by T. Torrest
“Right behind us,” Vix answers before jerking her head toward him. “Nice bathing suit.”
Ron ignores her and instead turns his attentions to me. “Hey Liv! Better get that camera ready. I’m gonna do a dead-on impersonation of a humpback whale. You ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
I snap a few “before” shots as he rolls off the raft and into the pool. One second later, his naked ass breaks the surface of the water.
We all crack right the hell up.
“Ah, a face only a mother could love,” Tess says as she makes her way out to the backyard. She’s followed by a giggling Sam and a horrified Isla.
Jack isn’t laughing. He seems almost annoyed as he spits out the first words he’s spoken since we got here. “How many of you are there?”
I don’t know who he’s talking to, but I assume it isn’t me, considering the last words he spoke in my presence had me storming off two nights ago.
Tess turns her head toward Jack, then slowly back to me. She slithers, “Who’s the new meat?” and then heads over near the pool.
She removes her sunglasses and saunters to the end of Jack’s chaise before bending over to extend her hand, practically spilling out of her halter top.
Jack smirks and surmises, “You must be Tess.”
She shoots a look at Ronnie, who shrugs his shoulders in mock innocence. He grabs her ankle and she screams, hopping on one foot as she tries to twist out of his grasp, eventually falling into the pool.
There’s a huge splash, and then her head breaks the surface. “Dick!” she yells, propelling a wave of water at her assailant as we all die laughing at the sight.
Ronnie goes to kiss her hello, but she dodges and shoves his head under instead. She paddles her way to the edge, throws her arms over the side and says, “Hey Liv! Where’s Zuko this weekend?”
See? Comedians everywhere.
There is no godly reason for her to ask me that. I’d already told her that Mitch and I are through, however unofficially. Obviously, Vix must’ve spilled the beans that Jack had gotten under my skin on Friday, and Tess is screwing around, stoking the fire.
It works, because Jack abruptly announces that he’s going to finally take a shower as he proceeds to get up and leave.
Tess looks at me, curling a wicked lip as she asks, “Did I miss something the other night?”
I’m feeling exposed and embarrassed and more than a little pissed off. “Hey Tess, why don’t you shut your dick hole?” I answer, my eyes narrowing.
“Oh, it was a joke. Not a cock. Don’t take it so hard.”
Before we can say anything more, Monty hauls himself off the lounge chair and puts a hand under my elbow. He practically drags me with him into the kitchen, saying, “Hope you don’t mind that I’m kidnapping you, but I need some help with all this food.”
I scan my eyes over the sentinel of shopping bags on the island as I shoot back, “Pfft. You were just trying to save Tess from being murdered.”
“True, but I really do need help. Do you mind?”
My anger deflates at that. Of course I don’t mind. “No, of course not. Where should we start?”
Along with the ton of groceries, Walter left a list of detailed instructions for how we should prepare them until he can come home from his event and take over.
Monty and I are side by side at his counter, slicing up some peppers and onions when he throws out, “Sooo, I’m surprised you haven’t asked me about Jack yet.”
I keep my focus on the cutting board, trying to seem completely unaffected by his choice of subject matter. Hell, I’m doing everything short of whistling Dixie in my attempt to come across as uninterested. “Jack? Why would I ask about him?” I return as casually as possible.
I catch his smirk in my peripheral vision. “No reason.”
We both go back to our slicing. “Seether” is playing on the sound system—appropriately enough—and I try to concentrate on that rather than the miniature Jean Claude Van Damme kicking the shit out of my stomach.
When I can’t take the awkward silence any longer, I decide that the jig is up.
“Fine!” I say at last, putting down the knife and turning toward him. Monty keeps slicing away, but a smile is tugging at the corner of his lips.
Jerk.
I cross my arms over my chest and just let out with it. “Yes, okay, I’m curious. Alright? Happy?”
“Very.”
“But,” I go on, “only because I find it weird that we’ve never met him before now. I mean, I’ve known you for years and you’ve known him for even longer. Where have you been hiding him?”
