped and Jace gripped his chair arms tighter. “Are you sure?”
“He couldn’t get a hard on for her if he tried.”
“So he’s gay?”
“One hundred percent.”
Jace took a deep breath and released it. Until that news, he’d thought Marc the enemy, now, he loved the guy.
For the grand finale, a select group of female cast members appeared on the floor, all wearing black wigs and harem costumes. In exchange of veils, they wore bandanas tied around their faces. The music started and they belly danced into the audience. Jace became mesmerized when one appeared in front of him, shimmying and shaking. Her hips gyrated and vibrated to the point he couldn’t pull his eyes away from the movement. When she placed fingers under his chin and lifted his face, his heart somersaulted. Maggie’s green eyes stared back. Then she winked and moved away.
To hell with what she deserved. He wanted her and that was that. Tonight was the night.
While she changed from her costume, he waited with Sam and Jared. He spotted a girl coming toward them. Jessica. Shit. He halved the distance between them, hoping to get rid of her before Maggie showed up. Unfortunately, his plan failed.
Within a few minutes, Marc, Maggie, and Sarah joined the others. Maggie fixed her gaze on the girl. Jace tried to read her face. Anger? Disappointment? Hurt? He couldn’t be sure. “Hey, Magpie, you were great. You have some moves.”
“Thanks. I’d like for you to meet Marc Papadakos. Marc, this is Jace and Jared Sloan and you already know Sam.” She cut her eyes back to Jace. “Don’t you want to introduce your friend?”
He stuttered. “Uh—sure. Everybody, this is Jessica.”
Jessica looped her arm through Jace’s, leaned into him, and assessed Maggie. “You were fantastic.”
“Thank you.”
He shrugged away, grabbed Jessica’s elbow and ushered her toward the exit, then returned to the group.
Marc draped his arm around Maggie’s shoulder. “Beboula, a group of us are going to Delilah’s for a drink. You coming? Of course, Jace, Jared, you’re welcome, too.”
“Well, if y’all don’t mind an almost thirty-year old at your party, I’m in,” Jared said, then turned his attention to Jace. “You had a rough game today, so if you’re not up it, I’ll be happy to get Maggie home.”
He tightened his jaw again. “That won’t be necessary.” He twisted to face her. “You want to go?”
“No, I’m tired.”
After the group walked away, Jace looked at her. “What did Marc call you?”
“Oh, he called me beboula. It’s Greek slang for baby girl. Depending on his mood, he calls me that when he’s pleased with me, beba when he teases me, booboo when he makes fun of me, and bebeca when he’s mad at me, and they all mean the same thing.”
Jace sensed something in her tone and decided it had everything to do with Jessica. “I’ll be happy to go to the club.”
“No, that’s okay. But why don’t you catch up to Jessica. I know you want to and I can find another ride home.”
“No, I don’t. I want to take you home.”
“Just because you brought me to the recital doesn’t make you responsible for me all night.”
“Are you mad at me?”
“No.”
He wasn’t a fool. He knew she was angry, regardless of what she said. Damn, Jessica. Why did she have to show up when things were going so well? Maggie probably thought he’d asked Jessica to meet him there. He started to explain, but thought better of it.
Once in the truck, he asked again. “Are you sure you don’t want to meet your friends? I’m fine.”
“No, that’s okay.”
Twenty minutes later they wheeled into her drive and he made one last attempt. “Can I come in?”
“I’m tired. Maybe another time.”
“Well, at least let me walk you to the door.”
“No need. Thanks for the ride.”
He waited until she went in, then drove away. No doubt she was pissed, but he wasn’t sure why. He kept going back and forth about sleeping with her. He wanted her. More than he’d ever wanted a woman. But he sure as hell didn’t like being rejected.
An hour later, at Jessica’s apartment, he stared in the mirror. Why do I keep doing this? Jessica didn’t mean shit.
When he came from the bathroom, she lay in the center of her bed, smiling. “Oh, your tutor called. I asked if she wanted to leave a message, but she said she’d talk to you later.” She pitched his cell phone to him and he
caught it.
His heart rate accelerated to full throttle. “You answered my phone?”
“Yeah.”
“Shit, Jessica, why did you do that?”
“I thought it might be important.”
