Rush

by Violet Vaughn

  When I arrive at our simple ranch-house rental, Casey flies out the door and starts talking.

  “I’ve missed you so much! Oh, my God, you got thinner. Is that a new shirt? Whoa, what a cool car. I’ll help you carry stuff.”

  I chuckle as she talks a mile a minute. I answer, “Me too, no, yes, I know, thanks.”

  Casey shakes her head at me. “Sorry, it’s just great to see you.”

  I hug her tight. “It’s great to be back.”

  “Did you talk to your dad?

  “I did. His first day back as part time went well.” My dad gave up his career as a physician a few years ago to work in administration at a hospital. “His speech is almost back to normal.”

  “I think it’s great he decided not to retire yet. Being around people will really help him get back to one hundred percent.”

  “That and keep him out of my mother’s hair for a few more years.”

  Casey blows a curl out of her face, and her feet crunch over the gravel as she carries a big box of canned and packaged goods. “Your mother snuck this in the car, didn’t she?”

  “Yup, along with her sugar cookies for you.”

  “What? And you’re just telling me now?” Casey drops the box at the front door and jogs back to my car.

  I bring my backpack to my room, and when I return to my car Casey is sitting on the tailgate with the cookie container open and in her lap. Crumbs are around her mouth. “I’ve died and gone to heaven. Your mom is the best.”

  I think about the card full of cash I discovered my dad had slipped in my backpack. All this time I let my parents’ disappointment with my decision to snowboard instead of going to graduate school keep me at arm’s length from letting them in, and these gestures drive home how foolish I was. They may not have agreed, but they’ve never stopped loving me.

  “Yeah, my parents rock.”

  “And so does your brother.” Casey walks around my Land Rover, inspecting it. “Is he still drop-dead gorgeous?”

  “Funny you should ask that. He mentioned he thinks you’re hot.”

  “Really?” Casey gets a faraway look in her eyes, and I remember how Christian was her first crush. It’s cute now, but at the time I was so mad.

  “Um, Earth to Casey. Jason?”

  She snorts. “I know. But if anything ever happens with us, I’m so calling Christian now that I know he thinks I’m pretty.” She winks at me, but I’m not sure she’s really teasing.

  The trunk door shuts with a solid thunk, and we make our way in with the last load. I glance out at the mountains. There are a couple trails with man-made snow, and I long to hop on my board and ride. In two weeks I’ll begin training.

  The scent of cinnamon is coming from the kitchen. I ask, “Are you baking apple pie?”

  “Yes, I’m making us dinner. We have so much to catch up on, and I thought it would be nice to drink wine and hang out tonight.”

  “That sounds wonderful.” I plop down on the sofa with a whoosh. Being here seems so right. I only hope I feel the same way after coffee tomorrow.

  ***

  I wake well before the sun. Nervous about seeing Derrick, and still operating on East Coast time, I bolt out of bed. Not much exercise in the last three days has me on edge and my body full of excess energy. The light flips on and bathes my room in pale yellow. I really need to run before meeting him, and I find my workout clothes.

  Pacing the living room isn’t really the best option, so I drop to the floor and do a series of exercises until dawn breaks and I’m damp with sweat. Donning my hat and gloves, I slip out of the house to avoid waking Casey.

  My breath is frosty and I start with a slow jog. It doesn’t take long before my lungs are burning from lack of oxygen. I keep a slow pace and focus on long strides. The stretch of my muscles and the rhythm of my feet tapping on the dirt shoulder of the road soothe my nerves, and I fall into the zone that lets me think.

  Derrick. He’s going to explain to me what Paul meant, and curiosity is killing me. While I’m not sure we didn’t start off like Paul described, I know we didn’t end that way. I’ve had enough time to remember all the little things Derrick said. The one that keeps coming back to me is him saying I wasn’t like other girls.

  So the question is—Can I forgive him for objectifying me in the beginning? Is that something that should be forgiven, or does it speak volumes about the kind of man Derrick is? Although I did the same thing, didn’t I?

