“Well, I went out to Arizona and missed you while I worked on a horse ranch for a couple of years. I looked at the sunset every single night and the sunrise every morning, and never one time did I see a sight as beautiful as you.” He ducked his head as though he couldn’t believe the words he’d spoken. His throat rumbled as he covered a cough and continued. “Then last year, I was up in Canada running a hunting lodge, thinking how much I would like to be snuggling with you in front of a fire, watching it snow.”
He’d always known how to melt my heart with a look, with a kiss, with the perfect words plucked from his poetic soul. I couldn’t let myself forget he’d broken my heart. This arrangement meant nothing more than a matter of convenience and lust. And because of the lust, I couldn’t help but be anxious to begin. “So, how do we do this?” I blurted, tired of small talk.
“This?” His eyebrows wrinkled, and he cocked his head to one side.
“Our arrangement?”
He straightened his head and his eyes widened.
“The sex?”
“I didn’t come here for sex tonight, Joss.”
My mouth dropped open. Then what the hell was he doing sitting at my counter, eating my pizza, and drinking my beer? “Excuse me?”
“I said we had a deal. I didn’t say we would close on it tonight.”
“Why do you get to decide when we close the deal?” And why did we sound like real estate agents? The profoundness of his arrogance toward me said he still knew how badly I wanted him. Tonight, it annoyed me and my hormones.
He grinned proudly. “I happen to have the equipment you need.”
I hopped off the stool, then stomped through my living room. “Well, the joke’s on you, wise ass. I can buy the equipment.” I tossed the comment over my shoulder. My bedroom door slammed behind me as I snatched my pajamas out of the bureau drawer. Flinging the dress in the corner, I drew my oversized shirt--a leftover of his--over my head and flopped down under my blanket. He could figure out for himself that he needed to get the hell out of my house. I spent years of my life being jerked around by the big--for lack of a better word--jerk. I could find a man anytime I wanted. And Keaton Shaw could go straight to hell. I didn’t need him.
He knocked on my bedroom door. “Jocelyn.”
“Go away, Keaton,” I spat first, hoping the lock held, then hoping it didn’t. I groaned at my own flimsiness.
“Come on, Joss.” He opened the door and peeked in. Presumably, due to our history, checking for flying shoes. “Listen to me, please.”
I turned away from him and faced the window.
“Baby.” The mattress creaked under his weight as he sat down on the bed next to me. “I would be more than happy to lay down here with you and do all the things looking at you makes me want to do, but we did all of that before, and we ended up apart anyway.”
He paused and I turned to face him, kind of interested in how he planned to finish this.
“I meant what I said. I want to know you this time. The adult, all woman you. I want to know what makes you laugh and smile. And I want to pay attention to every detail this time.” His hand cupped my face. “We'd already lost what we had before Danielle ever kissed me, or we would’ve fought for it and not let it slip away. I want to get back to where we were in the beginning. When we couldn’t get enough of each other.”
I didn’t need enough. I only wanted a little.
He shook his head and continued. “So, if you aren’t in it for a future, then I will climb on and make you scream until your lungs hurt.”
Now that sounded like fun.
“Then I’ll go, and you’ll never hear from me again.”
Completely out of my control, my heart skipped a beat at the statement.
“But I want to know you first this time. It isn’t negotiable for me. That’s why I came here tonight.”
“You know what I heard in all of your big speech? Blah, blah, blah, scream till your lungs hurt, blah, blah, blah.” But I grinned. How could I protest such heart-felt words?
His hand still caressed my face. “You are one horny chick.”
“You know, most guys think it’s a good thing.” I slapped him away and sat up.
To his credit, he let the most guys comment go. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing. I said it’s a not tonight thing.”
“Whatever.” I rolled my eyes and resisted the urge to lean in to him. Barely.
A naughty little glimmer twinkled in his eyes. “You could try to convince me,” he said.
