by Laura Ward
I walked closer to him. “What do you mean?”
“Sunshine, what can I do to make things better for you? We’ve become close friends. I care about you—and that’s never happened to me before. If there is something I can do to help, I’ll do it.” Jon’s eyes searched my face.
I held my breath for a moment. This was my chance. Could I ask him? Should I? I stared to my side at the lake and blew out the breath trapped in my lungs.
Come on, Daisy. Grow up and live your life. Ask him.
“We made a deal. You’re helping me convince my parents that I can move away.” I licked my lips and wiped my clammy palms on my jeans. “Would you be willing to expand that deal a little?”
Jon’s lips pursed. “Expand, how?”
I pulled on my fingers, twisting and wringing them in front of me. “The other day at the pool you told me that I need to trust myself and believe in who I am.”
He nodded, encouraging me to go on.
“The problem is, I don’t trust myself. It’s been too many years of hearing how much I lacked.” He opened his mouth as if to rebuke, so I held up my hand, palm out. “Stop. I know what you’re about to say. And even if it wasn’t true, it did get under my skin. For some reason, I’m starting to believe you. When you say I look pretty or s-s-sexy,” I stumbled over the last word. “I think maybe you aren’t lying.”
“I’m not lying, Daisy. You are gorgeous. Inside and out.” Jon’s voice was strong and confident.
“So here I am, trying to go to New York City of all places, and I’m eighteen years old, and I’ve never been kissed.” My last words hung in the air between us.
Jon closed his eyes and cursed. “You’ve never been kissed, Sunshine? How is that even possible?”
I shrugged. “In high school, I got hit on, but it was just dirty come-ons. The guys were joking with me. They weren’t serious.”
Jon’s eyebrows raised high. “They weren’t joking, Daisy. That’s how guys hit on girls when they don’t know what they’re doing. They make it seem like they don’t care, but they do. A girl like you—none of them would think they were even in the same class.” His laugh was hard. “’Cause they weren’t.”
“Will you show me? Teach me? So that when I get to New York I won’t meet the wrong kind of guy and end up hurt.” I placed my hand over his heart. “I know you’ve been with lots of girls. You’re experienced with this stuff, and you’re the only one I trust. Think of it as my birthday gift?”
Jon turned and walked a few steps away. When he faced me again, he scrubbed his hands down his face and groaned. “I don’t know the right thing to do here, Sunshine. I know what I want to do, but I know it’s wrong at the same time.”
“How can it be wrong to help your friend? That’s all this is.” I broke eye contact and looked at my feet. “Unless I was reading this wrong? I thought you might be slightly attracted to me, but maybe I made a mistake.” I looked back up, my face burning hot.
Jon’s eyes widened. “Daisy, you light me up inside. My body is in a constant and highly uncomfortable state of arousal around you.” He held his hands out to the sides, and my eyes traveled over his body. “But your brother would murder me. Scratch that. All the males in your house would take pleasure in my long and painful death.”
“Jon, please. Nobody has to know. Hell, I don’t want anyone to know that I need help learning to be around guys and how to kiss.” My chin trembled uncontrollably. My God, this was the most vulnerable I ever felt.
Jon’s large hand rubbed back and forth along the top of his head. He looked up at the sky, over at the lake, anywhere but at me.
“I get that you’re torn right now. But if it helps you make your decision, know that you are always who I dreamed would be my first kiss—” Jon pulled me into his arms, cutting off my words with his mouth, his firm but soft lips finding mine. His hands held my face, and my hands clutched the sides of his shirt.
He broke the kiss before I could feel the warmth of his tongue, of his taste in my mouth. Something I fantasized about all summer.
“You’re sure?” Jon asked.
“More, please. Don’t stop, don’t stop.” I begged, moving onto my tiptoes and pressing my lips against his.
A gruff sound, low and long rumbled in Jon as he opened his mouth. I followed suit, my lips moving along with his and when his tongue slipped in and met mine, I shivered. This was magical. Out of this world. My first kiss was with my dream guy. Even if it never went further than this, no birthday gift would ever be better.