  Somehow as things heated up, they also changed between us. Maybe giving in a little was because he was doing the same thing for me? I’m not one to let anyone tell me what to do. I do things because I want to. I wanted to do things for Derrick, and I think he wanted to do things for me.

  A car is coming, and I move to the snowy section of land further from the road. It’s harder to run, and I lift my steps higher to keep from twisting an ankle. I shake my head and clear the thought. I need to let him tell me the whole story the way he wanted to before I left. Then I can make decisions about us.

  But before I chase Derrick out of my mind, my body tempts me to replay an intimate scene, and my skin tingles with the memory. I push myself a little harder and finish my run with my lungs screaming in pain and my core begging for release.

  I placate myself with the thought that at least I’ve burned enough calories to splurge on a bagel. I smile at my inner justifications and strip for a long, hot shower.

  Chapter 31

  At eight forty-five, I can’t wait any longer. I flip off the TV and say, “I’m out of here.” Casey comes out of the kitchen and gives me a hug. Her light floral scent wraps around me and tamps down my anxiety.

  “Listen and give yourself time to process what he says.” She steps back and surveys my low-rise jeans and shirt that just meets the hem. “You look great.”

  “Thanks.”

  Cold air blasts my face as I walk toward my car. Winter is here, and the sky is clouding up with a storm on the way. The beep of my car alarm makes me smile. I love my Land Rover, and I enjoy the way I sit high on the road now.

  The engine purrs when I turn the key, and gravel crunches as I back out of the driveway. The heat flows over me, and by the time I get to town I’m comfortably warm.

  I locate a metered spot by the cafe and parallel park in it with ease. Change clinks into the machine just as Derrick pulls up behind me. The smile on his face radiates through the windshield, and I guess he’s laughing at my new car.

  I stand with my hands on my hips, prepared for his teasing.

  “Nice car.” His voice caresses my ears gently and they wait for more.

  “Thanks. My brother picked it out for me, and well—” I shrug. “It drives like a dream.”

  “That it does.” He doesn’t say it with a sexual tone, but my mind goes there just the same. “I like knowing you’ll be safe on the road now.”

  Derrick feeds his meter, and I take a moment to peruse his body. Damn if he isn’t just as delicious as I remember. His jeans are low, and he’s wearing an open, waist-length parka. His shirt is just tight enough across his chest that a bit of definition shows, and my fingers ache to trace it.

  He says, “Shall we?” The cold bites into me as we walk up the concrete path, and I dig my hands into my pockets to keep them warm. The murmur of voices floats our way when a guy opens the door to leave the Baked Bean. He holds it for us, and we enter into the aroma of coffee and baking bread.

  There isn’t a line, and we walk right up to the counter. Thinking about this for days, I know just what I want. “Could I have a tall, dark roast coffee, black, and an everything bagel, toasted with cream cheese, please?”

  I turn to Derrick, and he says, “Same.” I frown. I thought he liked cream in his coffee, but I don’t say anything.

  The woman behind the counter hands us two large mugs, and we step aside. The heat seeps into my fingers, and I lean down to sniff the deep scent.

  Derrick leans against a wood pillar and asks, “How’s your dad?�
�� He appears cool and controlled, but the way he keeps changing positions gives him away.

  “He’s great, thanks. He went back to work this week and is recovering ahead of schedule.”

  “That’s fantastic. I’m glad you get to keep him for a while longer.” His voice has lowered, and I detect a note of sadness. Not surprising, considering he lost his parents.

  Wicker plates lined with wax paper scrape across the metal countertop of a display case, and Derrick hands one to me and then takes the other. I lead us to a table in the corner away from the few customers seated.

  He sits first, and I take the chair next to him instead of across the table. He smiles at my efforts to let him know I’m open to his explanation.

  I know if I’m feeling awkward he has to be even more uncomfortable. Truth is I’ve come to terms with the whole tip thing. Derrick isn’t like Paul, and I don’t believe he manipulated me.

  No, my reaction was about my fear of commitment. That’s the real reason I ran.