That brings a chuckle from Monty. “I haven’t been hiding him anywhere. His girlfriend has.”
Girlfriend? Oh crap! I know I should be feeling crazy-guilty, but instead, all I can feel is my heart reluctantly sinking.
“Girlfriend?” I ask, hoping I don’t sound too pathetic.
“Uh-huh. Sadie. I haven’t seen her since they first started dating, but yikes. What a bitch.”
It’s surprising to hear such a negative opinion coming from a guy who normally likes everyone. I’m suddenly intrigued, and this time, I don’t bother trying to hide it. My eyebrows rise as he continues his criticism.
“None of us ever liked her. She always came off a little snooty, like Jack’s friends were beneath her somehow. I never understood why he even started dating her. I mean, her daddy was his boss, for godsakes. He’d been dangling this great construction job over Jack’s head forever. It’s the only reason he hung in there as long as he did.”
Past tense. Okay. Phew.
I ask, a little too eagerly, “Did?”
“Yes. Did. They broke up a couple months ago. Or so we think. He doesn’t really talk about it. He was MIA for years, but then all of a sudden, there he is, calling us out of the blue to hang out. By that time, surprise! One of his songs is playing on the radio. I knew he played guitar, but shit, I never realized he was serious about it; last I’d heard, he was planning on building houses for a living.”
“It would be kind of hard to turn his back on the music thing now, though, right?”
“Yeah. He got lucky, but I know that even this little taste of fame has got him rattled. It’s a lot to deal with.” My memory flashes to the way all those girls were trying to get close to him Friday night in the club. I was claustrophobic just watching it. I can’t imagine what that must’ve felt like for Jack. “It’s weird, though. Even with everything he’s on the verge of achieving, the sick thing is, I think he’d rather succeed as a contractor.”
“Enough to get back with Sadie?” I ask, a little too quickly.
Monty replies, “Livi, nobody’s that sick.”
I suppress a giggle as I try to picture Jack with someone “snooty” like Monty assessed. Why would he have invested years in a bad relationship with someone like that? Even if that someone’s daddy was holding the keys to some dream job. It doesn’t add up.
But considering the convoluted lowlights of my dating history, who am I to judge?
While thinking, I get back to work beside Monty, preparing food for the party. He asks me to go fetch some Sterno pans from the hall closet, so I dry my hands on a dish towel before heading up the stairs.
I open the closet door… just as Jack emerges from the bathroom.
He’s clad only in a thin, white towel; his hair is still wet, and his hands are slicking it back from his chiseled face. His arms and chest are roped muscle, practically shimmering in the afternoon light. I can see a tattoo at his left shoulder blade, and another on his right bicep, but I’m too stunned at the sight of his almost-naked body to make them out in any great detail.
Yeah, I know I already hooked up with the guy and all, but we were fully clothed in a dark closet, and this is the first look I’m getting of his incredible body.
And. Oh. My. God.
My stomach immediately does an uncontrolled somersault. To cover for the fact that he may or may not
have just seen my jaw hit the floor, I execute a quick wolf whistle.
He turns, surprised to see me there, but offers a cool, “Good thing I didn’t decide to air dry.”
I laugh as he moseys into the Blue Room and shuts the door. Exactly one second later, the door opens and his hand shoots out, dropping the towel to the floor.
That has me barking out a laugh.
I retrieve the aluminum pans and start to head back to the kitchen. But before I can reach the stairs, Jack comes bounding out of the bedroom, wearing nothing but a pair of dark green track shorts. “Hey, Liv. What’s your hurry?”
“I’m helping Monty and Walter get the food ready.”
I’m still feeling awkward toward Jack, but if I’m going to be stuck in the same house with him for the next twenty-four hours, I can’t very well give him the cold shoulder all day. He’s a friend of my friends, and that means he deserves a smidge of common courtesy at the very least.
