Drake busts his ass to pay for Presley’s rehab and all of Mia’s needs. If he has to maintain two jobs to keep himself a float, he’ll do it. I’ve tried to get him into the hustle game, showing him the fast cash he could make, but he wants nothing of it. He only wants to make a living the honest way, not taking advantage of idiots the way Jeremy and I do. He’s such a little Reggie sometimes, but he seems to forget Reggie is who taught Jeremy and I. He was and still is the ultimate hustler.
My Friday night starts off pretty crappy as I make my way to The Slab. I’m still pissed over my brother, but more so because Delilah has left and my entire world is being flipped upside down since she’s stormed into my life. I don’t go a single hour of every day without thinking about her. She’s on my mind constantly and it’s annoying. I’m Jake freaking Evans. I have girls dreaming of me, not the other way around.
I’m reading the closed captioning on the flat screen, trying to see if my team has won, when my phone vibrates in my pocket, letting me know I’ve received a new email. I swipe my finger across the screen and see the message is from Delilah. Ugh! I’m not sure I want to read this right now. I’m trying to get her out of my brain, but it’s no use. When it comes to that woman, I buckle every single time. She’s got this invisible hold over me and I’m recognizing I’ll do anything for her. Scary.
I start reading her email and smile.
Hi Jakey!
Ugh, I’m doing the charity grind for my mother. First, they auction off the prizes, then us women. The things I put up with from this woman. Anyway, I’m sitting at my assigned table, listening to a James Dean look-alike starting the events, and I can’t help but think of you. The benefit has you written all over it. Right down to my outfit and the 1957 Chevy Bel Air.
See you in a couple of weeks,
D
Ooohh, she’s got my interest now. The 1957 Chevy Bel Air is a car I’ve dreamt of having some day. It’s sleek, fast and tattooed on my arm. Then I notice her words right before the Bel Air distracted me. Outfit… interesting? I click on the attachment and wait for my phone to pull up the image.
When I look at the image on the screen, I nearly fall out of my seat. I could have died right then and there. And, man, it would’ve been a great way to go. Delilah, the sexiest woman I’ve ever met, is dressed as a 1950’s pinup girl. She wears the innocence of Betty Grable and oozes sex like Marilyn Monroe with a modern day edge—I am speechless.
I look over my shoulder, not wanting to share her photo with anyone and then move to the backroom to study every curve of her body. Her hourglass figure is dressed in a tight, red corset, black underwear-looking shorts, and a garter belt with fish-net stockings. She has dangerously high red heels on and the look on her face—yeah, it nearly kills me. Behind her is the Bel Air, the perfect accessory for such a hot fucking babe.
I dial her phone. I need to talk to her… now! She has to know what she’s done to me. What she’s doing to me. I don’t know what I’m going to say when she answers, but I have to hear her voice.
When the phone rings two more times and sends me to voicemail, I decide this time to leave a message. “Holy. Shit, D! You can’t send me a picture like that and not answer your phone. Fuck, if we weren’t best friends before, we sure as hell are now! Call me as soon as you get this message.”
I leave the bar as the craziest idea to date comes to my mind. I pick up my phone again, but this time it’s to make an appointment that’s long overdue.
Delilah
The benefit is moving at a snail’s pace as they walk through each and every item donated. I find myself hoping my dad will buy the car, but he doesn’t even look at it twice and it ends up going to an older gentleman who’s made his money in oil before retiring to Memphis years ago.
I’m picking at my fingernails, trying to suppress a yawn, when the potential dates are ushered onto the stage for the last part of the auction. We are herded like cattle as the twelve girls—oddly, half of them are dressed like me—are ushered onto the stage. The bid starts with an older lady who goes for a meager one hundred dollars and I feel sorry for her. Clearly people bidding have money, but they haven’t deemed her worth the extra funds. Sad, just sad.
All the other girls have been sold when my turn finally comes. I move out to the front of the stage as the auctioneer runs down my social resume. I really don’t hear anything he’s saying because most of it is extremely exaggerated by my mother.