  My bagel crunches and I chew with pleasure. Hungry from my run, I force myself to enjoy my food instead of scarfing it down. The salty garlic flavor infuses the cream cheese coating my tongue.

  Derrick pokes at his bagel, but doesn’t take a bite. I swallow down my mouthful with a swig of coffee and decide to help him start the conversation. “Whatever you tell me, please know I don’t hate you.”

  He gives me a forced smile. “Thank you.” He sits forward in his chair and clunks his elbows down on the hardwood tabletop. Lowering his head in his hands for a moment, he combs his fingers through his hair before lifting his gaze to look at me.

  Derrick says, “There’s no easy way to tell you this part, so I’ll just say it. I Googled you extensively after we first met.” My stomach sinks, and I flash back to a time when I was worried I had a stalker.

  He continues, “Nika is very important to me, and she was so excited to think you could be her new friend that I needed to know you would be safe.”

  “Okay. What made you think I might not be?”

  He lets out a deep sigh. “You had just a backpack and the shittiest car I’ve ever seen.”

  Anger flickers on the surface of my psyche. Judge much? “And?” I hear my voice get a little louder, and know I have to watch myself.

  He shakes his head. “No, that’s not really why. That’s what I told myself.”

  Oh, great. This is getting worse.

  Derrick looks at me, and his intense glare is about to make me squirm when he speaks in a low voice. “The moment I first saw you, I wanted you. Every single pore in my body screamed I had to have you. I wasn’t joking when I told you I’d had a hard-on for you since the first time we met. Never have I felt that way, and it scared the hell out of me. Researching you was my attempt to find a good reason to stay away.”

  Oh fuck me six ways to Sunday. His voice permeates all my defenses, and I’m damp between my legs.

  “I didn’t. You come from a nice family and got good grades. You were a track star in high school, and adorable in braces.” His hand reaches toward me, but pulls back. “Your mother documented your milestones on her Facebook page, and I fell for you more with each one I saw.”

  My mind is racing because this isn’t even close to what I had imagined.

  Derrick takes a sip of his coffee to let me process what he just said and then speaks. “You have wonderful parents that could easily bail you out, and you didn’t need my money. The first time I over-tipped you, I did it because I wanted to help you make it on your own.” He gives me a wry smile. “Some of us don’t like depending on others.”

  I nod because he’s spot on about wanting to make my own way. I lean back and gaze at him over my mug. “This is a lot to take in.”

  “I know.” He waves his hand at my bagel. “Eat, and I’ll tell you more.”

  My hefty bite has little flavor, but I chew and swallow it down anyway. “So tell me what Paul was talking about.”

  “That’s not nearly as bad as it sounded. Paul is the one that tips girls down on their luck so he can have kinky sex. He’s into some—well, I’m not one to talk.” He tilts his head at me and I raise my eyebrows back. Yeah, me either.

  “Back in college he thought I needed help in the girl department. I let it slip that I liked it rough, and he shared his strategy. The idea didn’t appeal to me, but I let him think it did. And, well—” He sits back and sighs.

  “Did you fight with him that night?”

  “Yeah. I don’t do the best job controlling my emotions. I’m kind of intense.”

  I snort. “I noticed.” I reach out and touch his arm. “I’ve been called intense as well. Did you know I punched a boy over a girl once, too?”

  He grins. “Really?”

  I nod. “Yup. Gave him a bloody nose, and I don’t regret it.”

  Derrick waits for the rest.

  “Some douche canoe pulled a girl’s hair and made her cry. So I made him cry. And I got the girl, she’s my best friend.”

  He chuckles. “The one who was your roommate at UVM and has your back no matter what?”

  I smirk. “The very one, Google boy.”

  Derrick sobers. “I’m really sorry I invaded your privacy like that. It was a shitty thing to do.”

  My hand flies to my mouth, and I pull it back before I can bite a nail. I need to tell him about my researching ways.

  I clear my throat. “I Googled you too.”

  Derrick’s eyes narrow but I plod on. “When I was in Vermont I started to wonder about you and why you were so rich.”

