David isn't here, so it's up to me to vet the date and make sure things go "perfect" for SB. I need a drink in order to deal with this shit. I have to make sure that Jordan Cove, and really, what kind of name is that, knows to keep his hands and all the other parts of his body to himself. According to SarahBeth and Olivia he's one of the "hottest" boys in the senior class and they can't believe he asked her to the prom. Personally, I thought David should have told her that there was no way she, a junior, was going out with a senior. Hell, we were senior boys not that long ago, surely he remembers how they think!
The doorbell brings me out of my dark thoughts, and SB yells down from the top of the stairs, "Jeremy! Will you get the door please? That's my date!"
Rolling my eyes, I shout back sarcastically, "Sure, I'll get the fucking door." as I slam my empty beer bottle down on the coffee table and take a deep breath to calm myself down. You can't act like a caveman. This was my mantra tonight. Don't embarrass SB, scare the date half to death so he doesn't even think about touching her, and make sure she comes home just as innocent as she is right now. Yeah, that's so NOT a thought I need to be having at that moment. Motherfucking hell. I am so screwed.
Pulling open the front door, I'm face-to-face with a punk who is easily three or four inches shorter than me." He has light brown hair, dark blue eyes, and a cocky smirk that makes me want to beat the shit out of him right here on the front porch. I know that look. It's the "I know I'm the shit, and I'm going to get laid tonight," look that all eighteen-year-old boys have on prom night. Hell, I once had that look myself!
"Hey man," boy wonder says. "You must be SB's dad, huh?" My fingers tighten around the edge of the door. I'm not that much older than her you stupid son-of-a-bitch. And where does he get off calling her SB? That's David and my nickname for her, not this asshole.
Reaching out a hand, I smirk back at him, "No, I'm not her dad. I'm her brother's best friend and the one you really don't want to piss off." He hesitates before reaching to shake my hand and when he does, I squeeze his as hard as I can.
"Uh...uh...Oh. My bad, guy." He stutters, clearly thinking he would have the upper hand here. Sorry shithead, I'm way worse than anything you could ever hope to be.
When I just continue to glare at him, his face visibly pales and he starts looking around, hoping SarahBeth will turn up and he can escape. Moving out of the doorway, I gesture for him to come inside. The little shit was so cocky when I answered the door, and now that we're inside he's not saying a damn word. This is going to be easier than I thought.
"So, Jordan, right?" He nods. "What exactly are your plans for you and SB tonight?" If he's going to use her nickname, I damn sure am too. I don't know how much time I'll have before she gets down here, and I want this guy to know what's going to happen if she comes back changed in any way.
Jordan looks everywhere but at me when he says, "Um, well, there's a party after prom tonight that I figured we would go to at my buddy Andy's house."
"Uh huh. And I'm assuming Andy's parents won't be home right?" My arms are crossed and my eyes are cold. I know exactly where this is heading.
He shakes his head frantically, "No sir, his parents are staying in a hotel tonight so that he can have the party." Well, his parents are clearly idiots. The only things these kids are going to be doing tonight is drinking and having sex.
Leaning in close, making sure to keep eye contact with him, I growl, "You better bring her straight home after prom. I was your age not that long ago, and the last thing you're going to do is take SarahBeth to an unsupervised prom after party. She better come home in the same condition I'm sending her with you in. You get me?"
"Y-y-y-yes sir," Jordan stammers, clearly flustered. "I'll bring her right home, I promise."
I smile evilly, "Good. Thank you Jordan. I knew I could count on you."
Our conversation finishes just in time for SB to start down the stairs to meet us. As she reaches the bottom, I'm pretty sure Jordan and I have the same dumbstruck expression on our faces. In addition to the way her body looks in that pink dress, she's curled her hair and put makeup on. She looks like an angel and my heart is beating double time in my chest. When SB sees Jordan, her entire face lights up, and my hands tighten into fists at my sides. Jealousy isn't an emotion I'm familiar with, and it's fucking with my head. The only thought going through my mind right now is that she shouldn't be looking at him that way, it should be me. I'm the only one she's ever looked at that way. I feel like I'm losing my goddamn mind lately, all I can think about is this tiny slip of a girl who isn't even eighteen.
