“So here’s the million dollar question,” Ian went on. “If ‘Eevie’s’ mother marries her boyfriend’s father, will ‘Eevie’ and her boyfriend be committing incest? I say yes, but my co-host…” Ian wiggled his eyebrows at me, “says no. How about you settle this for us. Give us a ring at 555-KRAZ and let us know what you think. We’ll be waiting.”
He flipped off the microphone and crossed his arms over his stomach with a satisfied grin.
“You colossal jackass!” I screeched, pummeling his chest with my fists. “What do you think you’re doing?”
He caught my arms by the wrists and held me there. “Just testing the waters for you, sweetheart. You wouldn’t want to go beyond the pale of polite society, now, would you?”
I yanked back with a scowl. “Fine,” I snarled. “You’re the one who’s going to feel like an ass when they agree I’m right.”
His eyes glimmered. “Want to make a wager on that?”
“Name your terms,” I said without missing a beat.
Ian pulled a roll of mint Lifesavers from his pocket and tossed one into his mouth. He flipped it between his tongue and teeth a few times as he considered whatever he was cooking up in that head of his. “We’ll take five calls. Majority rules. If I win, you do my laundry for a month.”
Ick. I hated doing my own laundry. The thought of having to do Ian’s was about as humiliating and degrading as it got. “And if I win…” I trailed off, searching my mind for the most torturous task that I could come up with. Inspiration hit. “When I win, you have to wait on the girls and me, hand and foot, two weeks from now when we watch the five-hour version of Pride & Prejudice. We’re doing pedicures, and you’ll be doing sugar scrubs on our feet and painting our toenails.”
Ian looked a little green as he offered his hand. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
I wrapped my fingers around his and yanked him so close that our noses were almost touching. “I sure hope you have a steady hand with a nail polish brush, Hollister. You’re gonna need it.”
He grinned, all self-assurance. “Just bear in mind that I’m allergic to fabric softener, sweetheart.” He puckered his lips and blew me a kiss. His minty breath rushed over my mouth, causing my lips to erupt into hot-cold tingles.
I pulled back slowly with a frown, feeling a curious swooping in the pit of my stomach. The tingles spread from my mouth to my throat and around the back of my neck. I rubbed the goose bumps at the base of my hairline.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I scrubbed harder at my neck and the bumps subsided. That was bizarre.
Ian nudged my thigh with his knee. “You’re not thinking about backing out already, are you?”
I shook the weirdness off and glared at him. “You wish. Let’s do this.”
Our first caller to reply was a girl named Jolene. “I’m assuming they’re adults, right?” she asked.
“Absolutely,” I said.
“And this is a new thing, right? They didn’t grow up together, and their parents are only dating? They’re not married or anything?”
“No, they’re not married.”
“Then I don’t really see a problem with it,” Jolene said. “Even if the parents do get married, the whole step-brother/step-sister thing, it’s just a title.”
“Why, thank you, Jolene,” I said, giving Ian a smug smile. I held up a single finger. That’s one.
“I think the whole idea is perverted,” said Daryl, the next caller. “Yeah, it’s not morally wrong, but it would be difficult and screwed up trying to build a romantic relationship while your parents are doing the same. Plus, imagine if your friend got knocked up, and then her mom did. How are those two kids going to relate to each other?”
“A very good point.” Ian tilted his head at me and blinked a few times. “What are your thoughts on that, Ivy?”
“Aside from being unlikely, it wouldn’t be unheard of for a mother and daughter to have a child at the same time, and the kids would probably treat each other like cousins. I actually knew a girl in fifth grade whose niece was in the same grade as us, and that’s exactly how they referred to each other: as cousins. It wasn’t a big deal.”
Ian rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but the niece probably wasn’t the product of a brother-sister pair, so that’s different.”
“Step-brother and step-sister, and I actually couldn’t tell you if they were.”
“Fine,” Ian said. “Thanks, Daryl. Next caller.”
