“Excuse me, Hope?” An already all too familiar sexy, yet smooth voice interrupts.
Jumping not only from being startled, but also from the chill that runs down my spine, I see the guy that is sure to haunt my dreams.
Forcing a smile, I respond, “Yes?”
“I was wondering if you could make that two Coronas?” he asks, holding up two fingers.
With a devilish grin and a wink, he continues, “It’s getting a little warm in here, don’tcha think?”
Acting as unaffected as possible and ignoring my heart that’s beating out of my chest, I respond, “Sure, no problem.”
“Thanks. You’ve got beautiful eyes, by the way,” he flirts, taking a step closer to me like he needs to take a closer look.
My body goes limp inhaling his mouth watering scent, and the way his breath tickles my face makes my body bubble with goosebumps. There’s an undeniable urge to lean forward and press my lips against his; his lips have the perfect amount of plumpness to them that would provide the perfect amount of cushion against mine.
Boyfriend! I have a boyfriend.
Snapping myself out of his spell, again, I respond, “Thanks, I’ll add the Corona to your order,” then turn to gather their drinks and get the hell away from him.
Waking up this morning, I’m completely exhausted. I tossed and turned all night. I can’t get the picture of that guy from the restaurant out of my head. He’s consuming my every thought, and invading my dreams. His perfect skin, lips, face, scent, smile; it’s all haunting me with no intention of leaving me alone. He’s like a drug that I can’t stop thinking about. This is insane, and unbearable.
Although the sun is at least an hour before rising, I decide to get out of bed and head to the beach early–there’s no chance I’m falling back to sleep at this point. Pulling my hair up into a ponytail and throwing my bikini on, I quickly brush my teeth then grab my keys.
Fortunately, since it’s so early there is not a soul at the beach and I have the whole ocean to myself, other than the big shrimp boats pulling in their catch. After putting on my wetsuit and grabbing my board out of the bed of my truck I proceed to the water, taking a minute to breathe in the crisp ocean scent that brings me the peace and tranquility that I’m seeking.
Lying on my board, I try to allow my body to relax; however the image of an incredibly good looking Italian guy keeps creeping into my mind. Hitting my head on my surf board out of frustration, I notice it’s no use–I can’t get that damn boy out of my brain.
Why is this happening? I’ve got a very sweet boyfriend that I love dearly, that loves me back even more.
It’s just a crush. It’s nothing more than a crush.
Shaking my head again to clear my thoughts, I see a wave approaching. Turning around, I start paddling away from it. Just as I start to feel the wave push up on the back of my board, I jump up and plant my feet. The rush of adrenaline temporarily clears my mind, allowing me to escape into the thrill of the wave until it breaks and fades into the shore.
Coming up from under the water, I feel satisfied, and free. Ready for some more, I swim back out in search of the next wave to help peel off another layer of Italian frustration.
By the end of my surfing session my mind is at ease and back to where it should be, with Trent. Peeling of my wetsuit, and throwing my board in the back, I make my way back home, this time with a smile and stress free.
“Mornin’,” I greet my dad, walking into the kitchen.
“Mornin’, sweetheart. Good today?” he inquires about my surfing session, grabbing a travel mug out of the cupboard.
“Just what I needed,” I answer with a sigh, pouring us both coffee. “How’s Mom?”
“Fed, showered, and dressed,” he responds. “Hey, do you have any plans this morning? I’ve gotta run to the post office and grocery store; can you stay here with Mom?”
Today is a Saturday, so my dad usually takes over the caretaker role on the weekends, but of course I help out if he needs to do something.
“No plans. I’ll be here,” I respond, more than willing to help.
“Great. Thanks, sweetheart. I’ll be back,” he responds in appreciation before heading out.
Walking out into the living room I smile, watching my mom indulge in her morning news.
“Anything new and exciting going on in the world?”
“Hi, honey. Nothing out of the norm. Trent called this morning. Did your father tell you?”
“He called the home phone? Did he say what he wanted?” I ask, confused to why he called the land line as opposed to my cellphone.
“He said he was worried because you never called when you got home last night.”
Crap!
Still flustered from my run in previously in the night, I completely forgot to call Trent when I got home. I always call him before bed, but my mind was clearly elsewhere.
Ashamed that I let another guy consume so much of me that I forgot to call my own boyfriend, I ask, “I completely forgot. What’d dad tell him?”
“He said that he heard you get up this morning, so he was pretty sure you got home alright.”
“Oh good. Last night was so busy that I must’ve just crashed when I got home,” I lie. “Do you need anything before I hop in the shower?”
“Nope, I’m good,” she replies with her usual smile.
“Holler if you need me.” I kiss the top of her head before heading to the bathroom.
Standing under the warm water, the guilt of not calling Trent last night is weighing heavily on my conscience. Never has this ever happened to me; Trent has always been the center of my universe, but now my head it so fogged with thoughts from last night that I can’t even think straight. Feeling awful, I wrap myself in my bathrobe and pick up my cellphone to call Trent.
Picking up on the first ring, he says “hello” in a nervous tone. My stomach knots, hearing the obvious concern and worry in his voice.
