Kiss Me in Silicon Valley: The Juliette Trilogy (The Princesses of Silicon Valley - Book 2)

by Anita Claire

  “I take it you’re an ocean guy?”

  “I’m a water guy, swimming, water polo, surfing—I grew up in the water.”

  “Do you surf now?”

  “Yeah, on the weekends, I try to make it to one of the places down by Santa Cruz or up towards Half Moon Bay.”

  This fills in the missing weekends. Now I know what he’s doing.

  “How about you?” he volleys back.

  “Surfing?”

  “Yeah.”

  “In high school, I had some friends that surfed. I tried it. Even with a wetsuit, I would get freezing cold. It’s not so much being in the water as changing at the car. We’d go out for lunch after surfing, and I’d spend the entire time blue and shivering. I guess if I lived someplace where the water was warmer it would have been more fun. Also, I was rather overcommitted in high school and college. It’s a minimum of four hours to go surfing. I just didn’t have the time.”

  “What else did you do that was such a time commitment?’

  “In high school?”

  He nods, waits for my answer.

  “I played soccer, rode horses, and fenced. I had to give up swimming, you know, prioritize. There just weren’t enough hours in the day to do everything, plus go to school and do homework.

  Zach watches me speak, taking in what I’m saying, slowly nodding.

  “Where did you surf growing up?”

  “Topanga Beach was the closest.”

  “You grew up in Pacific Palisades?”

  “Actually, Santa Monica. In high school my buddies and I liked surfing Topanga, sometimes we’d head up to Zuma.”

  The server comes for our order. Zach tips his head and lifts his glass towards me, I nod, and he orders me another drink. I’m a true lightweight and hope the second drink comes with my food. Getting sloppy drunk is not a good idea.

  My drink is starting to hit, I can feel it’s relaxing effect on my jaw, which no longer feels so tight, and I have less desire to nervously play with my curls.

  “Where were we?” I squint as I look at him. “Talking about surfing, right?”

  Our conversation continues. Like most engineers, Zach isn’t a big talker. He’s more of an observer, but this is becoming nice and easy. I like that he’s an active listener. We share some sushi. After the second drink, I’m even more relaxed.

  When my dinner arrives Zach watches me play with my food. “Are you going to eat that?”

  We wind up trading plates—his empty for my almost full plate. After finishing my meal, he explains, “I played soccer at lunch.”

  “If your brother has an appetite like yours, your mom won’t have to worry about leftovers.”

  He nods his head in agreement. “One of the things I like best about work is the food. It’s so much better than college.”

  “It doesn’t hurt that it’s free.”

  “Yeah, that’s nice. I was on a meal plan at school so I never really thought about cost then either. The food at work is really good, as good as any restaurant. I’d hate to have to shop and prepare my own food.”

  Looking at his shirt, I say, “And it looks like you’re on the wardrobe plan too.”

  A dimple appears, he holds out his shirt, “I haven’t had to buy any clothes in three years.” I think to myself this must make him twenty-five, unless he did grad school as I ask, “Did you start working right after getting your degree?”

  He nods his head, “Actually I stayed another year to get my masters.”

  Twenty-six.

  At the end of dinner Zach asks for the check, making it clear he’s paying. I still offer. With a smile, he shakes his head and says, “I’ve got it.”

  It feels nice being with him, I think, as we head back to the car and drive back to my place. The lights are off, so I know Cassie’s not home. Zach parks, and takes my hand as he walks me to the door.

  On the stairs, he turns me around again. He has a half smile as he looks at me; I get a sly smile knowing what’s coming next. Our bodies are close; I can feel the heat coming off him. Then he leans down and kisses me gently on the lips as he says, “Do you want to let me in, so we don’t give the neighborhood a show.”