My mouth dropped open, but my pulse rate doubled. “You’re insane. First you’re all it’s a deal, then it’s no, I want to get to know you, and now you’re like convince me. What do you want from me, Keats?” He didn’t answer, and instead, raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. I took matters into my own hands and let the games begin. Desperate to touch him, I sat up and kissed my way to his neck, then moved from earlobe to collarbone. Nothing in the world tasted as delightful as Keaton’s skin. His breath caught and held.
“Mmm, I forgot how yummy you are.” I punctuated each word with a kiss.
I moved to the other side of his neck, nibbling and sucking as I ventured farther south. His eyes closed as I tasted his jaw, then his lips. My fumbling fingers worked at the buttons on his shirt as the tip of my tongue sought out the planes of his chest. He tilted my head up to deliver a searing kiss that left me panting for more. If this was waiting, then the main event promised to be quite an exhibition of lust. Soon his chest rippled beneath my fingers, his arms pulling me closer. His hands skimmed my sides, circled around to my back. A second later, the back of one of his hands grazed my stomach under my shirt.
After a deliciously wicked moment, he pulled away and let out a deep breath in a whoosh of air that blew my hair back. “I am going to let you decide what happens now. We can go on and finish this tonight, or we can get to know each other. We could do it the right way this time. Maybe build something that lasts.”
Would someone who claimed to want to be with me so badly walk away after one night of sex? Was I willing to take that chance? “So if we do this tonight, that’s it? One shot?” I dropped my hand to his lap, not quite finished with the convincing. The muscles in his thigh tensed under the pressure of my fingertips, and his eyelids fluttered shut.
Eyes still closed, he nodded. “That’s my deal.” I knew if I moved my hands two inches farther north, I could easily have my way with him, but I drew away.
“Your deal is stupid. Why’s it always all or nothing with you? Why can’t we get busy now, and I can tell you my favorite color after. I’ll even play my favorite song for you, and tomorrow we can figure out the rest. It’s just sex. It isn’t like we’ve never done it before.”
He didn’t speak. Merely shook his head with that damned sexy grin curling the corners of his lips heavenward.
I sighed. “Fine. Go home, Keaton.”
“Can I call you tomorrow?” he murmured softly. I wasn’t a hundred percent sure he spoke the words. With a deep gaze into my eyes, he waited for an answer.
I nodded and leaned in for another kiss. “I’m in bed, ready and willing, and you want to leave?”
He popped his neck and smiled down at me. “Want is the wrong word.” He stood and buttoned his shirt before leaning down to place a quick kiss on my cheek. “What I want is different from what I know we need.” He stepped to the end of the bed and stopped before turning to leave. A second later, he took three more steps.
When he reached the door, I said, “Keaton.”
He turned, almost warily.
“My favorite color is pink.” I dropped back against the pillows and sighed. He grinned, then disappeared through the door. Now that he’d gone, I had nothing to look forward to but a long, sleepless night.
I flipped and flopped around my bed, memories holding my sleep hostage. I’d never been one to live in the past, but Keaton brought something out in me. To be honest, he brought
out everything, the anger, passion, and love. I spent every minute of the last three or so years, running away from all the feelings he urged to the surface. Thanks to Keaton, I spent most days blinded by the fear of loving someone so much and the rest choked by the insecurity of not being loved enough.
I lay there, looking back on our life, longing for the time I’d been so sure of us and trusted that we would make it no matter what. With one look, one kiss, he transformed all I felt for him into another emotion altogether. Could I stop him from doing it again? And knowing the rewards, did I want to?
I closed my eyes and longed for the days when I knew everything, and knew it without question. Oh, to be seventeen again…
Chapter 6
Past March - Age 17
Months passed without my running into Keaton. He stopped coming to our house as often. Even when he did show up, I spent most of my time grounded to my bedroom. He could have moved in down the hall and I would never have known.
If a positive result of my constant punishment existed, it could only be that I finally settled down and put all my efforts into my school work. As a reward, Mom let me take up cheerleading. At least I could hang out with my friends during halftime.