Jesus Christ. I need to hold it together, but I have no idea how to do that. She is seventeen-fucking-years-old, and I'm twenty-eight. If it were anyone else having thoughts like this about her, I'd beat the ever-loving shit out of them, yet here I am thinking things that no man should think about someone her age. It's making me crazy. I am only human, but the emotions I feel whenever I think about her, see her, smell her, make me the worst kind of bastard.
"Hey Jordan," SarahBeth says shyly. She looks nervous and a little insecure about how he's going to react to her, which is ludicrous because any hot-blooded man would be in awe of her. The floor-length bubblegum pink dress swirls around her as she moves, each step showing the barest hint of leg and I'm kicking myself for letting her buy it. The dress made her so damn happy though, how could I say no? Her heels click against the floor as she walks over to us, adding at least three inches to her height, not that it matters much, she's still more than half a foot shorter than I am. She's much closer to limp dick's height though, which makes me feel better.
Jordan doesn't respond to her at first, he's too busy ogling the way her chest fills out the bodice of the dress. Clearing my throat loudly, I expect him to snap out of it but he doesn't. With a groan at how stupid teenage boys are, I smack the back of his head, "Hey shit for brains, eyes up top!"
Jerking his head towards me, he's still stupefied. What a fucking moron. With a shake of my head, I gesture towards SarahBeth, "Eyes above the chest, dude. Seriously, I'm standing right here."
"Oh, shit. Sorry!" he yelps. God, what a pussy. Holding out a hand to SB, he smiles at her in that douchebag way guys have, the one that says "I want to be in your panties later", or even better, "how 'bout you leave the panties at home tonight". I'm going to kill this little fucker before the night is over.
SB's smile is blinding when he tells her, "You look beautiful tonight, baby."
Baby? Are you fucking kidding me?!? I can't take it anymore. "Well," I start, my voice dripping with false cheer, "shouldn't you two get going?" Turning to SarahBeth, I remind her, "Remember, your curfew is midnight. Don't be late." I'm quite proud of the fact that my voice doesn't betray how frustrated I am over the whole situation. If only she knew what I'm really thinking, she'd probably run for the hills.
"Midnight? But Jeremy, it's prom," she pouts.
Fucking right it's prom. SB's just lucky I don't give her an earlier curfew. "I know it's prom, you still have to be home by midnight. You know the rules."
"Fine," she huffs, her pout disappearing as her eyes flash with anger. Good. Be pissed off; stay mad all night as long as you come home in one piece and with your virginity intact. Taking Jordan's hand, she practically drags him out of the house in an obvious attempt to get away from me as quickly as possible. Shit. I hope this doesn't backfire on me. It would be just like her to come home late just to piss me off.
I spend the rest of the night sitting in the den, listening for the door. David won't be home until well after the bar closes and I'm becoming unglued waiting for SarahBeth to get back. The clock hits 11:30pm when the door finally opens. She's home early? That's definitely a good sign, I hope. She doesn't come straight in, and I'm imagining all sorts of scenarios; maybe he's kissing her at the door, are they groping each other, or worse? When I can't take it any longer, I head towards the foyer, almost afraid of what I'm going to see when I get there.
When I come through
the doorway, SarahBeth is standing with her back against the door and her head in her hands. Her shoulders are shaking, and I can hear her quiet cries. Feeling like a complete asshole for feeling relief at the sight of her tears, I'm quickly reminded that tears don't necessarily mean he didn't touch her. Motherfucker.
"SarahBeth?" I ask in a soft voice, unsure why she's crying.
Her body stiffens at my voice. "What do you want?" she asks, her voice watery. "Haven't you done enough for one night?"
Shit. She knows all about about my little conversation earlier. Little asshole couldn't keep his mouth shut for a few hours could he? I know it's idiotic as soon as the words leave my mouth, but I still try to play dumb. "What are you talking about? I haven't done anything."
