When She Least Expected It

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When She Least Expected It Page 5

by Jeanette Lynn


  Skidding as I ran, I scrambled to my front door, slamming it to it to grip the front lock. Fiddling with the deadbolt longer than necessary, I made sure it was locked.

  Fingers slipping free, assured it was nice and locked with me tucked away inside, safe, I breathed a sigh of relief.

  Chest a little tight from my impromptu sprint stunt, I slunk down to the floor, gathering myself, and once ready to investigate this mystery a bit more, I crawled to the next window, wondering what he was up to.

  Whatever it was, one thing I knew for sure, he was mad, and it wasn't good.

  Will wasn't one to let things go lightly—if he was going to get me, he's going to get me. Running through our long string of fuckery, my lips twitched into a half smile. I have a tackle box full of gummy candy worms and bugs instead of fishing gear, to attest to that.

  I still don't know where he hid all of my real fishing gear, I thought with a resigned sigh, and the stubborn oaf isn't ready to tell me just yet. The puff of air I blew out, just thinking about it, was nothing short of dismayed, equal parts mirth and irked annoyance instantly filling me.

  Totally shouldn't have planted the stuffed animal that looked like Snuggles in front of him when he fell asleep on the porch swing that one time, in the first place, but, eh... I mean, I couldn't help it! He'd looked so sweet and innocent just lying there—feet up, mouth slightly slack—not a single trace of drool or a raucous snore coming from his snobbishly perfect self. Hmmph. He was practically begging for it, if you asked me. And what the hell is a woman supposed to do to fish around here? Hmm? He'll just hide my gear again as soon as I'm not looking if I replace it, and I'll be back to square one again—stubborn man!

  Eyes darting about, I scanned all the windows, but froze when I heard a thump from upstairs.

  Eyes widening until I thought they might bug before narrowing, a frown suddenly overtaking my features, I blinked. "What the hell?" Glancing up the staircase worriedly, my frown deepened into a scowl. “What the hell could- Oh god!” And I was back to scrambling. Tripping over my own feet in the process, I rushed over to the living room window and gaped, flabbergasted, sputtering as I spotted a ladder lined up with my bedroom window.

  Gah! He's already in here! I’m fucked! Doomed! Friggin’ done for!

  Trying to squeal as silently as possible, and failing horrendously, I ran through the backdoor, running as fast as my short assed legs could in the opposite direction of that telling ladder. About to round a corner, too late, I realized I’d been had, squealing like an idiot when as I was swiftly tackled by a giant, wet mass and wrestled to the ground.

  "What's the matter, Bit?" Will taunted as we rolled, entrapping me, grinning down at me victoriously. It wasn't a nice grin.

  Ooopsie... Someone is really mad and now I'm in trouble.

  Effectively cornered and trying to bluff, I laughed, the sound turning nervous as he straddled my hips, pinning mine with his, and kept me held in place. As Will made a human sandwich between us and the back lawn, my entire length soaked from his very wet clothes touching mine, I couldn’t help but note our proximity, and the squirming that itself invoked.

  "I thought you were going to use the ladder?" I asked, blinking up at him, trying to ignore the flushed feeling overwhelming me, feigning nonchalance on all front.

  "Nope," he replied smugly, "just wanted you to think that so you'd come out and play."

  Well frick a duck. "Uhm... well, you seriously got me," I squeaked out weakly. And when he just stared down at me, a smarmy yet unreadable look on his face, I gulped, hard, adding hopefully, "You can let me up now.”

  "No," he said slowly, a thoughtful look on his face. "It doesn't seem fitting, you know?"

  "Oh, I dunno ‘bout that. I thought it was completely fitting!" I argued eagerly at the blob grinning down, looming over me, my vision pretty damned blurry from my glasses flying off. "Totally scared the piss out of me. Heh-heh. In fact, you might want to get up if you feel any warmth near your groin.” Lowering my voice to a confidential whisper I nodded and told him, “It could be, you know... me.”

  "Ugh! Bit! That's just gross," Fancy Pants grumbled disgustedly, shaking his head at me, trying to fight the laugh bubbling up in him at my outrageous comment.