On my last day without unrestricted privileges, I ran into Keaton, literally, coming out of our kitchen with Simon. I bounced off his chest and almost moaned when the scent of his cologne reached my nose. His gaze locked with mine and tingles shot through my every nerve ending.
“Hey Joss,” Simon said, throwing his arm around me as he spun to stroll back into the kitchen beside me. “We’re going to get pizza. Wanna come along?”
“Nope. This is my last day being grounded. I’m not screwing that up for a slice of deep pan.” I ached to hang out with my friends at the mall and eat burgers from the Hamburger Hut. There would be no taking chances with my freedom by trying to escape a day early.
“What did you do to get grounded?” Keaton asked.
I ignored him more out of embarrassment than dislike. More than a year passed since he turned down my proposition, and though it still stung, my anger graduated to embarrassment--especially since he looked so cute these days and had rejected me so easily.
“She ditched school for like a whole week last May to hang out with Eric. Then, her big, smart mouth kept getting time added on. Plus, she got caught sneaking out twice. That’s why her room is upstairs now. Bad girl.” Simon clicked his tongue, his finger shaking at me in the perfect mimic of our mother.
“Eric from Christmas?” Keaton asked quietly.
I’d told Simon about that night and how Keaton saved me, but there’d been no need for him to know much more. He had no idea his best friend suggested he found me slutty. I nodded, investigating my painted toenails.
He shook his head at the precise moment I looked up. “Wow.”
I rewarded his disgust with a glare and pulled an orange from the fruit bowl on the counter. Digging a nail into the rind, I wished I could inflict the same damage on Keaton’s face.
“Hey, we’re going to Grace’s party tomorrow night. Are you going?”
Grace, another cheerleader, hosted parties every single weekend. Naturally, Simon assumed I would go, since the party sprouted from cheer girl enthusiasm, but he guessed wrong. The other cheer girls worried too much about having perfect hair, the right party, and what rules they could break without fear of being lumped into a group with the likes of me. I had news for them. The idea didn’t exactly fill me with warm fuzzy feelings, either. On a good day their goody-goody princess attitudes annoyed me as did the fact that Danielle went out of her way to claim them all as BFFs.
In truth, grounded or not, I actually enjoyed spending time at home getting to know Mom, and giving Alex the chance he’d come to deserve. It turned out I liked him. He told jokes so corny I found them funny, and knew how to pick good movies, too. I almost believed Mom lucked out in finding him.
“No.” I planned to go shopping and out to dinner with Mom and Alex.
“Why not? You can be Keaton’s date.” Simon patted his own back for coming up with it all by himself. “He just broke up with Dani.”
Good. She didn’t deserve Keaton.
“And if he shows up alone, there will be a mob. I am talking hair pulling, face scratching, fist throwing, girl fights.”
I wished he'd misspoke, but Keaton grew into one of those boys that all the girls--except for me--wanted to date. Good-looking and athletic with manners that made every mom in town wish her daughter had met him first. Keaton starred in his fair share of school girl fantasies. Mom said his name came up all the time in her shop whenever her customers discussed prospective dates for their daughters. She had even suggested it a time or two.
“You can save him from all of it by being his date.”
Keaton’s eyes widened, and I could tell he wanted me to say no so he wouldn’t be stuck with me all night. I wanted to say yes to screw with him, but I shook my head. “I’m sure he’ll be fine. Besides, he thinks I get kissed too much.” I might have been trying to cause a problem between them because his rejection still hurt. Maybe.
I stared at Keaton with one eyebrow raised, daring him to deny it. Keaton stared back, and Simon’s gaze darted from one of us to the other.
“You said that about Jocelyn?” He looked at Keaton, his eyes black with anger, disbelief raising the pitch of his voice.
In fairness, he didn’t know everything Keaton knew about that night.
“Not exactly,” Keaton replied, his gaze never straying from mine.
“Well, what exactly did you say?”