“I tend to agree with the last caller,” a girl named Sara said. “While ‘perverted’ is a little harsh and denotes an intended sexual-deviancy, I would say it’s wrong because it confuses the family structure. It would be frowned upon by society, and who would want to contend with everyone’s disapproval and put up with people talking about you?”
Ian nodded and made a peace sign with his fingers. “Two,” he mouthed. “Hmm, Ivy, your thoughts?”
“Here’s a thought.” I flipped him the middle finger.
Ian roared with laughter. I wanted to wipe the triumphant smile off his face. “That’s not very lady-like of you.”
I scowled. “Like you’d know anything about what a lady is with all your stupid twits.”
“Hey, now, no need to get personal.” He tapped a button on the console. “Next caller, you’re on the air.”
***
“Tell me all about him,” Amery commanded the moment I climbed into her Audi A4 – another substitute for her father’s love and attention – Friday night.
I shrugged out of my denim jacket and buckled my seat belt, glancing at her sideways. “Him, who?”
“Come on! The guy who had Ian’s ass-hairs in a twist last night?”
I sighed. “Oh, that him.”
“Yes, that him.” She slapped the side of my thigh with the back of her hand. “And why am I detecting a shocking lack of enthusiasm in your voice?”
I looked out the window into the black night. “You heard what everyone said.”
“So?”
“So what if they’re right? What if this is just a disaster in the making?”
Amery sighed as she steered the car out of my complex. “You want my take? It’s your life and you’ve only got one. If you’re interested in this guy and he’s interested in you, than screw what anyone else thinks. Give it a go and see what happens.”
“You think?”
“I just said so, didn’t I?”
I just wasn’t sure what to think. Friggin’ Ian. Messing with my head. “So let’s start over again,” Amery said. “Tell me about the guy. I want all the details, and be quick about it. We’ll be at Seligman in two minutes.”
I chuckled, allowing some of the enthusiasm I’d felt before work the night before trickle back into my system. “Okay, his name is Jayden.”
“Great name. You met him at dinner?”
“Actually, I met him at the garage. He worked on my car.”
“A mechanic, huh?” Amery’s voice indicated she thought this was a negative. She was a bit of a snob about such things; a result of her Park Avenue upbringing, but I didn’t hold it against her much. “Well, at least he has a job. Does he go to school?”
“He’s only been in town for about a week. He plans to enroll next fall.”
“That’s good.” Amery looked over and waggled her eyebrows. “Hot?”
“Smokin’.”
Amery squealed and bounced in her seat. “Stats?”
I smiled as I recalled the way Jayden had looked when I first laid eyes on him at the garage. “Blond, blue-gray eyes, has a lean, tight body, and fills out a pair of Levi’s like they were custom-made.”
Amery mimicked my sigh. “Niiice. Has he called?”
“He’s a guy. I don’t expect to hear from him for at least three days.”
Amery stuck out her tongue as she whipped the car around the corner. “God, I hate that. What is with that, anyway?”
“I don’t know. Some B.S. about not wanting to seem too eager.�
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“You know, whoever gave guys that idea should have their balls cut off.”
“Amen to that, sister. The waiting can be pure agony.”
“Don’t they realize we want them to appear eager?” Amery waved one of her hands around and the car swerved.
“Both hands on the wheel, please.”
Amery returned her hand to the wheel, but didn’t break topic. “I mean, I, for one, want to know where I stand before too much time is invested.”
I considered that. “To be fair, there are the guys who are too eager and won’t leave you alone.”
Amery made a disgusted face. “Yeah, the puppy dogs.”
“I was going to say leeches.”
Amery nodded. “Okay, back on topic. He asked you out?”
I fiddled with the radio dial. I could not handle Amery’s bubble-gum pop music on top of her bad driving. “Yes, ma’am.”
“What did he say? And be specific.” A bit of a whine crept into Amery’s voice. “I haven’t had a date in four months and need to live vicariously through you.”
