by Beau, Jodie
In one fluid move, he put a hand behind each of my thighs and literally picked me up and slid me down right on top of him. Just like that perfect kiss at his frat house so many years before, there were no injuries or “oops” moments. He got it right on the first try. I’m telling you, the guy is smooth.
Caleb and I had moved far away from passionate, I-want-you-so-bad-I-can’t-wait-one-more-second-or-I’ll-die, kind of sex. We had FWP during ovulation only. It was a lot like getting an oil change on my car; the free coffee was nice, but I was only there for maintenance and hoped the guy would do his job as quickly as possible so I could get back to Rachael Ray.
Being with Jake was so much better. Since I was using automotive analogies, I’d describe it as an expensive full-body exterior and interior auto detail that was about eight years overdue. Our hands and lips never left each other. I didn’t want it to be over ever because I enjoyed falling off his cliff. Then again, when it’s that good, it can be quick and still satisfying. By the time we collapsed onto the floor about ten minutes later, I’d already been satisfied twice.
We lied on the floor side by side and looked at the ceiling while we tried to catch our breath and compose ourselves. I knew it was coming, that awkward OMG-WTF-did-we-just-do moment. We couldn’t just cuddle and fall asleep and put the moment off until the morning. We weren’t even on a bed! And even if we were, it wasn’t even dark out yet. And how were we supposed to get dressed when our clothes were wet? As hard as it was to get them off, there was no way they were going back on without an even more embarrassing struggle. Oh, shit, this was bad.
After years and years of planning perfect moments and avoiding the awkward ones, I had developed a certain amount of skill in this area, and I couldn’t help but give this one my best shot. When he seemed pretty much back to normal, breathing-wise, I sat up and silently held up my hand toward him for a high-five.
He turned his head toward me and laughed as his tired hand made its way over to meet mine. “Nice play, Rox,” he said as he sat up, nodding his head in approval.
And that was it. Tension cut. Awkward moment avoided. I should seriously do this shit for a living.
“I’ve never gotten a high-five after sex before,” he said. He looked pretty proud of himself, probably for earning the high-five.
“I’ve never been thrown up against a door before, either. With moves like that you should get a high-five every time.”
“Ha. If you ever want to try it again, so I can really master the move, just say when.”
Is it too early to ask? That’s what I should have said. But I didn’t. I bit my lip to keep myself from speaking and sounding totally desperate. He was probably only kidding anyway.
“I’m just messing with you,” he said.
See?
“We both know this was just a fluke,” he said as he dug through the pile of wet clothes, “so there’s no need for us to have any weird conversation about it later.”
“Excellent,” I said, handing him his t-shirt. Weird conversations weren’t on my to-do list either.
“I gotta get on the computer and start setting up appointments so we can make some money,” he said.
He stood up and managed to get his wet boxers back on. The jeans and t-shirt, we both knew, were hopeless.
I remained seated on the floor and pulled my legs up to my chest just to stop being so exposed.
He kneeled back down to my level so he could look me in the eye.
“Can I kiss you one more time?” he asked.
Gosh, he made my heart melt! He could kiss me anytime he wanted. Any. Time. But I didn’t say that. Another thing I should have said, but didn’t. I smiled at him to let him know it was okay, and he kissed me once more before I scooted away from the door and let him out.
Once he was gone, I got up, threw on my robe and headed down the hall to the shower.
Jake sleeps in the master bedroom with his own bathroom, so I knew I didn’t have to worry about running into him when I left my room. I definitely wasn’t expecting to run into Adam, though! The guy has seriously been home a total of maybe five hours since I’d moved in but, of course, he was there now. He was just coming out of his room with a laundry basket of dirty scrubs when I walked out of mine.
“What’s up, stranger?” he asked with a nod.
“Nothing, just getting ready for a shower.” I tried to act normal, but inside I panicked. How long has he been home? Did he hear anything? Does he know? Omigod!
“From what I hear, it’s about time.”
“WHAT?!” I practically screamed.
“Jake was telling me you had stopped showering. I’m just kidding, man. Relax.”
Breathe out. What a relief.
“Lemme know when you’re out of the shower so I can start my laundry,” he said.
My afterglow started to fade once I got into the shower. I had so many questions in my head, bouncing around in there like it was a pinball machine.
What have I done? Are we ruined? After weeks of awkwardness and getting to know each other and being comfortable with one another again, it was starting to feel like we were really friends. Was that over now? He said we didn’t need to have any weird conversation but things definitely wouldn’t be the same as they were before tonight, weird conversation or not. I really liked having him back in my life, and I wasn’t ready to lose him again so soon.
And seriously, what the hell was that? You’d think I’d have some kind of self-control at my age. I’m not some horny teenager, and this isn’t an episode of Jersey Shore for Christ’s sake! I’m still married, too. What a slutbag! We didn’t even use a condom. What kind of person has unprotected sex with a random guy before her divorce is even final? Not a good person, that’s for sure. In my defense, Jake was anything but random, and if it were that easy to get pregnant I’d be a mom of three in a New York City condo with five digits a month worth of child support right now. But what about STDs? He doesn’t look like he’d have an STD, but if people looked like they had STDs, STDs probably wouldn’t exist because people would not have sex with those people. I mean, who would say to themselves, that guy looks like a walking case of herpes and I totally want to do him? Huh? No one!