“The hell you did!” He yanked his boots on, opened the door and slammed it behind him.
Apology is only egotism wrong side out.
~Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.
Maggie ended the call and fell back against the headboard. What a fool. She’d called to apologize for being curt and caught him with Jessica. If Maggie wanted to admit it or not, she was jealous. To make matters worse, she heard the delight in Jessica’s voice. Bitch.
She needed to stop torturing herself. Her attraction to Jace would never be returned. If she doubted it before, now there was proof. He hadn’t batted an eye when he lied and then went straight to the bimbo. Maggie stared at the ceiling and calculated the remaining study sessions. Eight more times before finals. She wasn’t sure she could hide her lust that long.
It occurred to her she could leave after work on Sunday and spend a few days in Abilene. All her mother’s belongings needed to be packed and she could avoid a confrontation. By now, he knew Jessica answered his phone and he’d want to offer some lame excuse.
Aphrodite stretched paws against the bed and Maggie lifted her onto her lap. “That’s what I’ll do, Dydee. As soon as I get off tomorrow, I’ll head to Abilene. I haven’t missed any classes all semester, so I can afford to skip a few days.”
Aphrodite purred and Maggie’s spirits lifted in spite of the man-whore. If she left tomorrow, and came back Wednesday, that would cancel two meetings. A couple of missed sessions might not be enough to get over him, but it was a start.
As a precaution, she checked the weather forecast, and when she did, plans changed. The weatherman predicted snow and ice. If she waited until the next day, she might not be able travel. After calling the hospital to change her schedule, she texted Sarah. Thirty minutes later, with the car packed and Aphrodite in her crate, Maggie headed east to Abilene, three hours away.
~~*~~
Jace lay awake, sore and aching from the beating he’d taken at the game. As much as he loved the sport, he’d grown tired of the constant abuse his body suffered. He rolled over, adjusted the ice pack on his ribs and grabbed a bottle of pain reliever from the bedside table. On the last play, he’d seconded guessed his route. That hesitation cost him. He downed a couple of pills, and chased them with water. He thought back to earlier. Damn Jessica. The one time he forgot to lock his phone. Lesson learned. He wouldn’t let that happen again. Why did she answer it? He knew why. Women were like that. The minute she saw it was another woman, she couldn’t wait to talk to her.
He wanted to go back to Maggie’s and explain, but his damn curfew prevented that. Well, what’s done is done. The question now, how to fix it? Why should he worry? Maggie said if he wanted to hook up with Jessica, go for it. Hell, he didn’t owe either of them anything. Then why did he feel like he’d been caught with his dick in the cookie jar?
He slung his feet to the floor and swallowed another drink of water. Even though it wasn’t intentional, it turned out he’d lied to her after all. If she’d only let him go in with her, he wouldn’t have ended up in Jessica’s bed.
Since meeting his tutor, every time he slept with somebody, guilt settled in the pit of his stomach and because of that, it wasn’t fun anymore. Not like it used to be.
He screwed the lid on the water bottle, lay back down, stared into the darkness and thought of the belly dance. The way Maggie moved, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. The fantasy of her moving the same way against him caused blood to pool in his groin.
Rolling onto his side, he winced with pain. He didn’t know what hurt more, his ribs or his back. Hell, everything hurt. He punched his pillow. He needed to stop thinking about her and get his head straight. Both of them. He rubbed between his legs to ease the ache, then went back to his thoughts. He’d apologize and things would go back to the way they were. They’d finish the semester and move on with their lives.
~~*~~
By the time Maggie pulled into the drive at her mother’s house, it was just past two in the morning. After attending the football game and recital, not to mention the anger, soul searching, and three hour drive in bad weather, she was exhausted. Once inside the house, she changed into pajamas, got Aphrodite settled, and collapsed onto the bed. Within minutes, she fell asleep.
At first, she thought it was a dream. The knocking fit right into the song playing in her head. But when the chorus moved from we will rock you to the next verse, the beat continued. She opened her eyes and realized someone was at the door. She glanced at the clock. Eleven? I meant to be up hours ago.
She slung her feet to the floor, then tramped downstairs. She didn’t remove the safety chain, but opened it as far as she could. “What are you doing here?”
Jace shivered in the cold. “Let me in. We need to talk.”