  I could feel him shaking above me as he tried to hold it in. It was no use. I gave it a minute and he’d crack.

  And I know, I chastised myself, since I’d never deign to do so aloud. I know! Ewww, Tabs, that's sick! Peeing, really? You're gonna go with peeing? I did, had, have done before, and probably will continue to do so in the near and not that far flung future.

  And you know what, self? Hey! I was desperate here, alright. And if knowing claiming to be a Peter-pees-a-lot would get him to let me go, I'd take one for the team. Self-preservation truly comes before my own dignity, after all.

  "Now I have to do something back to you for pantsing me, though..." he mused idly, like he wasn’t squashed atop me, wet bits to now wet Bit, thinking aloud.

  "No, you don't!" I said on a startled squeak, turning beet red. Wiggling and squirming fiercely, I bucked against him, sending him, startled, garbling a shocked shout, flailing, managing to knock him off with another well-timed buck.

  I would have gotten up to scramble away if he hadn't leapt on my back and wrapped his arms around me. “Oomph.” And there we went, headlong through the grass.

  "No!" I shouted, giving his overgrown ass a butt bump, and tried to crawl forward.

  "Bit!" Will gritted out after a moment. Once he’d pressed closer, picking up on the slight tremor in my hands and the way my heart was beating frantically, thumping wildly, obvious with his chest to my back, pressed together tight the way we were. I couldn’t have been anymore damn obvious, had I been wearing a freaking sign.

  Forgetting to breathe, I froze when he stopped and released me, stilling, rolling off of me and on to his back.

  Half curled into myself, my ass still up in the air, I slumped where I lay. "It was stupid. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that, it was stupid," I babbled, ducking my face, flushing crimson.

  "Hey?" he said after a moment.

  I didn’t- couldn’t- wouldn't answer him. I was embarrassed. I didn't want to look at him right this second. I didn't want him to see me naked, exposed like this, bared before him—ripe and open for his revenge.

  I want- I wanted... Holy fucking hell.

  "I wasn't really going to do it," he said after a moment. "Bit? Look at me."

  I didn't. Couldn’t.

  He was quiet for a moment.

  Biting at the inside of my cheek nervously, I looked up then, catching his sudden shift, surprised when he bent closer, leaning in, and his hand brushed against my cheek. It was light, a feather soft touch against my skin, and yet I felt the weight of it. The feeling lingered, that gentle brush, tickling my skin.

  Surprised by the rather intimate touch, I stared up at him, startled.

  He smiled down at me a little, closer now, and stroked my face again.

  "Will?" I murmured quietly, more than taken aback.

  Our eyes met; his bored into mine and we stayed like that for an indefinable space of time, staring deeply, our eyes locked in some kind of intimate staring contest. This wasn’t as romantic as they make it out to be in books and movies, and yet... I was definitely feeling something. Intangible, undefinable, definitive, but this sense of connection, of... hell if I knew, and yet it was there.

  Will swooped down swiftly and kissed me, our lips meeting in a sweet, simple kiss as his hand glided across my cheek yet again. And then his fingers slipped lower, down along my neck and into my hair, holding me in place as he suddenly deepened our lip lock.

  I kissed him back, melting into him. His mouth mastered mine, taking the lead. Him, the kiss, it overwhelmed me, and yet I wanted more, my senses zinging to life.

  His tongue brushed across my lower lip and I felt that gentle brush all the way to my core, heat rushing through me from something so simple, my body firi
ng to life with want. I opened up for him, my tongue brushing against his as he pressed himself against me, pushing into me, laying me back down into the grass to tumble atop me as he skillfully ravished my mouth.

  I didn't know how long we laid there, exploring each other’s lips in a perfect kiss, disentangled hands slowly exploring, tentative but eager, when he stopped suddenly, breaking our intimate connection.

  Breathless, face flushed, lips fuller looking than normal, Will swallowed hard and looked at me, panting for a moment, staring at my lips for a minute longer before he shivered and closed his eyes.

  Will pulled away from me and I felt it then, both physically and emotionally, as he put on a fake expression, leaning back and away, and played with a blade of grass.