We kissed and kissed, tongues tangling and dancing, lips nibbling and sucking. When we pulled away, dragging in deep breaths, both of our lips were puffy. I giggled, my fingers running along the edges of my mouth.
“Thank you, Jon. That was an amazing first kiss.” I smiled shyly up at him.
He dragged his nose along the edge of mine. “That was an amazing kiss, period. Kissing might be a hidden talent of yours.”
I laughed softly and wrapped my arms around Jon’s waist, resting my chin on his broad chest. “So can I get a few more lessons? Just to make sure I have it down pat? As friends.”
Jon nodded, his face somber. “That’s how it has to be. Friends.”
Narrowing my eyes and pursing my lips, I gave him a speculative glance. “But just to be clear, friends who kiss once in a while?”
Jon growled and lifted me into his arms. “Fuck, yes.”
His lips found mine, and I sucked on his tongue. I might never have kissed a guy before, but I was a picking it up like a pro. Jon moaned into my mouth, and it only spurred me on. I sucked on his lower lip and then brought my mouth to his. I kissed him like I might never get the chance again.
And he kissed me like I was his treasure.
At eighteen years old, by the lake, I began to feel good in my own skin. It was a start, but if kissing Jon was a part of the process, then adulthood was looking damn good.
Chapter Eight
Jon
I LEFT MY bar exam study course with a motherfucker of a headache. Daisy was working late at her job, so I didn’t have a good meal to look forward to. Who was I kidding? It was never about the food with that girl. Her company and her friendship filled some kind of void I never knew I had. Being around someone so kind, so giving, and yet so fucking sexy was the highlight of all my days.
I unlocked the apartment door just as Mark/Matt came out of my mom’s room.
“Who the fuck are you?” he snarled at me.
The dipshit had the nerve to look pissed to see me. I had about five inches and fifty pounds on him. He stood shirtless, top button open on his jeans and gut hanging out. Mom had amazing taste in men.
“I live here. Who the hell are you?” I placed my bag by the door and walked into the kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge.
“Peg,” Matt/Mark the fuckwad yelled. “You live with a guy? What the hell?”
“No baby,” Mom answered, walking out of her room as she tied the ends of her robe together. “This is my kid, Jon.” She didn’t look at me. She only focused on the dude.
He reared back, a look of disgust on his face. “Aren’t you a little old to live with your Mama, boy?”
I charged at him, poking my finger into his chest. “Don’t you call me boy. You hear? Never. You speak to me, you speak with respect. You got me?”
“Jon!” Mom called out. “Stop it right now!”
“I don’t need this shit. I don’t need some little punk all up in my face.” Matt/Mark grabbed a stained t-shirt and pulled it over his head. Walking back into Mom’s room, he came back out quickly, boots on, cigarettes and keys in his hand.
“Don’t go, baby. Please. Jon will go visit his friends. You don’t need to leave.” Mom begged, pulling at his arms.
Mark/Matt shook her off, giving me the finger before slamming the door behind him.
“Look what you did,” Mom spat out. “This is my home, not yours. Don’t you dare talk to my friends that way.”
I grasped the back of my neck. She would never change. “Why, Mom? Why do you hate me?”
Her mouth dropped open. “Hate you? I’m pissed at you now, but I don’t hate you. Why would you think that?”
I laughed, dark and pained. “Where do I start? Why would you let that guy speak to me that way? Why haven’t you ever defended me? Why didn’t I ever come first? Why did you let them hurt me?”
Her eyes filled with tears and she dropped her head into her hands. I took that as my answer.
Whatever.
Walking into my room, I headed straight for the closet, ripping clothes off hangers and shoving them into a bag.
“I’m out. I’ll be back for the rest of my stuff later.”
“Let me explain.” Her weak voice turned my stomach.
“Not anymore, Mom. I’m done.” Just like Matt/Mark I slammed the door behind me, and headed straight into the summer night.