I recited the entire conversation.
Amery pulled her car up to the main drive of Ian’s residence hall at top speed. I air-braked the car from my side as she neared the back end of a blue Ford Ranger. She slammed on the brakes just inches from the truck and threw the car in park. After banging the bottom of her fist on the horn a couple of times, she turned her body to face me. “I give him ten points for smoothness, and another ten for his incredibly good taste.”
I released a breath of relief that we’d made it to Ian’s in one piece. “Thanks, sweetie.” I spotted Ian emerging from the double doors of the hall. He was insisting on accompanying us to the party that night, despite his warnings. I exhaled and tilted my head in his direction. “Now, I’ve just got to figure out a way to keep him from sabotaging it.”
Amery blew out a low whistle. “Good luck with that, girlfriend.”
***
The old firehouse had been empty for as long as I could remember. Housed in a red-brick building in the Historic District of Ironwood, it had been converted to a nightclub back in the seventies, but closed sometime before I was born. Mom had been lobbying the Ironwood City Council to have it restored to its original pre-World War I state since I was fifteen but, as of yet, it remained untouched. Well, relatively untouched; the classic double doors and the plywood covering the windows were now decorated with layers of graffiti.
The decrepit building was bustling with activity when we entered, both inside and out. The music blared and there were people all over, dancing, chatting, and standing around in small groups. My nose wrinkled when we entered. The smell of smoke, sweat, and rot hung heavy in the air.
Amery and I locked arms as we fell in step behind Ian. People parted to let him by, and to my annoyance, several girls’ faces lit up with hope as he passed.
“Do you see Casey?” Amery asked in a loud voice. She spun in a circle as she sought him out. He’d texted her a few minutes before to let us know he’d arrived.
Lifting up on my toes, I searched the dim room for his shaggy head.
“Over there.” Ian pointed to one of the round tables in the far back of the room, past the old bar and stage, where our friend was chatting with his former bandmates, Eddie Mulligan and Oscar Figueroa.
Ian glanced down at me. I lifted my nose in the air and pointedly looked away. I was not speaking to him after last night.
“Ten bucks says Casey’s trying to talk them into a reunion tour,” Amery said as we made our way over.
We exchanged pitying smiles. Poor Casey. He was always trying so hard to get his freshman-year band back together, convinced they’d be the next Weezer, but no one was interested.
Casey launched himself to his feet the moment he spotted us. “Ladies! I am so glad you’re here.” He gave us both hugs and then turned to Ian. “Back me up on this, bro.” He motioned in the direction of his companions. “If we were to reunite, we would not be starting back at square one. We still have name recognition, right?”
I dropped my jacket into one of the chairs that Casey had been saving for us and looked at Amery. “I’d say it’s time for a beer. Come with me?”
After our first beers, Amery and I went out to dance for a little while, but we retreated to the table when these guys kept trying to grind on us and wouldn’t take a hint.
A few beers later, I rose unsteadily to my feet. I hadn’t eaten much before coming, and the alcohol was going straight to my head. I had a nice tingly buzz going on.
“Where are you going?” Ian asked. Several girls were dancing a few feet away, trying their damndest to get his attention, but he’d been ignoring them most of the night, too busy making repeated comments about how boring the party was to pay them any mind. I almost wished he’d go off with one of them and give me some peace. “I’m going to the bathroom,” I said to Amery, pretending I hadn’t heard him.
Ian leaned forward. “Again? You just went ten minutes ago.”
Amery pointed her finger at me and roared with laughter. “Someone broke the seal!”
If I was a lightweight, Amery was a featherweight, and as of right now, she was pretty damn plastered. Thank God Ian wasn’t drinking. He’d have to drive us both home.
“Huh? What seal?” Ian asked.
Amery laughed so hard she snorted. “The pee-pee o’ring.”
I shook my head at my friend. She got downright silly when she drank.
Ian sat back in his chair. “Sorry I asked.”