“Okay, gentlemen, we’ll open the bid at one hundred dollars,” the auctioneer announces.
“Two hundred,” an older man shouts from the front. Gross.
“Two hundred fifty,” my daddy bids. He’s too sweet.
“Okay, two hundred fifty. Do I hear three hundred?” The auctioneer is looking amongst the crowd for the next bid when the gross guy pipes in again.
“Five hundred!” He licks his lips and sucks in a breath. Lord, please don’t let him win.
“Wow, Miss Delilah is popular tonight. Do I hear six hundred?”
“One thousand dollars!” I can barely see him, but Emerson Knox strolls from the shadows.
I haven’t seen him all night, and now that I do, a smile stretches across my face. It’s been two months since I’ve seen him. We’ve talked from the time of my return to Memphis and now he’s looking as perfect as he always does, wearing a fifties lettermen’s jacket, khaki pants and loafers with his sandy blonde hair combed neatly. Always put together and appropriate, Emerson hasn’t changed. There’s a small part of my heart aching because I really have missed him.
“One thousand dollars going once… twice… Sold to Mr. Knox for one thousand dollars!” The auctioneer is grinning from ear to ear, happy as a lark for all the money we’ve raised in the last few hours.
I’m walking to the stairs of the stage to meet Emerson when he beats me to it, meeting me up on stage. He’s takes the microphone from the auctioneer and addresses the crowd. “Hi, folks. Sorry for breaking up your evening, but I wanted to ask this special lady a question.” Emerson moves to me and my heart drops to the floor.
Please, don’t do this, Emerson. The only time a guy announces he’s going to ask a certain lady a question is when he’s proposing.
“I’ve had the privilege of knowing Miss Delilah for many years now, but none more important than in the last two. She’s a beauty and the perfect southern lady.” Emerson moves down to one knee while pulling a black box from his pocket.
Sweet baby Jesus, what am I supposed to do? Do I love Emerson? Sure, I loved him once, but do I love him now? I will never want for anything if I say yes. Emerson will be happy, my mother and father will be happy. I will do what I’m expected to do. Why am I so hesitant? Why don’t I want this to happen?
Jake.
The very thought of him brings passion to my body, but poison to my heart. I’ve grown feelings for Jake I’ve never known existed, however when the light shines on our relationship the next day, it’s not what I should have. Jake Evans is dangerous for my mind, body and soul. He will end up damaging me one way or another if I cross that line with him. If I tell him my true feelings, he won’t change. He’s said it a million times; whiskey and women are how he lives his life. I can’t tolerate that, not if I’ve chosen him over Emerson.
Looking at Emerson on one knee, holding that black box filled with a huge diamond ring, I begin to cry. Tears streak my cheeks and mascara starts to merge with the water as I let the tears fall.
“So, Miss Delilah, will you do me the honor of being my wife?”
The question is stagnant in the air, suffocating me. My heart is dying, knowing I don’t want him, but my mind has made the decision. With Emerson, I will have a future I can rely on.
I look into his blue eyes and reply, “Yes.”
He picks me up, swinging me around in the air, planting a kiss to my cheek and then my lips. I’m soon whisked off stage, only to be greeted by my mother and father, happy as the day I was born.
Panic strikes me inst
antly. Oh, God, what did I just do?
Chapter 13
Jake
Two days later, I’m lying in Becky’s chair as she runs the needle along my arm, filling, outlining and shading. I can’t wipe the stupid smile from my face. Becky has told me what an idiot I am to get another woman tattooed on my body, meaning a woman I actually know. She says that if it isn’t your mama, then it has no business being permanently inked on your skin. Little does she know, I hate my mom and would never put anything resembling her on my body—not ever.
Whenever I’m getting a tattoo, we always reminisce on how we met. The story always makes us laugh because we were both ridiculous.