I was ashamed of myself. I felt happy, refreshed and satisfied … all with a side of guilt. I needed to get my feelings under control because I was acting more neurotic than was acceptable for someone who was supposed to be only moderately inclined to neuroticism.
I decided to take my dad’s advice for the second time that day and have a drink to calm my nerves. After my shower I put on some of my infamous loungewear and headed down to the kitchen. Adam and Jake were both in there as well. Adam was standing at the island digging through the drawer where we keep the pizza coupons and take-out menus. Jake was looking into the fridge. Neither of them felt the need to acknowledge my presence when I entered the room, and I took that as a good sign. That was normal.
“Is Carmen here?” Adam asked.
I didn’t know who he was talking to or who Carmen was, but Jake must have known because he answered him.
“No,” Jake answered. “I haven’t seen her in awhile. She doesn’t work at The Bar anymore.”
“Oh. I thought I heard some, um, noises upstairs when I got home,” Adam said.
Jake turned around from the fridge with a beer bottle in his hand and our eyes met. He gave me a wicked grin as he twisted off the bottle cap. Without missing a beat he said, “That was probably your sister watching porn upstairs.”
I gasped.
“Damn, Roxie,” he said to me with a gleam in his eye, “you could at least turn the volume down. You’re not the only one who lives here, you know.”
I probably should have been mad, but I laughed so hard I had to bend over and hold onto my stomach because I was afraid I might rupture something. In the middle of my laughing fit I snuck a look at Jake. I saw him bite his lip, probably to keep himself from laughing, too.
“You guys are disgusting,” Ad
am said sounding a little annoyed. “I’m gonna order take-out. You guys want anything?”
“No, thanks,” we both said at the same time.
I pulled a bottle of Riesling out of the fridge and, without a word, Jake took it from my hand, opened it with a wine key and poured me a glass.
“Thanks,” I said when he handed the glass to me.
Our fingers touched. I smiled. He grinned back at me. It was one of those sneaky half-grins, the kind exchanged only by two people who shared a secret. And I believe I’ve already mentioned how much I like secrets.
CHAPTER TWELVE
I took my wine outside to the pool and relaxed in one of the chaise lounges. The sun was about to set and GLL Challenge #13 was to watch a sunset, so it was pretty good timing.
Almost immediately the wine made me feel better about my Jersey Shore moment with Jake (um, not to sound like an alcoholic or anything). I had no reason to beat myself up over it. Yes, I was technically still married, but there was absolutely no chance of reconciliation between us. As for the lack of protection, well, I’d made a mistake, but I couldn’t do anything about it now except learn from it and make sure I didn’t repeat it. And as for ruining my friendship with Jake, that was silly to even think about. We were both grown-ups, even if we didn’t always act like it. We were going to be fine. It wasn’t the end of the world. So thank you, Dad, for encouraging me to have a drink and thank you, Barefoot Winery, for the Reisling.
Once the sun set and the wine was gone, I collected my tablet, wine glass and empty wine bottle and walked back into the kitchen with intentions to go to bed … alone. I set the wine glass in the sink and the bottle on the counter and heard footsteps behind me. I turned around. It was Jake. He was standing at the entrance to the kitchen holding an empty beer bottle.
I had read the term “smoldering look” before in cheesy romance novels, but I had never experienced one myself. Even during The Summer of Jake and Roxie I couldn’t remember him ever looking at me quite like that. It was hot enough that I felt like I needed to shower again. I put my hands on the counter behind me and waited for him to speak because he looked like he had something to say.
“Hey,” he said quietly.
“Hi.”
He took a few steps forward, very slowly, until there was about a foot between us. He leaned forward to set his beer bottle on the counter behind me, pushing his chest up against mine in the process. When he straightened up and his eyes met mine again, they stayed there. He put a finger under my chin and tilted my face upward. A little sigh escaped from me. He tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear and then let his hand rest on my cheek. I leaned my head into his hand. He made me feel … and I know it sounds ridiculous, but he made me feel cozy. You know how good it feels to put on a pair of sweatpants straight from the dryer when they’re still warm? Jake made me feel like that.
With no urgency at all, he brought his face toward mine and kissed me slowly and softly. I leaned back into the counter, glad I had something to hold me up since I felt dizzy again.
“I’m going to bed,” he said quietly. His face was still so close to mine that I could feel his breath on my lips when he spoke.
“Me too,” I told him, basically talking right into his mouth.
“But I don’t want to go without you,” he said.
Thud. Sleeping alone was overrated anyway.
A few hours later (we weren’t in such a hurry this time), I was once again feeling satisfied, but ashamed. Jake was amazing. We were amazing. Together. But that whole I’m-a-married-whore thing kept nagging at me. What was I doing? I couldn’t be with Jake in any kind of long-term way. I knew that. Why was I being so stupid as to start something with him that I knew couldn’t last?