“Want me to go with?” Amery made a sloppy attempt to rise to her feet, but I was pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to stay upright long enough to cross the room.
I urged her back into her seat. “No, that’s okay, honey. Really.”
Ian waved a hand. “Hey, Ivy? I wanna leave when you get back, okay? This party is lame.”
Well, he wasn’t wrong there. It was pretty lame, but I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of letting him know he’d been right all along. I looked down at Amery. “I don’t know about you, but I’m having a fabulous time.”
“High five for a fabulous time!” Amery squealed and held up her hand.
I had to chase her hand around to slap it. “High five, girlfriend.”
“You’ve made your point,” Ian said. “Besides,” a sliver of amusement crept into his voice, “you’re going to need a good night’s rest. You’ve got at least three loads of laundry to do tomorrow.”
I did look at him, then. And it took every ounce of composure I possessed not to haul off and hit him. “Go fuck yourself, you smug bastard!” I stomped to the bathroom and heard Amery’s howls of laughter the entire way.
***
I was still seething when I stepped out of the disgusting bathroom. I was not going back to that table. Ian could wait all night, for all I cared. I turned in the other direction from where my friends were hanging out and wandered around a bit. After a minute or so, I paused as the faint sounds of an acoustic guitar reached my ears over the much louder music played by the DJ.
I followed the sound down a narrow hallway that let out into a small alcove away from the main room. I smirked when I spotted Graydon strumming a guitar. A small group of listeners swayed back and forth to his fairly impressive rendition of Harry Chapin’s Cats in the Cradle.
Both my mom and Nonni had loved the song, and I’d learned the lyrics to it long before I learned to read. I mouthed the words in time to his playing.
As Graydon played the last few melancholy strands of the tune, his blue eyes opened. While he was dressed pretty much the same as the other night, he’d forgone the beanie. Even under his glasses, his eyes really stood-out against the backdrop of his wavy brown hair. He scanned the room and his gaze landed on me. A smile of recognition spread over his face.
I tipped my head in compliment while his listeners clapped and patted his back. He thanked them, rose from his seat, and made his way over to me.
“You made it
, dollface!”
I rolled my eyes at the endearment. “Yeah, well my friends and I decided we were overdue for some nice, clean fun.” I looked around the loft with a grimace. “Though I don’t know how clean this place is. I think I saw a fuzzy ball of mold actually moving in the ladies’ room.” I pointed at his guitar. “That a Gibson?”
He raised the guitar for my inspection. “A J150.” His voice was full of pride. “Do you play?”
“A little.” I’d taken lessons for three weeks before giving up in high school. I reached out to stroke the smooth, rosewood fingerboard, and pressed my fingertips to the mother of pearl inlay. It felt cool and smooth. “I’ve never played anything so beautiful, though. It’s a gorgeous instrument.”
“Isn’t it?” He stared down at it with a look of reverence. “It took me three summers of bussing tables to save up enough money, but the moment I saw her, I knew I had to have her.”
I could appreciate that. It must have cost a small fortune, but Gibsons were well worth it.
“I should probably put this away. I think I’m done playing for the night.” He gave me a quick once-over then cocked his head to the side with an inviting grin. “You wanna come with me?”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Come with you where, exactly?”
He notched a finger in the direction of the second level. “My case is upstairs.”
“You know, I should probably be getting back to my friends.”
“Oh, come on. It’ll only take a minute. Besides, it’s pretty cool upstairs. You ever been?”
I shook my head slowly.
“Then I absolutely can’t let you go until you’ve had the full experience.” He grabbed my hand, giving it a tug. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I did.”
An alarm blared in my head that I should really go back to my friends, that this was a very, very bad idea. But the part of my brain still incensed with Ian cooed in a very enticing voice that nothing would piss him off more.
I shrugged and gave Graydon a brilliant smile. “Sure, why not?”
CHAPTER FIVE
The Truths about Dating and Mating Page 8