It was a month after high school graduation and Jeremy had just gotten done cleaning house at the races. We were excited about his win and the fat stack of cash we’d won. We felt a little celebrating was in order, so after I took a few shots of whiskey, I spied Becky and her cousin Lydia checking us out. Jeremy took Lydia for a drive in the Challenger, which is code for he’s getting laid, and I proceeded to plow Becky in the back of her mom’s Tahoe. Apparently, I was commenting about her huge tits and hard ass while she proceeded to leave bite marks on my chest. It was a drunken night for both of us, and three days later, when I went to get my first tattoo, there was Becky. She turned as red as a tomato.
Three hours later, my tattoo is done. It’s a perfect replica of the photo Delilah has sent me in her pinup girl costume. The detail is unbelievable. It really looks like I am looking at the photo. Becky made it blend perfectly with my sleeve already tattooed on my arm, which makes it now complete.
Delilah completed me. Hmmm… that’s a strange thought.
I shake off my foreign feelings and pay Becky. I can’t wait to show Delilah my new tattoo. I know she’ll flip out at first, but soon, she’ll love it. How could she not? It’s perfect. It’s Delilah.
Delilah
“I can’t believe you’re getting married,” Darcie says from the other end of the phone.
We’ve been talking almost every day since I left Sulfur Heights. As horrible of a situation as it was, we bonded the day Presley overdosed. Now, instead of fighting like childish girls, we’re embracing our friendship like grown women.
“Have you told Jake yet?” The question is lingering, strangling me, and I want to answer, yet somehow I can’t. “I know Jake pretty well and I can assure you he hates being broad sided. It makes him crazy angry.”
I release the tension-filled breath from my chest. “I just want to tell him in person. For some reason, he doesn’t like Emerson and I’m sure if I were marrying someone else, he’d be fine with it.” I readjust my phone to my ear.
It’s no secret Jake hates Emerson. His hate is the main reason I’ve never told him about our separation this summer. Without knowing what the future held with Emerson, a certainty became evident that, if I told Jake then got back together with Emerson, he would’ve freaked out. It will kill me if I have to lose our friendship, but Jake has to see that this is what’s best for me. Emerson is the person I’m supposed to be with. He’s the perfect guy to my perfect life.
“Well, it’s your funeral,” Darcie snickers into the phone. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Can we change the subject now? How’s everyone? I miss Mia so much. The picture you sent me was adorable. She’s getting so big.” A twinge of heartache fills my chest.
I bonded with Mia for the month I was in Sulfur Heights. I basically cared for her full-time while Presley was going through her issues.
“Nothing’s changed since the last time I saw you except…” She starts to giggle into the phone and it sounds weird. Darcie doesn’t giggle like a little girl. “Reggie and I decided to get married.”
“WHAT!” I shout and bounce up and down with happiness. “When did this happen?”
“Well, we were lying in bed last night, talking about the future and shit. Then, he just leaned over and asked me. He said I was his future. After everything we’ve been through, our lives belong bound together and then he asked me to marry him.”
I can hear the happiness in her voice. It is something that my own voice would have lacked when I said yes to Emerson. This is what true love sounds like. She and Reggie are the picture perfect soul mates. No two people belong together more than Reggie and Darcie. I’ve witnessed his love for her daily. With the secret they have shared of what occurred with Darcie’s stepfather, I know he would risk everything he has to keep her safe. If that isn’t true love, I don’t know what is.
“Congratulations, Darcie. I am so happy for you. Do you know a date?”
“Yeah, and I kind of need your help. I really don’t know what the hell I’m doing, and since you’re planning a wedding yourself, I figured you could help me.” I let out a squeal, making Darcie cringe on the other end. “I take that as a yes. So… we are planning on a New Year’s wedding… in Las Vegas.”
Ugh, it’s horribly cliché, however it’s not my place to add my opinion. “Okay, well, at least we have time then.”
“Actually… we’re thinking this coming New Year’s.”
“Like in less than three months?”
“Yep.”
“Well, it’s good you chose Vegas because I don’t know if we could’ve pulled it off so soon. What do you want me to do?” I ask as I start running ideas through my head.