  "That shouldn't have happened," he said, a small, playful smile on his lips I knew to be put-on. I stared at him, dumbfounded. It wasn’t lost on me, the fact he couldn’t quite meet my eyes.

  Unable to feel any more shocked if he’s kicked me in the face, I cleared my throat awkwardly, hurt by his rebuff, but not really all that surprised.

  Glancing around, fingers curling in the grass—lest I make a fist and pound it into his stupid, I-secretly-think-I’m-better-than-you face—I spotted my glasses and picked them up, cleaning them off on my shirt to put them back on. Thoughts assailed me—none of them nice, and yet they were all so damned truthful it hurt. He doesn't want to be here. He's only friends with me because everyone hates his snobbish guts. He doesn’t really like me-like me, does he? No, I’m just convenient, for now...

  "I, uh- I don't- I want- Look... I'm not planning on being here for-” he said after a moment, stumbling on the words.

  "It's not that big of a deal," I cut him off, acting otherwise. As if I couldn’t give two shits about the whole thing, I laughed a little and got up, dusting myself off briskly and making my way towards my house. "It's not like you meant anything by it," I went on, tossing it out there casually. "You were just trying to get even for me pantsing you, right?" My guts twisted as I lied and tried to play it off. Careful to keep any hurt out of my voice, I refused to be the weak, stupid female in front of him. I won't be that chick.

  "Uhm, yeah," he mumbled hoarsely.

  "Well, it didn't work," I added, smiling in his general direction, though I made sure I wasn't looking directly at him, afraid to make eye contact—afraid he might see—"you're a terrible kisser, Willy. If you're going to get even with me, at least make it good." Gripping the backdoor’s handle to jerk the door open harder than necessary, I didn't look back as I went inside.

  Hah! I crowed once I'd closed my door, locked it and slid to the ground on the floor in front of it.

  Take that, you insensitive asshole!

  Kiss the shit out of me, rock my world and act like it was nothing!

  I put my head in my hands and tried to pretend the slight sniffle I'd developed was allergies and the three or four tears that tracked down my cheeks were just residual from my water fight with Will.

  Will, I thought sadly. When did he start meaning something to you, Tabs? And how the hell are we going to fix it, I thought morosely.

  I really needed to start getting out more. Gah! Just... ugh. When did I start falling for the prick next door?

  Maybe I really should start dating again...

  De Nile Is Not Just A River...

  "Are you avoiding me?"

  "Are you avoiding me?" I retorted.

  "No." He walked up the dock, stopping right beside me and, adusting the seat of his pants, plopped down next to me.

  "I see you've found your fishing crap," he said after a long moment, the silence between us getting downright stifling. Watching my expression for a reaction, anything, I spied him through my peripherals, studying me, smiling faintly as he angled his face towards mine, though he looked mighty damned confused. Or was that guilty? Meh. Don’t care.

  "Brilliant, really. I never would have looked on top of the garage fridge for it,” I admitted quietly, feeling a wash of melancholy washing over me, my voice low and subdued. “I never use the damned thing."

  "How'd you find it, then?" he asked, tugging his pant legs up and pulling his tennis shoes off to dip his feet in the water.

  Pretending this was all fine, and having him this close didn’t bother me in the least, I shrugged and checked my line. "Elliot went hunting last weekend. He offered me the extra meat he didn't have room for. I jostled the fridge when I was shoving meat into the freezer and accidentally knocked them down."

  "I wanted to talk about what happened last week," he began awkwardly, but that was the farthest thing on my to-do list. Actually, if I had a list to put it on, it would make the things we shall never ever discuss, ever, list.

  "Nothing to talk about.” I made a big show of fiddling with my tackle box, suddenly very interested in its contents. “It's not that big of a deal."

  "I think it was to you,” he admitted softly, so softly I wanted to smack him with my fish rod because it made it a little hard to breathe when he starts talking like that—like he really cares—“and I think you're avoiding me because of it. I don't like it.”

  Perceptive bugger, ain’t he.

  "I miss my friend." He sighed the words quietly, his toes curling in towards the bottoms of his feet at his admission.