So he’s not interested in me. So what.
I’m aiming for “unaffected,” but my voice comes out sounding overly bored when I say, “Why? What do you want?”
His lips purse together, as if he is literally trying to bite his tongue. Instead, his eyelids lower to half-mast as he says, “You’re not so tough, you know. You try to put up this big front, but your act is pretty transparent.”
I put a hand to my hip. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? I’m not putting on an act.”
“Sure you are. This whole groupie thing you’ve got going on. I’m not buying it.”
“I wasn’t trying to sell it.”
At that, he cracks a small smile, and it makes me feel more vulnerable than had I been standing there completely naked. You know, kind of like how he almost is.
The thing is, I almost don’t mind being called out by him, since most guys don’t bother to scratch beyond the surface. It’s flattering to think that Jack is intrigued enough to try. Because honestly? I was full of it when I said I wasn’t acting. I’m sort of impressed that he was able to figure me out so soon. Hell. I haven’t even figured me out yet.
Twenty-something is hard. Trying to discover who you are and who you’re going to be. Some people figure it out early, have it all together. And some people go a little off the deep end and wind up with multiple sex partners, trying to shut out the crushing trauma of trying to find their place in the world.
That’s why his assessment isn’t necessarily a relief. No one likes having their walls torn down, having their shitty reality thrown in their face. I’m sure the unease is playing out on my face as I bite my lip during our awkward silence.
Right now, all I want is to make my escape. “I should bring these down to Monty. He’s going to wonder what’s taking me so long.”
He gives me a long, hard look at that, his lip curling into a dangerous smirk.
“He can wait. I can’t.”
Before I know it, I’m dropping the pans to the floor as he backs me against the wall, his lips crashing down on mine. I want to shove him away, but hot damn. He’s fucking way too good at making me fall to pieces. I kiss him back, because really, what the hell else can I be expected to do?
I smooth my hands up his torso, feeling the muscles of his chest jumping under my palms. I slip my fingers into his hair and part my lips against his, sweeping my tongue inside—his cool, minty taste invading my senses. His insistent lips slant across my own as his hands pull me closer against his length. Despite my wishes to the contrary, my heart starts beating out of my goddamned chest. It triples in pace when I realize Jack’s is racing, too.
He pulls back to take a much needed breath, shooting those mysterious gray eyes into mine. He runs a finger across my bottom lip, lightly brushing it back and forth. “Your mouth,” his aching voice scratches out. “I could lose myself against these lips.”
My brain tumbles over itself as he comes back in for another kiss, wondering if this means he’s changed his mind about letting me do all sorts of crazy stuff to his peen.
Because I totally will.
Just as soon as he lets me.
I test the waters, skimming a hand between us and sliding my palm against the front of his shorts.
He doesn’t push me away.
Instead, he groans against my mouth and drives his hips into my hand, gripping my ass closer to his body. It’s a fairly impressive piece of equipment he’s working with over there, and I am more than thrilled to have it writhing against my palm.
Just as I tuck my thumbs into the waistband of his shorts, he tears his mouth from mine in a frustrated grunt, his hands braced against my shoulders.
He can’t even meet my eyes as he says, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have, uh...”
Goddammit. This horseshit again? I can’t take it anymore.
“What the hell, Jack? Why don’t you want to have sex with me?”
I’m trying very hard not to let any hurt show. But hurt I am.
He runs a hand through his hair and growls, “It’s not that I don’t want to. Believe me, I want to very much.”
“So, what are you? Some sort of straight-edger or something?”
Jack chuckles to himself and answers, “No.”
“Closeted gay?”
“No.”
“A virgin?”
“No. Not at all. Trust me, in the old days, there was never anything virtuous about me. But I’m done being that guy.”
“Well, then you seriously misread this situation. Because I’m not done being that girl.”
He crosses his arms over his chest and stares me down. “You don’t really mean that.”
“You don’t know me well enough to make such an assessment.”