“I don’t know where to begin. Reggie gave us free reign over his credit card and told me anything I wanted. We will pay for everyone’s tickets to Vegas and hotel rooms as a Christmas gift. But Delilah,” her voice is scolding and motherly, “you can’t tell anyone. Not even Jake. This is a surprise we will share on Christmas.”
Presley comes to the forefront of my mind. No one has spoken to her since she checked into rehab. I don’t know if she will be able to handle a city as intense as Las Vegas; everything is so accessible and very dangerous for someone as fragile as Presley. “What about Presley?”
“I’m not even going to think about that because she’s going to be fine. I can feel it. She will pull through and be there when we get married.”
“You need to be prepared for her not to be. She—”
“No! I’m not going to listen to it, Delilah. Presley will be fine. We have to believe she will be fine. Okay?” I can hear the sadness and worry in her tone. She knows there’s a possibility of Presley sinking back into her old ways, but Darcie’s right; we have to be positive.
We end our conversation and I begin to really think about my future. Emerson and I have been together for the last two years. He’s exactly who I’ve expected to marry, however I’m not so sure I want to marry him. I know he’ll be good for me, treat me like a queen, but will he ever challenge me?
Our relationship thus far has been predictable and planned. I always know what to expect next. He is comfortable. I need comfortable. I’ve been comfortable all my life. But do I want it? The questions are bouncing around in my head, making it pound against my skull. I can’t think of this right now.
I shut all my feelings off and move to the computer, searching for venues, dresses, the whole nine yards. I’ve got a wedding to plan in Vegas.
Chapter 14
Jake
Last night was a drunken riot. I was planning on going home early, considering Drake was in a huff to get on the road to Memphis, but in walked the redhead and her friend. Several drinks later, and I was in her apartment doing what I do best. By the time I made it home, the sun was already out for several hours and my body was aching for sleep.
So when Drake screams at me to wake up and get the hell in the car. I do just that. I roll out of bed, grab some clothes from my dresser, toss them in a backpack and head down the stairs. Once we hit the interstate, I send my little southern angel a text.
Me: Heading your way
Delilah: Yay!
Me: We should be there by 9 AM. We will need to shower and clean up at the hotel.
Delilah: That’s fine. Just be there at 10 AM sharp! I am dying
to see Presley.
Me: Oh, I can guarantee we will be there by then. Drake’s internally freaking out. Getting all sweaty and shit.
Delilah: Understandable.
Me: What are you wearing?
Delilah: Jake Evans, I’m not sexting you.
Me: You started it.
Delilah: I most certainly did not.
Me: The dirty picture. Which was killer by the way. I showed everyone I know.
Delilah: It was hardly a dirty picture. Please tell me you’re joking.
Me: I’ll never tell
Delilah: Gotta go. Have a safe trip.
Me: Night, cupcake. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.
Delilah: Me, too, Jakey.
After we’ve been on the road for a few hours, I’m so excited to see Delilah that I can hardly contain my smile. She’s been constantly on my mind from the day she left this summer, and it drives me crazy. The more time I have to myself, the more she lives in my mind.
Is this what happens when you are best friends with a girl? All the feelings are new and confusing, but I know for sure I don’t want to lose Delilah. She’s too important to me. In what way, I’m still not sure, though. I close my eyes and drift off to sleep while Drake proceeds to cuss me out for not paying attention. He’s so anxious right now that I can’t deal with him.
Delilah
I’m sitting in my car, waiting for Drake and Jake to show up. I’m far too early, however I’ve had to get out of my house early as my mother is hung over and grouchy this morning. She’s been a nightmare since I became engaged to Emerson and is very unhappy I haven’t made a single decision regarding the wedding plans. She knows I’ve been looking at things on the internet, she just doesn’t know it’s for Reggie and Darcie.
Darcie and I have made some great headway with her plans, though. We’ve secured the chapel, and to my surprise, it isn’t a cheesy, Vegas-style as I’ve assumed it would be. We’ve even booked rooms at the MGM Grand and the bridesmaids’ dresses have been purchased.
Blind Love (Sulfur Heights Series) Page 15