  I’d missed him too, but hell if I about to admit it.

  "What are you going to do when your exile is over and Daddy lets you come back to your fancy schmancy old life, you gonna miss me, then?" I asked instead.

  His silence was answer enough to me. No, he most certainly was not—not even a little bit.

  I was just a way to pass the time until he has an out.

  "You shouldn't flatter yourself like you do. Thinking I'd be upset over a hoity toity who's only going to be here until he's let out of time out," I pointed out sharply.

  "Ouch!" he muttered, glancing away, frowning at the lake. "I guess I deserved that."

  And more.

  "I don't see what the big deal is, anyway. It was such a little thing," I said casually, shifting and pulled my line in."

  "It was?" he blurted, squinting in my direction, suddenly confused. Shutting the lid on my tackle box, I got up, quickly collecting the rest of my crap, and began walking resolutely home.

  "Hey, wait up!" he called after me, trying to cram his feet into his shoes.

  Feigning a sudden bout of selective hearing, I ignored him and kept going.

  "Bit! Wait, damn it! I want to talk to you!"

  He caught up to me, to my annoyance, only a few feet behind me when he started talking again. "Look, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. Uhm, with what I did. I just... I don't want- It would never work, you know? You and I are completely different and- And-"

  And you don't want to sully yourself with the weird chubby chick next door...?

  Yep, got it. Message received, loud and clear. Where's a rock to crawl under when you needed one?

  "It wouldn't work. You are absolutely right," I agreed, stepping away from him in a way that couldn’t be taken wrong—back away from this lady, my posture screamed. Fancy Pants hung back just enough after that to let me know the message had been received, if only in the sense his body language was responding to mine. Back off, buddy, you’re too close, it warned. When we reached my porch steps, I could breathe a little easier when, yet again, he added a bit more distance. This time, when I walked up the steps and opened my door, I set my gear inside.

  "It wouldn't? I mean, you agree?" Will finally found his words, his mouth working there for the better part of my trek up the lawn.

  "Of course," I told him quickly, nodding thoughtfully.

  "Uhmm... can I ask why not?" he asked after a brief pause, frowning over at me.

  Glancing towards him, holding his gaze, I smiled at him with as big a smile as I could muster. "You're a cocky prick with a tiny peter," I told him sweetly. "You're right, it would never work. You're too... small."

  "You little...” Will’s
face flushed puce and he stiffened visibly, and then he was storming up the porch steps, until we were toe to toe, his not so smarmy anymore, thunderous glower focused solely on little ol’ me. “That's not what I meant and you-”

  "Believe me, you don't have to explain a thing. I know what it looks like." Glancing down towards his groin pointedly, I leaned in and whispered, "I've seen it."

  Will jerked back as if I’d just bitch slapped him. Pulling back and stepping into the safety of the house, I closed the door firmly on his stunned face.

  Hah!

  And this whole thing just seemed to bring home my point, solidify my earlier decision to avoid Will at all costs. I needed to stick to my guns on the whole forget Fancy Pants thing.

  Phase one of my plan to forget Will:

  1. Insult him thoroughly (just because) and set us back on friendly grounds.

  Very important.

  Check, I thought, ignoring his tirade against my front door.

  Phase two...

  2. Start dating again.

  Now I just had to find someone willing to go out with me.

  Well, crap. This might actually be tougher than I’d thought.

  ****

  "You know, if your car is worth as much as you act like it is, you could sell it and probably open up a small accounting business with the money you make off the sale. You said that's what you did before, right?"

  "And again, I say NO! The car stays!"

  "Fine. Then what are you going to do for a job? Your funds are next to nothing and your cupboard looks like Mother Hubbard’s."

  I got an eye roll for the Mother Hubbard thing, and he could roll them eyes all he liked, for all I cared, still wasn’t going to put food on the table.

  "Do you know anyone who's hiring?" he asked lazily, right before he snatched a fried potato off of my plate."

  "Dude!” I scoffed, and went to slap his hand away when he would have gone in for another. “Get your own, these ones are mine, you pig!"

 

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