  I reach over and take his hand. “I’m really sorry. Your past is yours to share, and I wish I’d never looked.”

  He frowns and looks away for a moment before he grabs my fingers and holds tight. “Same.”

  I let out a shaky breath. “Okay, so you Googled me, I Googled you.” I grin. “That sounds kind of dirty.”

  Derrick gives me a hint of a smile and says, “If you can forgive me, I’ll forgive you.”

  “Deal.” I pull my hand away and pick up my bagel. “So what do we do now?” I crunch another bite because I’m hungry again.

  “I’ve had a lot of time to think about this. My problem is I thought I could make our relationship be just sex. But it’s not for me. I guess by the way you reacted to Paul, we weren’t just sex for you either, were we?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t think I realized it until that night. Believing I wasn’t more to you really hurt.”

  “I know. I felt the same way when you told me that was all I was to you.” The pain that flickers in his eyes makes me flush with shame.

  “Hey, don’t. I know you were hurt and angry.” Derrick traces my jaw with his finger, and his touch forgives me.

  He gives me his trademark stare, and I wait for him to be ready to say more. He sighs and says, “We should start over and date like regular people do.” Derrick picks up his bagel and inspects it. I’m sure it’s cold, but he chews it anyway.

  “You mean go do something together and then end with just a kiss?”

  He answers, “Yes.”

  “I don’t know.” Derrick frowns and I ask, “I mean, what if I want more than a kiss? Is this going to be that frustrating ‘I need to show you how much I like you first before you’ll go all the way’ kind of thing?”

  He unfurls his brows and a smile flickers at the corners of his mouth. He’s about to speak, but I put my fingers on his lips and say, “I’m not saying we call it a dinner and fuck date. But maybe we could just let things happen?”

  Derrick has sucked one of my fingers into his mouth, and I lose my train of thought for a moment before I say, “Some of the magic for me is imagining what you might do.” My eyes fall shut when he moves on to my thumb. “Oh, goodness gracious, I’ve missed you.” When I open my eyes his eyelids are lowered a bit, and he lets a low rumble come from in his throat.

  He takes my hand from his mouth and says, “Tonight, dinner at my house. Come at six.”

&
nbsp; I tilt my head. “Isn’t that a little fast for a first date?”

  He says, “Nika will kill me if she doesn’t get to see you. I’m making dinner for the three of us.”

  I smile, remembering what Casey said about how much Nika eats. “I’ll be there.”

  “Good. Now I’ve got to get cream. How do you drink this stuff black?” He shudders a little. “Want anything?”

  “No, thanks.” But I do want something, and the way my skin is tingling makes me wonder how I’ll make it through dinner without getting it.

  Chapter 32

  I haven’t been back for twenty-four hours yet, but I feel the need to secure my winter jobs. The Grill is closed for the season, but I can still work at the rec center, and I’m hoping the Bike Shop will want me back for another year.

  Gazing out at the continental divide from my kitchen, I use the old-school method of communication and call Mike, the owner of the Bike Shop. An early storm last night left the mountain looking like it’s sprinkled lightly with powdered sugar, and excitement pulses through me.

  The Bike Shop is a ski and board shop in the winter, and one of the perks of working there is using their sanding belt to tune my board for free. Happy to hear from me, Mike gives me a minimum of twenty hours a week, with only one shift during the day.

  I hop up on the counter and pour cold coffee from the pot into a mug. The black liquid smells strong when I sniff it, but I’ve had worse. The microwave door slams shut, and I tap the buttons to heat my drink.

  Another phone call later, and I secure another twenty hours at the rec center with no day shift required. That leaves me six days a week to be on the snow.

  Sipping the bitter coffee, I’m pleased my winter is shaping up nicely. The crumbling sound of gravel under the wheels of a car tells me Casey’s home, and I prepare myself for the grilling.

  She enters with a burst of cold air and grocery bags. “So? How did it go? Did you do it in one of your cars?” A huge smile covers her face.

  “Sex in a car? In broad daylight? What kind of girl do you think I am?”