~~~
“Dude, I’m so sorry. Things are tight here. We have no room.” Ricky looked distraught, his hands in fists at his sides. My lifelong friend was looking more and more badass each day. Verging on dangerous. He wore faded and ripped jeans, a white undershirt that showcased his many tats, and had grown his black hair long, often wearing it in a low ponytail. Hell, if I didn’t know him, he’d scare the shit out of me.
We stood in his living room, his family spread out on couches and chairs. I’d never actually spent the night at Ricky’s, but I figured I’d ask. Growing up, Ricky and I were never the hosts, always the guests. Ricky’s family was Hispanic and very close knit. I didn’t know them well, but I knew his father was in a wheelchair. I looked across the room at his dad. Pedro never came to a football game, graduation, or awards assembly. Recently, I found out why. Ricky’s dad was a quadriplegic. He couldn’t move anything but his head. And the reason behind it haunted Ricky to his core. It wasn’t every day that a man tried to save someone’s life, and almost lost his own in return.
One decision. That’s all it takes for everything to change. For you and everyone you care about.
Ricky’s mom was in the kitchen cleaning the dishes. As I scanned the room, I felt like an idiot. Why had I even put him in this position by asking if I could crash here for the night? This tiny two-bedroom apartment could barely fit the five people that lived here.
Ricky changed so much since high school. He attended classes at the local community college since he had to turn down his scholarship to IU. He couldn’t move to Bloomington and leave his mother on her own. His father’s injury left Ricky unable to play football in college or party on the weekends like his buddies. Instead, his life was filled with responsibility, working multiple jobs to support his family.
“Ah, Juan!” Ricky’s mother came out of the narrow, galley kitchen wiping her hands on a towel. “Come, sit. I made you a plate of chicken and rice. Por favor.”
“No, madre Ana, muchas gracias, pero no.”
“Si, Juan.” She led me to their table by the hand. While I hadn’t ever seen Ricky’s father, his mom attended everything. Every game. Every school activity for all three Martinez children. Ana Martinez loved her children and worked as hard as Ricky did to take care of them.
I felt guilty as fuck eating their food, but it was so damn good.
Ricky pulled out another chair and sat next to me. “So, did you finally let your mom have it?”
With Dean’s kind, loving, and intact family, and Landon’s seemingly picture perfect one, I never opened up to the guys about my own childhood. I’d hinted about it, but we were men. Sharing wasn’t our thing.
I always told Ricky just a little more. Especially on our road trip, now that I knew what he was going through and the demons he was battling. We each shared our pain and our grief for what might have been. We missed having a relationship with our fathers. That hole left an indelible mark on our lives. Our relationships with our moms changed in different ways because of it.
I swallowed my bite of chicken and took a drink of water. “Not really. I mean I asked her why the men she slept with always came first, but I didn’t get into details.”
Ricky nodded. “You thinking about telling her why you’re hurt?”
I shrugged, moving the rice around my plate. “You think there’s a point? Can’t change the past.”
Ricky blew out a breath. “Don’t I know it? But we can fix the future. That’s what I’m trying to do.”
I winced. “I still think that’s a bad, bad idea man.” Confronting the girl who put his father in that wheelchair would be torture of the worst kind. Shit, I’d endure thirty more years of my mom’s boyfriends over that any day. The mental fuck Ricky would experience would be a hell of a lot worse. At least Mom’s men came and went. There wasn’t anything Ricky could do to get his dad out of that chair.
“Let it go,” he growled.
I threw my hands up in front of me. “It’s gone. And I hear you. I think the only way to fix my future is to get the hell out of this town and start fresh somewhere else.”
I placed my dishes in the sink and ran water over them. “Gracias, madre Ana.” I kissed Ricky’s mom on the cheek and slapped him on the back. “Night, man.”
Ricky frowned. “You getting a motel room for the night?”
“Stop worrying about me or I’ll think you’ve grown a vagina.”
Ricky shot me the finger and pushed me out the door. I laughed until I got into my truck and started the engine. Damn. I had money, but I needed to save every penny for school. I could shower and change at the gym in the morning.