SB drops her hands, looking at me in disbelief. "Are you serious right now? You can't think of anything you might have done?"
"Nope." I don't even know why I deny it; it will only make things worse.
Narrowing her eyes, she puts her hands on her tiny hips, which makes my lips twitch. She's trying to be stern, in a pale pink party dress. It's kind of cute and not the least bit intimidating. "You're going to stand here and tell me that you didn't tell Jordan that he better not even think about touching me? That you didn't tell him not to take me to any after parties?"
"Hmmm," I start rubbing the five o'clock shadow on my chin and trying to act like I don't remember the conversation from earlier. "I don't think I specifically said not to touch you, but I did tell him he'd better not take you to any unsupervised prom after party's." I'm not backing down on this; she'll thank me later for standing up for her.
"Well, thanks a lot Jeremy." Her lower lip quivers belying her pissed off expression. Dammit. Somehow, whatever I said to the little prick caused her to be hurt and that isn't what I was going for. Taking a deep breath, she steadies herself before saying, "Because of your over-protective act, Jordan ended up abandoning me during prom for a girl who didn't have a midnight curfew that he didn't have to be afraid to touch." She whispers, "Thanks for ruining my night," as the tears start to fall unchecked down her cheeks, making me feel like an absolute jackass, even more so than I did a few hours before.
I pull her into me and wrap my arms around her. SarahBeth struggles at first, still upset with me, but I continue to hold her tight, and refuse to let her go. I probably should feel some sort of remorse for the things I said to the boy, but I only regret the fact that she was hurt by my actions, not that he left her alone. That part worked perfectly. Realizing SarahBeth spends entirely too much time crying into my shirts, I finally pull back to look into her eyes. "I am sorry I ruined your night. That wasn't my intention, I just want to protect you Little Bit. You can understand that can't you?"
Seeing the sincerity radiating from my words, SB relaxes, her tears slowing. "I know you want to protect me, Jeremy, but you can't threaten every guy I go out with so that he doesn't touch me. Eventually, I am going to be an adult. I do want to get married and have kids sometime and that will never happen if you scare away every guy with your growly face."
My breath catches in my throat as I imagine her with some faceless man. A man who can hold her freely, kiss her, touch her, give her children. The thought of anyone but me touching her downright cripples me, but I can never let her know that. I'll always be nothing more than her big brother's oldest friend, emphasis on the old. I'll never be that guy for her, and it cuts deep. With a final hug, she disentangles herself from me to go up to her room, leaving me with the image of her and this "other man" in my head. I can't take it any longer so I head to David's office and the liquor contained there. Maybe if I drink enough, I'll stop thinking about the way she looked tonight and the way she felt in my arms.
SarahBeth
Jeremy's made it painfully clear how he feels about me over the past year. I don't know exactly what happened or why, but it started not long after my junior prom. I was so mad at him for the things he did that night. He actually threatened to hurt Jordan if he even touched me! How ridiculous is that? A few days later, we were supposed to go meet David for dinner but he ended up having to cancel. That night is not one I liked to remember.
I stayed over to help with yearbook layouts so I'm almost 45 minutes late getting home. Walking into the den, I throw my backpack onto a chair before flopping down onto the couch. It's almost six and I have no idea where Jeremy and my brother are. Pulling my cell phone out of my bag, I see a text from my brother sent a few hours ago.
Hey. I'm not going to be able to do dinner tonight, so it'll just be you and J. That ok?
Even though he sent it two hours prior, I still reply, excited that he won't be here because that will give me alone time with Jeremy. Time that I won't have to manufacture. Shamefully, I've done that more than once during the past year and a half. I told Jeremy that I wanted to plan a surprise for David after he opened Drench so that he'd take me someplace, just the two of us. Then I had to scramble to come up with an idea for the surprise. Clearly, I didn't think that one through. I also made him take me to the store to buy things that I "forgot" on purpose when I was there with my brother. And, there was the prom dress shopping. I told David that Olivia was taking me, and then told Jeremy that she had something to do so that he'd take me instead.