“I know you’ve had boyfriends. It’s not always party time for you.”
Huh. Looks as though someone has been doing his recon. I put my hands on my hips and give a huff. “So... what? You want to be my boyfriend?”
A sly grin cracks his face at that. He steps too close, and I catch a whiff of his smoky, shaving-cream scent as he lowers his head and nudges his lips against my ear. “Are you asking?”
The comment flusters me so badly that I actually stammer when I say, “That’s not… You know what I meant.”
He doesn’t step away, and just continues running his nose along my jaw. “Hey, Lips? I don’t even think you know what you meant.”
“Will you stop that, please?” I ask feebly.
Jack halts his nuzzling to meet my eyes. “Stop what?”
“Playing me.”
“Is that what you think I’m doing?”
“Well, how else can I explain your behavior? You’re either the worst kind of tease or you’re schizophrenic.”
He lets out a snicker at that. “I’m neither. It’s just that... I’ve been here before. I’m done with that life. I’m trying something new.”
“I’m not some goddamned experiment, you know.”
“That’s not what I meant.” He runs a hand over his face and lets out a heavy breath. “I just don’t want to do this anymore. I’m tired of hopping into bed with women I don’t care about. And I think I could care about you.” He cups my jaw in his palm, running his thumb across my cheek, forcing me to meet his eyes. “Aren’t you tired of it yet? Aren’t you tired of all the meaningless sex?”
Sometimes. But I’m too wound up at the moment to admit that to him. Besides, the revelation has caught me off guard. I feel like a chink in my armor has been exposed. “You didn’t seem to be tired of it a minute ago.”
“I know. I got a little… distracted. I’m not doing a very good job of proving my point here.”
“What point is that?”
He’s still brushing his thumb against my skin as he aims those gorgeous granite eyes into mine. “That you’re so much more.”
His touch is obliterating my brain cells, and I’m feeling way too dizzy and confused to do anything other than stand here and take it. My voice comes out in a shaky cadence as I counter, “You don’t eve
n know me.”
“I know enough.”
My gray matter starts to regenerate as anger and frustration coils in my belly. I don’t give a crap about his “reasoning.” The fact of the matter is that this is now the second time the guy has left me hanging. I’m getting pretty sick of the way he’s toying with me. Just who in the hell does he think he is?
Looks like it’s my turn to push him away.
“You don’t know shit.”
CHAPTER 9
Sunday, May 28, 1995
4:09 PM
Monty’s Backyard
Spring Lake
I spend the day as far away from Jack as humanly possible. Not such an easy feat, considering we’re residing in the same backyard.
But I’ve pretty much decided that I’m done with the guy. Who cares that he’s able to reduce me to a glop of mush within a few seconds of sustained lip contact? Who cares that he’s gorgeous? Who cares that he’s talented as fuck?
Not me. That’s for sure.
I’m occupying my time with my girls, making a good-sized dent in the pitcher of Malibu Bay Breezes Walter has just delivered. The late-afternoon sun is beating down upon our heads as we lounge around the edge of the pool, wading our feet in the deep end. The current topic of discussion is Juliette Lewis’s cornrows at the Oscars. We’re laughing our asses off about it when…
…Jack’s shadow cuts across my lap and into the water at my feet.
“Mind if I sit down?” his voice asks behind me as I down the last of my drink.
I catch Tess’s eye for a quick second, just long enough for her to give me a wide-eyed well, what are you waiting for? glare. I turn to look up at Jack—he’s even taller and more imposing from my seated position—and have to hold a hand against my forehead in order to shield my eyes from the halo of glaring white light that surrounds him.
Yeah. The guy’s a real angel.
I’m not exactly happy to see him, and just before the words Mind if you go scratch your ass? can slip from my lips, he adds, “I’d like a chance to apologize, Liv.”
“I’m hungry! Anyone else hungry?” Vix asks as she stands up and bolts for the patio. Every last one of my so-called friends leaps to their feet to file away behind her.