  I nod, then let go of his hand, thrash around my purse to find my keys and then open the front door. As I step inside I can feel him behind me closing the door. I walk towards the couch, drop my purse and coat over the back. Slowly turning around, he’s close. My thigh leans against the couch. He places a hand on my hip. He turns slightly so he’s sitting down on the back of the couch, with his hand on my hip he brings me around, positioning me between his spread legs. Our height differential is nearly gone. The moonlight from the window highlights his face. He’s watching my lips as they slowly part. We’re both breathing slow and deep. He smells like chlorine and Axe. They both seem to be turning me on. The butterflies in my stomach race up my shoulders—to the base of my neck. Raising my right hand, I place it over his heart. As I feel the warmth of his chest, his heart beats strongly under his flat, defined pec muscles. He flexes his fingers as they lay over my hips, moving me a little closer while he bends in and slowly kisses my lower lip. Leaning into him slightly, I kiss his upper lip. With the tips of my finger running against his bare skin, I draw my hand over his wrist, along his arm, slowly, until I’m holding his bicep, gently stroking the contours of the well-defined muscle with my thumb. He shutters slightly from my touch. We continue to kiss gently, sweetly. His large hands span my hips, his fingers on my butt. A slow rhythm of kissing ensues. His hands lightly flex along my hips to the rhythm of our kissing, creating another heartbeat. At some point, his tongue flicks my lower lip, and then enters my mouth. Gasping slightly, the kissing becomes deeper, more intense. My body comes alive, my chest and core prickles with excitement, while my groin pulses in response. Zach lifts his hand and delicately cups my jaw, cheek, and neck; pulling me even closer, our kissing intensifies again, my tongue against his tongue. My hand is still on his heart, my thumb flexing lightly to match the cadence of our kisses. His heartbeat is strong, fast. Our mouths and tongues join rhythmically. He gently moves my body even closer. Close enough to feel through his jeans that he’s getting hard. His hand moves down cupping my butt and then slowly he raises his hand so it snakes under my sweater. Feeling his warm fingers and palm on my lower back only intensifies the tingly feeling in my core. A deep moan escapes from the base of his throat. Surprising me, I hear a higher-pitched one escaping from mine. Our kissing becomes even more intense as I contemplate how to lift my legs so I can straddle him.

  Suddenly the lights come on, “So, this is what you do when I’m not home.”

  Startled, I stop leaning on Zach and turn my head to see Cassie, with a Cheshire grin, hanging out by the front door.

  “You going to introduce me to your friend, or are you just going to let him break the back of my couch?”

  Zach jumps up with that comment. One of his hands is still on the skin of my back, while the other drops down next to his side. The two of us are like deer in the headlights.

  Zach gets his bearings before I do. He clears his throat. “I’m Zack, a friend of Juliette’s.”

  “Well, with your tongue down her throat and your hand on her ass, I would hope you’re a friend.”

  Just then, I hear other voices. A group of people enters behind her. Cassie gives me a sly smile and a shrug of the shoulder.

  Two large men and one of the shockingly beautiful, high styled women from the other night enter.

  Zach speaks into my ear, “Really? Again?”

  I nod as I think the same thing, damn; Cassie says she has sex-dar. She must have some kind of bizarre internal clock that tells her whenever I’m making out with a guy. What is it with my friends? Why do they have to show up at all the wrong moments?

  The blond has a Champagne bottle in her hand. She’s wearing a very short skirt and very high heels. One of the guys is Luke, the other looks like a football player, though I have no idea who he is.

  Th
e blond says, “Looks like we interrupted a private party—would you like some Champagne?”

  Cassie is now in the kitchen calling out, “Juliette, do we have Champagne glasses?”

  Pulling myself together, I manage to say, “If we do, they’re next to the wine glasses.” Giving a weak smile to the blond and the guys, I say, “Hi, I’m Juliette, Cassie’s roommate.” Pointing over my shoulder with my thumb, I say, “and this is Zach.”

  Luke ignores me.

  The blond says, “Hey,” without giving us her name.

  The other guy dips his head in acknowledgment. “I’m Steve.”

  Zach smiles. “Yeah, I watched you at Cal.”

  Steve smiles. “Yeah, you went to Cal?”

  “Yeah, I was there the same time you were.”

  “Cool.”

  Then Cassie yells, “Jackpot!”

  The blond hands Steve the champagne bottle. “Hey, baby, can you help me with this?”

  Zach and I watch as the four of them congregate in the kitchen.

  With a loud pop, Steve opens the champagne.