I reversed out of the parking lot and headed to the fields across from the lake. No one would bug me there and I could sleep in my truck.
It sucked, but it wasn’t the first time I was forced to sleep elsewhere because of my mom and her guys. At least this time, I’d left of my own accord.
Chapter Nine
Daisy
“ARE YOU SURE we’re alone?” Jon asked, our fully clothed bodies entangled on my bed.
I licked my dry lips. “Yes, I’m positive.”
I wasn’t waiting for permission anymore. Reaching between us, I slid his zipper down. His moan filled my ears as my hand found him, hard and hot, waiting for me.
I stroked up and down, watching Jon’s eyes. They started out flared and then grew hooded as I continued.
“Ah, fuck, Daisy. Harder, do it harder.” Jon’s voice was gravelly, and while he sounded like he hurt, I think it was the good kind that would only get better as we continued.
As I pumped him in my hand, I felt my core throb. I scissored my legs, looking for a way to release the pressure building in me, too.
Something was keeping me from getting closer to where I needed to touch, or for Jon to touch.
“Sunshine, that’s so good. I’m gonna… I’m gonna…”
Boom.
I fell onto my bedroom floor, face first, nose smooshed into the itchy carpet.
Dear God, that hurt. I’d never been more thankful that my sister was away at college. Looking down, my blanket had wrapped around my legs, and as I pulled free, I hit the ground.
I flipped onto my back, gasping for air like a fish on land. The whole thing was a dream. I pressed my cool hand to my warm chest and willed my heart rate to slow.
These sex dreams might be the death of me.
Dammit, Jon.
~~~
Three more minutes and then you can walk. Three, just three. Maybe two. Oh, crap. It’s hot out. Why did I decide to start exercising in the summer? Oh, yes. Food. I keep eating all the food. Pretty soon my ample ass and boobs will not be cute to Jon. They’ll just be gross.
My friend Jon. That was funny. We hadn’t kissed since my birthday, Monday night. Three nights passed with only text messages, and that was not the least bit funny. Saturday was my birthday party, so I was hoping—okay, praying like crazy—that we could sneak in a kiss or two or eight at some point.
I slowed my run to a walk. A few feet in front of me was a truck
that looked just like Jon’s. I grabbed the can of mace that Dad attached to my key chain and flipped the lid open. I crept around the driver’s side of the truck, mace pointed straight in front of me. Peering in the window, the cab was empty. Now I was worried. The IU baseball cap on the passenger seat was definitely Jon’s.
“Jon!” I called. “Are you here?”
“Daisy?” Jon’s voice called from behind me, and I whipped around, finger on the mace trigger.
“Don’t shoot!” Jon yelled, and I startled as I saw him standing on the bed of his truck.
I placed my hand over my rapidly beating heart. “Oh, you scared the shit out of me.”
“Sorry, Sunshine.” Jon rubbed his hands down his face. “I’m groggy as hell. Just woke up.”
I walked around to the back of his truck and looked over the edge. Jon had a sleeping bag, pillow, and duffel laid out.
“Why did you sleep out here?” I asked.
Jon shook his head. “Long story. Got into a fight with my mom. Didn’t want to spend the money I’d saved on a motel room with school coming up. Thought about it last night, though. I’m going to look for long-term housing options today.”
Jon folded up his sleeping bag and pillow. Popping a mint into his mouth, he hopped down with his duffel slung over his shoulder. “What are you doing out here at five-thirty in the morning?” His eyes traveled up from my shoes, to my running shorts, to my fitted sports tank.
“Trying to get in better shape.” I pointed to my cherry red face, covered in sweat. “I suck at it.”
Jon tilted his head. “You’re in perfect shape. But exercise is good. I’ll run with you anytime.”
I scrunched up my nose. “That sounds like less fun than other things we could be doing.”
Jon’s eyes flared, but he took a step back. “Daisy,” his voice was a warning.
“Jon,” I teased, my eyebrows lifted in challenge. “We have a deal.”