“Hi, babe. Sorry I didn’t call last night–work was so busy and I crashed as soon as I saw my bed,” I cheerfully say while gnawing at my nails nervously. “I just wanted to call and say I love you since I didn’t last night.”
“I’m glad you’re okay. I freaked out when I woke this morning and noticed that I never heard from you. I love you, too,” Trent responds, making my heart swell. “We still on for lunch today?”
Every Saturday we take my parents out to lunch. With our conflicting schedules, we don’t get to see much of each other during the week, so it’s a nice chance to get my mom out of the house and catch up from our busy week.
“Yeah, of course,” I respond.
“Great. I’ll see you in a little bit then. Love you, Angel.”
“Love you,” I choke out, feeling the tears of deception building within me.
Even though I didn’t physically cheat on Trent, it still feels like I did. I was envisioning and feeling things I shouldn’t when in a committed relationship with someone else. Trent has been the only man I’ve had eyes for, the only man I’ve loved, for so long that I can’t understand why a guy I just met–not even met, saw–is consuming just as much space in my head as Trent. It’s driving me crazy and making me feel like an awful girlfriend.
Joining my mom back in the living room, I crack open the latest book I’ve been indulging in and escape into another world, far away from mine.
Hearing the screen door slam shut, I sit up to see who is here. Around the corner comes my sweet boyfriend. My heart swells and my stomach flutters seeing the tall, rugged, firm body standing in front of me with eyes full of love and admiration. Fighting back the tears to hide my inner struggles I quickly run to him, throwing my arms around his waist, squeezing him against me and resting my cheek on his chest so I can hear the heart that I own beating just for me.
“Woah…Hi, Angel,” Trent whispers into my hair, after matting it down to kiss it. “Is everything okay?”
Unwrapping him from my hold, I cup his face with my hands so I can focus on h
is eyes. “Yes, I just really missed you is all.”
Leaning down to gently kiss me, he whispers, “I love you” against my lips.
Feeling the intensity of those three words coming from his mouth, I can’t help but release the stray tears that have been welling in my eyes.
Holding my face with his hands, he uses his thumbs to clear the tears from my cheeks. Instead of asking me what’s wrong, he gently kisses my face where the tears just were.
“Is your dad home? I didn’t see his car in the driveway,” Trent asks, taking my hands and lacing my fingers with his.
“He had to run some errands. He should be home any minute,” I respond, still trying to calm my nerves.
“Awesome, I’m starving. I’ve gotta use the restroom first, though. I’ll be right back.” He kisses my forehead, then escapes down the hall.
“What was that all about?” my mom questions when I re-enter the living room.
I try to play dumb.
“What was what?”
“Spill it!”
She knows me too well.
“I just had a weird run-in with a customer last night and it left me feeling a little guilty…because of Trent. But, seeing Trent reminded me of how much I love him, that’s all,” I answer, like it’s no big deal; like I didn’t just spend the last twelve plus hours beating myself up emotionally for admiring another guy, one that I can’t understand why I even gave a second glance to.
“Oh honey, you’re human. You’re allowed to look. You just can’t touch,” my mom jokes, making both of us chuckle.
“What’s so funny? What’d I miss?” Trent asks with a curious smile, coming up behind me.
“Hope was just telling me about a guy that was hitting on her last night,” she says, winking at me. My eyes spring open like a deer in headlights, shocked that she’d repeat that to Trent. “You’d better watch out, Trent. My daughter is quite the catch.”
“Oh, I’m fully aware of that, Mrs. Taylor. Luckily, I own that huge heart of your daughter’s, and will never let it go,” he responds, melting every bone in my body.
Standing on my tippy toes, making us eye level, I whisper “you better not” against his lips before kissing him as passionately discreet as one would in front of their parent.
“Never, Angel,” he responds, pushing my loose strands of hair out of my face, and smiling at me with admiration.
“Don’t look now, but Mister Gorgeous, and his friends just walked in,” Kelly whispers to me, nodding to the group of guys that just walked through the doors.
Peeking over the glass divider that hides the waitress stand from the rest of the restaurant, I spot the devil that has been haunting my dreams for the last three weeks. My stomach drops to the floor, and my heart starts thumping at a ridiculous speed as our eyes meet with the same intensity as last time.
Why does my body respond like this to him?
Even though everything has been going good with Trent, I haven’t forgotten the reaction my body had when seeing this guy last time. Although I’ve brushed it aside and have told myself it’s nothing, seeing him today totally contradicts that thought. My body is reacting just as it did before, with complete loss of self-control.
Keeping our eyes fixed on each other, I notice the enticing body behind the stare is getting closer to me, walking straight to where I’m standing.
“Hey, sweet thing,” he greets me, reeking of alcohol and blazing his eyes up and down my body, leaving a trail of fire behind them.
“Staring me down and quivering when I get close ain’t a good idea baby,” he continues with a cocky look.
Baby?
Furious with what he does to me, and pissed that he can see it, I answer in a snarky tone, “Is there something I can help you with?”
“I can think of a few things.” He raises his eyebrows suggestively and runs his soft… moist…irresistible tongue along his perfect full lips.
Ugh. Stop it, Hope!