  Zach leans close to my ear and says, “I have a feeling we’re not really invited to this party.”

  Cassie yells over, “Juliette, what did you tell that guy I did for a living?”

  Leaning back against Zach, I say, “I told him you were a quantum physicist.”

  Zach puts his arm around me as we listen to Cassie laughing.

  “Juliette, what’s a number thing I can say, so they think I’m smart?”

  My back resonates with Zach’s chuckling. “Cassie, physicists don’t use numbers.”

  “Oh, I thought they were math people.”

  “Just tell them after taking your first quantum mechanics class, you were hooked. I guarantee no one will ask you to solve any problems. If they ask you to do any arithmetic just blow them off by saying real physicists don’t bother with numbers.”

  Talking into my hair, Zach says, “Does anyone ask you to prove you’re an engineer?”

  Leaning sideways and tilting my head up so he can hear me, I respond, “Only every day at work.”

  We watch Cassie pour the Champagne. She yells over, “Do you guys want some?”

  Zach says into my hair, “Only if you want some.”

  I shrug my shoulders. “We can be sociable.”

  We enter the kitchen as Cassie pours each of us a glass. Surprised when I see the bottle, I say, “Cristal, wow, what’s the occasion?”

  With a straight face and in a snobby tone, Cassie looks directly in my eyes and says, “We only travel first class.”

  We both laugh and say, “Jadyeen Malac,” in unison.

  For Zach’s sake, I tell the story. “In Junior High there was this snobby and spoiled girl, Jaydeen Malac. We had a class trip to Washington DC. Of course, we all flew coach. Jaydeen had a fit, and said, ‘We only fly first class.’ This became a favorite line with our friends after that.”

  Everyone clinks glasses and cheers, for what, I don’t know. The Champagne tastes good, even for someone who’s only had Champagne a handful of times. Reflecting, I’m only familiar with Cristal because of Stephan. Knowing about wine was one of his worldly traits. Stephan made a big deal of drinking Cristal last year for New Year’s.

  Zach and I hang out with the others for a while. Zach is cool, he doesn’t act star struck or too sports geeky, and I like that. At some point, he takes me by the hand and leads me to the front door.

  At the door, he says, “I enjoyed tonight, but I need to leave. Are you cool here?”

  “Oh, yeah, I’m getting use to sleeping with my earbuds in.”

  He squints his eyes in confusion on that one.

  In a soft voice, I say, “Have a safe drive, enjoy your family, and surf hard.”

  Smiling, he kisses me on my lips, groaning, he pulls back and says, “You taste too good. If I don’t leave now, I’ll never leave.”

  One side of me wants to drag him to my room, shutting out Cassie’s sex noises with sex noises of my own. The other side says Zach’s leaving town early, I’m not sleeping with a guy for the first time that will leave in the middle of the night.

  Closing the door, I pick up my purse and jacket as I head to bed, saying goodnight to people who aren’t paying me any attention.

  Chapter 17 – Running with Meredith

  It feels good to sleep in. As I lay in bed, I reflect back on my date last night. My face flushes just thinking about that kiss. I’ve enjoyed texting with Nate, but, really, who am I kidding, Zach is great. Without even thinking about it I pick up my phone and check my messages. Nate’s texted me. I’m looking forward to something funny or sweet when I read: On the road, big storm heading for the Dakotas and Wyoming. Driving to SLC with a resident, eating with his family.

  The text was sent at nine last night, probably while I was making out with Zach. This gives my belly a twinge of duplicitous confusion. It looks like the text is sent to a group. I try to figure out how to make my answer a little flirty but give up, I just make sure to send my reply to him only.

  Me: Safe journey, enjoy dinner in SLC, see you soon.

  Looking up his route on Google maps, I see that it’s an eighteen-hour drive from Rochester, Minnesota to Salt Lake City, Utah. I’m glad he’s driving with someone else. They must be going straight through, taking turns. The weather map shows the storm hasn’t hit yet.

  Meredith and I meet for our run. She got up even earlier to get ready for Thanksgiving. We discuss her “to do” list—she has a ton of frustrations to get off her chest. Sam’s a good guy; he’s just a typical guy and doesn’t get the importance of details for a party. I then breach what’s been bothering me. “You got cozy real fast with Amanda.”