~~*~~
The sudden blast of cold air caused Maggie’s nipples to stand at attention and the result didn’t go unnoticed by Jace. The wind plastered her red flannel pajama bottoms and long sleeve shirt against her body. Her hair stood in every direction. She was a sexy mess. A slow ache began to build. He stuck his hands in his pockets, hoping to ease the reaction.
“Can I come in?”
She didn’t answer and offered an icy stare.
“Maggie?” he repeated, hoping to snap her from her trance.
“I’m thinking.”
That’s all she said, but stepped aside to let him pass. Once inside, he turned to face her. “Okay, I know you’re mad, but in my defense, I didn’t plan to be with Jessica. When I drove you home, and asked if I could come inside and you refused…”
She held up her hand. “You’re putting this on me? Unbelievable. Do you ever take responsibility for any of your bad behavior?”
Shouldn’t she be screaming? That’s what normal women did when they got angry. Instead, she crossed arms over her chest and remained calm.
“I didn’t plan it and I didn’t do it to make you jealous.”
“Oh my God. Can you get over yourself for a single minute? I’m not jealous. Sleep with every girl on campus for all I care. Get matching tattoos. It’s none of my business.” She broke into a laugh.
He scrunched his face. “Why are you laughing?”
“I got a flash of how you’d look if you did get matching tats with all your sexual partners. God, you’d be inked from head to toe. An entry in Guinness, no doubt.”
“Okay, so maybe jealous wasn’t the right word, but Jessica upset you.”
“She didn’t upset me. You upset me. You insulted me. You lied to me.”
“I didn’t. I mean, when I told you I didn’t want to go with her, I meant it. I decided to see her after you kicked me out.”
She pushed past him and stood on the stairway. Her nipples no longer stood at attention, but her breasts rose and fell with each breath.
He tried to focus on her face. “You want to slap me? Go ahead. Let some of that pent up frustration out.”
Her expression changed and he braced for impact. Finally, here it comes, the wrath of Maggie. But instead, she continued in the same tone, but this time with more agitation.
“You think I’m frustrated? Is that one more thing you need to fix for me? I should have never told you about my past. Ever since I did, you’ve felt a misplaced responsibility. You want to make sure I get home okay. You want to help me find my father. Well, I’m not your charity case. You don’t need to solve any of my problems. I’m fine. I’ve always been fine. So you can go.”
He rocked back on his heels and a lump formed in his throat. This wasn’t going the way he planned. He felt scolded by his mother. “No, I can’t. Have you looked outside? The streets are solid ice. It took me an hour to travel the last ten miles just to get here. They’ve closed the interstate. You may not like it, but you�
�re stuck with me.”
Her face strained with obvious tension. “Fine. I’m going upstairs and getting dressed. You may as well make yourself useful. There are boxes in the garage. You pack the kitchen and I’ll work in my mom’s bedroom.” She pirouetted, headed for the stairs, and spoke over her shoulder. “As soon as the weather clears, I want you to leave. Until then, stay out of my way.”
Boys fall in love with what they see, girls fall in love with what they hear, that’s why girls wear make-up and boys lie.
~Unknown
Maggie stomped upstairs to her room and closed the door, thankful to be away from the most confusing man she’d ever met. He insists on taking me home from the recital, sleeps with another woman, and then travels three hours in the worst weather of the season to say he’s sorry? She regretted confiding in him. Because of it, he’d appointed himself as her savior.
Aphrodite rubbed against Maggie’s arm. “Why does he always have to look so damn good?” she said to the cat. “The beard stubble. The perfectly starched jeans. The tee shirt clinging to his body just right. God, why can’t I hate him?”
She sat up, grabbed her phone and checked the weather again. “This time tomorrow, the roads should be clear enough for travel.” She picked the cat up and dangled her until they were face to face. “Twenty-four hours. I only have to make it twenty-four hours. I can do that.”
She put the cat on the floor, then went to her suitcase and removed yoga pants and a hoodie. Thank goodness this time she’d brought only Tech shirts and nothing with Jace’s name or number. Once dressed, she sat on the bed, stuck her feet into fuzzy socks and reminded herself what a playboy he was.
When she got back downstairs, he was sitting at the kitchen table surrounded by boxes. “Where do you want me to start?”