Yeah, that's fine. Will I get to see you tonight?
David must have been waiting for a response from me because it's only a few minutes before he sends one back.
Sorry SB, one of the bartenders didn't show so I'm going to have to close tonight. We'll do something tomorrow night though. I promise.
Don't promise when you don't know if you can deliver. That's worse than canceling on me.
I know I shouldn't act so upset about it, but he's always canceling on me for some reason or another. I asked Jeremy once why David came back to be with me when he's never there. Jeremy told me that he wants to be here; it's just that getting a business off the ground isn't easy. I'm not dumb. I know it takes a lot to get a business going, but he's never here with me. If it weren't for Jeremy, I'd spend half my time alone or playing third wheel to Livvie and her current flavor of the week.
A few minutes later my phone lights up with one last text message.
I'm sorry SB.
I sigh, I know he's sorry, but it doesn't make the fact that he's gone all the time any better. Ugh, enough with this one-person pity party. Just when I'm about to go looking for Jeremy I hear a door shut down the hall and his footsteps coming closer. When he walks into the room, he's looking down at his wrist as he fumbles with the buttons on a striped dress shirt. Oh. My. God. He looks absolutely delicious in a pair of black dress pants, a white dress shirt with thin silver pinstripes and a black vest. He hasn't put on a jacket yet, but the dark clothing fits his olive skin tone, dark hair and dark eyes so well. He looks like he should be on a runway instead of here in my living room.
Jeremy doesn't acknowledge me so I take my time perusing his tall body. I'm wearing chucks, so he's a good foot taller than me as I twist around on the couch so that I can lean against the back and watch him move around the kitchen. When he still doesn't acknowledge me, I clear my throat.
"Are you ready to go?" Jeremy startles like he really didn't see me and it sends shooting pains straight through my heart.
He shakes his head before telling me, "Oh, I guess I forgot to tell Dave. I've got a date tonight, so I'm not going with you guys. Sorry Little Bit."
"You're not going?" I ask in a small voice. David isn't going and now Jeremy isn't going either, which means I'm going to be alone all night. I'm trying hard to keep my voice from quivering and blinking fast to try to keep the tears from falling. The last thing I want is for him to stay home because I'm crying. Then the fact that he said he has a date registers. It feels like he just ripped my heart out of my chest.
Jeremy shakes his head, "No, sorry, I should have said something before but I guess I just forgot." He shrugs, oblivious to my pain as he walks past me kissing the top of my head. "I'll be b
ack in a few hours," he calls out just before closing the front door and leaving me alone with my misery as I turn back around, and stare blankly at the TV screen.
I'm still sitting on the couch an hour and a half later with my knees curled up to my chest and my head resting on my arms stacked on top when the front door slams shut. My phone has been going off almost nonstop for the last thirty minutes but I haven't moved from my position, afraid I'll break apart if I do.
"SarahBeth!" Jeremy shouts as he runs up the stairs. I hear doors banging open as he continues to yell my name more frantically before coming down the back stairs closer to where I'm sitting in the den. "Goddammit SarahBeth," he growls when he sees me. "Why didn't you say something? I was hollering for you." His voice is accusatory and I can feel his angry gaze on me.
I still say nothing, prompting him to come stand in front of me. Jeremy waits for me to acknowledge him and when I don't he deflates with a sigh before sitting on the edge of the coffee table in front of me. A hand on either side of my face, he pulls my head up so I have no choice but to meet his concerned sapphire eyes.
"You didn't tell me that David bailed on dinner, why not?" he asks, and even though his voice is soft, I know he's not so much asking a question as demanding an answer.
"What would have been the point?" I respond quietly, not wanting him to know how much it hurt that they both abandoned me tonight. I've come to expect it from my brother, but not from him.
Squeezing his eyes shut Jeremy says nothing at first, but the pained look on his face says much more that words ever could. He knows exactly what I didn't voice. "You should have told me," he states in a stronger voice, one that brooks no argument.
Everything I Shouldn't / Everything I Need (Nashville Nights #2-3) Page 4