I give him a less than subtle eye roll and ignore the dirty thoughts in my head. He continues, “I was just hoping I’d be able to get a Corona while we wait for our table?”
Knowing that we aren’t on a wait, I nod to the empty ones in Kelly’s section. “There are plenty of available tables. Why are you waiting for one?”
“None of them belong to my favorite waitress,” he winks, sending my heated nerves to boiling.
Favorite waitress?
“I’ve only waited on you once. How can I be your favorite?”
“You must’ve left a lasting impression.” He takes a step closer to me so our faces are only inches apart with both of his hands on my hips. “And don’t forget the lime, sweetheart,” he whispers while running his face down my neck like he’s going to kiss it; making every hair on my body stand and my breathing fall so heavy that you can actually see my chest rapidly rising and falling. I should be pushing him far away from me, but my body is frozen. “Mmm, you smell delicious,” he adds before pretending to bite my nose. He walks away, laughing.
“Holy shit! Is there something I should know about with you two?” Kelly chimes in, reminding me that she’s been standing there the whole time.
“I can’t freaking stand him, and I barely even know the guy,” I claim, hating the fact that I’m still numb from his breath against my body and his hands touching my sides.
“Oh, Hope. Admit it. You’ve got it bad for this guy.”
“What? He pisses me off more than anyone I know!” I snap at her, although there’s a chance she’s right.
“It’s called sexual tension, my dear. You want him, and you know it!” Kelly says, pointing her finger into my chest.
How can I want a man I don’t even know?
Although Trent and I mess around, we’ve never had sex. I’m still a virgin, not for any specific reason other than the timing just hasn’t been right. If I haven’t even given it up to my boyfriend, whom I love, then I’m sure as hell not giving it up to some pompous, conceited drunk that’s only capable of loving himself.
Over this conversation, and not wanting to be anywhere near that guy, I ask Kelly if she can take care of them.
“Trust me, I’d love to, but Sheila just sat me with a party of ten who requested me. They’re all yours, my dear.”
Irritated to the max, I yank a Corona out of the cooler, and jam a lime into the top then stomp childishly over to the table where the Guido posse has been seated.
Placing the beer in front of my nemesis and walking to the other side of the table, I pass out the menus and ask what the rest of them would like to drink with my fakest, yet friendliest voice and smile possible.
After gathering their drink orders I walk away from the table, not even glancing in his direction once. Telling myself that I can handle this, I prepare their drinks, take a deep breath, and head back over to them. As I get closer, I hear one of the guys joke, “Look, Joey, here comes your girlfriend.” Girlfriend? In his dreams! And, his name is Joey? How original. These guys are so cliché, they should be on the reality show The Jersey Shore.
“Are y’all ready to order?” I ask, placing their drinks in front of them and feeling a little more confident.
“I’ll have The All American Burger.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“Make that three.”
“I’ll have the personal pan pizza, but I’m thinking about adding some sausage to it. How’s the sausage here? Do you like the Italian sausage, Hope?” Joey asks with a sly smirk, running his eyes up and down my body. His friends immediately burst with laughter, while the fire inside of me ignites again, but this time in rage.
What a pig!
Wanting to give it back to him I open my mouth to spat some snarky remark, but notice the words aren’t coming out. Instead, I’m focused on the lower half of his body; focused on his sausage–I mean, junk.
Jesus, Hope–get a grip!
“See something you like, sweetheart?” Joey asks, cupping his manhood.
“Yes. NO! No, I
don’t like Italian sausage. I mean, yes. Yes, I like sausage on my pizza, but not…not yours!” I blurt out, face flushed, furious that he can get under my skin so easily.
“Shit, baby, we’re just talking about pizza toppings, but I like how your mind works,” Joey says with a wink.
With a quick roll of the eyes and a deep breath I ask, “So what would you like to eat?” through gritted teeth.
Gliding his tongue along his lips, my eyes, again, center on the way his wet tongue slides so smoothly over his mouth, sending a wave of heat throughout my body.
God, he’s got nice lips and his tongue…
Shaking my head to clear the images, I give him an annoyed look, waiting for his order.
“I’ll just have a burger, too…for now,” he answers with his infamous grin.
Are ‘ya kidding me? A burger? After all that?
Cringing when I see their food ready under the heaters, I load their plates onto the tray and take a deep breath before heading back over to Joey’s table.
“Just in time, baby,” Joeys says as I rest the large tray on the stand. “I was gettin’ so hungry I almost came lookin’ for you to get an appetizer.” He arches an eyebrow and focuses his eyes on the crotch of my shorts.
Oh my god!
Being too flustered for words, I give him a disgusted look complimented by a nice eye roll.
“Maybe later,” he adds with a seductive grin and wink.
Shaking my head and rolling my eyes yet again, I basically throw their plates down in front of them, and walk away without even asking if they have everything they need.
Throughout their meal my check-ins become fewer and far between. The obscenities and drunken behavior haven’t improved; the more he drinks, the dirtier and more offensive he gets. Luckily they ask for the check just as I am about to cut him off or kick him to the curb, whichever came first.
Summer Rush (Because of Hope) Page 2