  “It’s just nice to hang with another couple. Too many of our friends are single.”

  “I was a couple.”

  “Yeah, last year.”

  “Why’d you tell Amanda about Nate? She just might blab that fact to Zach.”

  “Didn’t you just have a date with Zach last night?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Zach’s way too mellow, he needed a little competition.”

  “Is this some fact Amanda filled you in on?”

  Exasperated Meredith says, “Yes, Frankly the two of us thought if Zach knew there was some guy texting you, who’s going to be in town next week, it would get him off his butt and finally ask you out…and it worked.”

  “Wait! Amanda told Zach about Nate?”

  “Yes, and he asked you out. So it worked.”

  My chest fills with dread. This is way too scary. There might be conflict. I might have two guys fighting for me. What will I do then?

  At home, I shower, and then make the stuffed mushrooms. Cassie drags herself out of bed at around ten thirty and joins me on the couch; I have no idea where Luke is.

  “Did you have fun last night?” she asks as she wiggles her eyebrows.

  “What’s the female equivalent of a cock block?” I ask.

  “Oh, poor Juliette was making out with a guy and got interrupted.” She mugs in reply.

  “What is it with you? You don’t see me interrupting your little encounters, Cassie.”

  “That’s because I take them back to my room, instead of playing high school on the sofa.”

  “I’ll remember that.” After pausing to close my eReader, I continue, “Anyway, thanks for sharing your Champagne. I never did figure out what you were celebrating.”

  “We were just celebrating. You don’t need a special occasion to have Champagne.”

  She turns on HGTV. We both sit back and watch.

  During a commercial, Cassie says, “You know the only problem with dating a football player?—all the football.”

  Chapter 18 – Thanksgiving at Meredith’s

  At noon, I grab my stuffed mushrooms and head over to Meredith’s. She and Sam have lucked out, the sky is clear blue and the temperature is in the high sixties and expecting to top out in the low seventies. We ne
ed rain, but I’m sure not going to complain about our nice weather. The aroma of smoking turkey permeates the air as I walk to their gate. After entering their patio I spot Rocket splayed out on a chair with a beer in his hand. He’s wearing long shorts, black socks, sneakers, and an XC logoed T-shirt. Near him is Sam fiddling with the BBQ. Walking over I juggle my plate on my hip, put my hand on Sam’s shoulder as I lean in and kiss his cheek. “Happy Thanksgiving” Then, turning towards Rocket, I say, “Hi, I’m Juliette; we met at Moe’s last month.”

  Rocket smiles and raises his red Solo cup. “Rocket.”

  “Happy Thanksgiving.” I say with cheer. Not sure what to say next, I add, “I’ll head in and see if Meredith needs some help.”

  Their apartment is small and old; the walls are all freshly painted warm beige, except for the one, red accent wall. Along one end of the room is the kitchen, made up of a sink flanked by single cabinets on either side with a relatively new but low-end refrigerator and oven on each end. Sam built an island out of old pallets, which is lined on one side by four wooden stools. The center of the room has an old couch with a dark beige cover and red pillows. An old red and beige fake Persian rug covers most of the floor. The red wall has a big flat screen TV on it. An old dresser that’s painted black serves as a TV credenza; the coffee table is made from old pallets sanded smooth. Two doors are on the far wall; one leads to a bathroom the other to their bedroom.

  Meredith, Jennifer, and Hita are all in the kitchen. Jennifer greets me with a margarita.

  Looking at Jennifer, I raise one eyebrow. “I see you brought Rocket; things must be going well.”

  She gives me a coy smile, starts to gush. “He’s so sweet, we’re having the nicest time.”

  Standing behind her is Hita, who’s rolling her eyes and silently pretending she’s gagging.

  “Wow, from what Kelly says I wouldn’t use the words sweet to describe Rocket.” I say.

  It’s now Jennifer’s turn to roll her eyes. “Oh, that’s just what he was like when he was riding. Once you get to know him he’s just so…nice…sweet…wonderful.” She gushes.