“Jake?” I asked quietly. I wasn’t sure if he was still awake or not. He was lying on his back beside me on his bed. I had been lying toward him with my head resting comfortably in the crook of his arm. It felt like the spot was made just for me. And it was so hard to pull myself away. But I did. I rolled over onto my back as well.
He sighed loudly like he knew what was coming. “Yeah.”
“Not that I don’t want to, but I don’t think we should do this again.”
“No?”
“I had a lot of fun. I love being with you. It’s just, you know.”
“No, I don’t know. What is it?”
“You know I’m still married.”
He turned his head toward me. “So you’re saying once your divorce is finalized, it’s okay for you to be with me?” The tone of his voice sounded like he was challenging me, like he knew the answer to the question already.
I sat up and leaned back on my hands. “I can’t say that. But I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have kissed you. It was entirely my fault, and I take the blame. Can we pretend this day never happened?”
“I think we can handle it. We’ve had a lot of practice pretending things don’t happen.”
I stood up. “I’m gonna go back to my room then.”
“No. Stay. You can go back to your room tomorrow.”
“Fine.” I lied back down and snuggled up against him. “I’ll go back tomorrow.”
Jake was right. We did have a lot of practice “pretending things don’t happen” and that’s probably why we managed to fall right back into our normal roommate routine without any glitches. He had a busier schedule than usual thanks to his blossoming boudoir business. He continued to give me $100 for every photo session like he had promised, and I was making quite a bit of money from them. I figured it was making up for my month of slacking.
I also stayed busy myself. The Good Life List Challenge #26 was to host a party where I made at least ten new recipes and The Fourth of July was scheduled to be the big day. When I wasn’t designing invites and scouring Pinterest for patriotic recipes and creative decor, I was going over the remaining GLL Challenges and trying to figure out how I was going to complete some of the most difficult ones. Like #4 – Go skinny dipping in someone else’s pool without their permission. How was a good girl like me going to pull off something like that?
Adam had miraculously been given the whole afternoon of the fourth off, so we invited over Allison and her family, some of the girls who had come to my divorce party, a few of Jake’s coworkers from The Bar and a couple of people Adam knew from the hospital.
We had a piñata for the kids, red, white & blue martinis for the adults, a bonfire and a whole lot of fantastic food made by yours truly. I even built a make-shift tiki bar for the occasion. Jake joked around and told me I could forget social work and go into party planning or catering instead.
It was about an hour before the guests were to arrive. I was in the kitchen dipping strawberries into white chocolate and blue sugar when Jake came in and snatched one of the freshly dipped strawberries and shoved it into his mouth before I could protest.
“Hey!” I yelled. I tried to swat his hand but I was too late. “No eating until the guests arrive!”
“I needed to make sure they were good before you tried to serve them,” he said with a smirk.
He didn’t know it, but he was messing with the wrong person. GLL Challenge #16 was to start a food fight, and I just so happened to have a great weapon sitting on the counter right next to me: a bowl of white fluff salad that was going to go over the red and blue Jell-O. He was still chewing the strawberry and smirking at me when I picked up a spoonful of fluff and flung it at him like a slingshot. I had better aim than I thought and hit him right on his chin. Go me!
He looked startled at first, then surprised, but then his expression turned mischievous as he grabbed the spoon from my hand. I backed away from the fluff bowl in fear.
“Jake,” I begged. “I spent an hour on my hair and makeup. Please don’t.”
He aimed it for my chest and a big glob of white fluff landed right in the middle of my cleavage and sunk down into my tank top.
“That was a three-pointer!” he yelled. “And the crowd roars.”
“Okay, you got me. But let’s play nice now. I really did spend a long time on my hair.”
“Oh no,” he said, shaking his head. “You can’t start a food fight and wimp out on me.”
He slung another spoonful and this time caught my shoulder, missing my hair by less than an inch.
“Seriously, Jake! Watch the hair!”
Before I could even clean up my shoulder, he hit me on my chest again. That was when I got pissed. I took the ponytail holder off my wrist and, very carefully, pulled my hair up, not taking my eyes off Jake for a second. I lunged for the spoon but I slipped on a bit of fluff and, like a total chick-flick cliché, went crashing into him, knocking us both to the floor. Jennifer Lopez would have been proud.
“Omigod!” I squealed, scanning his face and head for injuries. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? I’m so sorry!” I sat up, which was a bad move because it meant I was sitting right on top of him. And in my thin yoga pants I could feel everything. Damn!
Adam walked in the back door and saw us on the floor.
“What the hell?” he asked.
If my face wasn’t already red from the food fight, it was definitely red after being caught in a compromising position by my brother. I was mortified, but Jake just laughed.
“Your sister started it,” he said.
“Whatever,” Adam said looking annoyed. “Just clean it up and get your shit together. People are going to be here soon.”
When Adam walked out of the kitchen, Jake grinned at me. I tried to get up, but he put a hand on each of my hips to keep me in place. He pulled me down even closer to him and I could tell he was having as hard a time being in this position as I was. Pun intended.
“Your face is so red right now,” he said with a grin. “Are you sure you want to get off me? Or would you rather get off on me?”
I gasped at his nerve. Then I bit my lip. He had a point. I did not want to get up.