God love him. He gave Keaton’s shoulder a less than friendly shove, ready to fight for my honor. I didn’t want to add to my list of sins by setting Simon up to get his butt kicked by his best friend. Yet, I couldn’t fathom another reason why I stepped in to put a quick end to their impending argument.
“It’s nothing, Simon. Not worth talking about.”
Without tearing my gaze away from Keaton’s, I shook my head. “He was jealous of Eric, that’s all.” My tone sharpened and raised several octaves, but he’d captured me in a look so intense the rest of my body froze.
“I was never jealous of Eric.” His voice dropped to a hiss rather than its usual loud and boisterous tone.
“Eric is an asshole,” Simon chimed in. “Why would Keaton be jealous of him?”
It pissed me off that my brother always took Keaton’s side over mine. We’d shared a womb for goodness sake. Keaton couldn’t compete with that kind of history. “Go to hell, both of you,” I said, then stomped out of the kitchen and up the stairs where I slammed my door and flopped across my bed.
I fell asleep, missed dinner, and ended up waking around one-thirty in the morning. It took all of five seconds for me to realize I’d slept through until Saturday. My punishment ended while I napped. Mom popped her head in to say good night, and I happy danced across the hardwood. She stepped into my room and whirled around with me, clasping my hands in hers. “I’m ungrounded.”
“I know.” She laughed. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”
“Ten months.” Ten ridiculous months of solitude.
“Wow. I didn’t realize it’d been that long.”
I knew she had to be lying. Between the bitching, complaining, and incessant begging, I’d blown my opportunity for a daughter of the year trophy.
“Honey, have you talked to Simon tonight?” Her brows furrowed together.
“No. I was sleeping. Why?” My throat constricted, pulse quickened, and skin went cold. “Is he okay?”
She nodded. “He and Keaton got into a fight.”
“Like an argument?”
She shook her head.
My heart skipped a beat. I knew precisely what they’d fought over. I left her sitting on my bed and ran down the hall to Simon’s room. He sported a matching set of black eyes, a busted lip, and a jaw a little larger than usual. He leaned back against
his headboard watching the Three Stooges. “What the hell?” I sat down on his bed facing him. “This is my fault, isn’t it?”
He smiled at me as he shook his head. “No. This was between me and him.”
“Does it hurt?”
“Only when I move or blink.”
His face continued to swell, lids closing more by the minute. By morning, they would be swollen shut. I hurried into his bathroom, gathered a washcloth, and handed it to him. Then I retrieved some aspirin and a glass of water. I held them out and waited for him to accept.
“So what happened?”
He shook his head again, probably thinking I would let it go.
“What happened?”
“When we were leaving for pizza, we got into an argument. I punched him; he punched me. We rolled around on the ground for a while, beating the crap out of each other. Then it was over.”
He left out a lot of the pertinent details, but as the proud owner of one semi-working brain, I knew Simon better than anyone. He’d never been a fighter except over me.
“Don’t worry about it, Joss. We’re cool now.”
Humiliation engulfed me. I’d come between them, and it occurred to me every single bad moment in Simon’s life resulted from one of my mistakes. I shook my head and flopped backward on his bed. “You know, Simon, I try to be like you, to be good so Mom and Alex like me the way they like you. I want to get along, and I want to be better, but I must have some kind of crazy disease or something. Because no matter how hard I try, it doesn’t work.”
He chuckled and grabbed each of my hands to pull me up to face him. “You don’t have a disease. You are good. Mom and Alex love you the same as they do me. We’re different, that’s all.” He patted my hand. “They know you try. You just get it a little mixed up sometimes.”
I sat with Simon all through the night, but as soon as the sun peeked out, I snatched his car keys off the dresser and drove straight to Keaton’s house. Pounding on his door at the crack of dawn didn’t satisfy me nearly as much as I hoped pounding on his face would. He opened the door, rubbing his matching black eyes, then stepped half-way outside, bare-chested and in low-riding pajama pants. I ignored his in-my-face hotness and the bitching began.
Here He Comes Again Page 5