by Lindsey Hart
John slips his big hand through mine and squeezes comfortingly. He sets an easy pace, and I fall into step, our flip flops snapping in time.
For a while, we don’t say anything. The park is beautiful. There’s a walking path surrounded by green grass on both sides. It skirts in a large loop around the oval-shaped man-made lake. As usual, there are plenty of birds on the lake, and a few in the trees planted strategically around the park. It’s been here for a while, so the flowers in the beds, the shrubs, and the greenery are well established.
“So. Are you going to tell me more about those books you like?”
John’s fingers tighten around mine. “I’m almost afraid to. The last time ended in disaster.”
I squeeze back playfully. “It won’t this time. Unless you trip over your own feet and fall on your own face. That will be the only disaster I can see happening.”
“You won’t shove me into the lake?”
“The lake is a good ten feet off the path. I think it would take a lot of shoving and pushing to get you into it.”
“It looks like it has the itch.”
“What’s the itch?” I laugh.
“The algae, I think. I don’t actually know, but my cousins live up north in Wisconsin on a farm, and they had a dugout. When we were ten or twelve or something—I can’t remember what age I was—my family went to visit for a week because we didn’t have the money to go on an all-out family vacation. It was great. We all had a lot of fun. My cousins were all around the same age, as me and my brother. My sister was a bit younger. She didn’t bother us much, which was nice since we pretty much ran wild.”
“That’s horrible of you to leave her out.”
“She thanked us later. Anyway, she had my mom and aunt to hang out with. So, we ended up thinking it was a good idea to go swimming in the dugout even though my aunt and uncle told us to stay out of there. I thought they were worried about us drowning.”
“And, of course, you didn’t listen.”
“Nope. We went ahead and skinny-dipped in there in the middle of the day. I guess there’s algae or a parasite in the water that can cause massive itching. I think we all itched for days. It was horrible.”
“Sounds like poetic justice.”
“You have a heart of stone, my lady.” John turns his face from where he’d been watching the lake and looks at me. His smile is so warm that I know he doesn’t mean a word of it.
“The hardest,” I respond cheerfully. It occurs to me that I’m way too happy.
I’m turning into the thing I always hated. A big, sappy, lovesick mess. Not that I’m in love. Heck no. I’m just throwing that term out there because crushing mess or falling mess or captivated mess doesn’t sound right. It doesn’t do what I feel justice. I feel a little like I’ve fallen into the dugout myself. Only to emerge half-drowned and itching all over.
“Tell me more,” I say, half because I want to know and half to distract myself from my own thoughts. “Tell me about your family.”
“My family, hmm?” John thinks hard. Beside us, birds call on the lake. There are so many different kinds and different calls. It’s comical. “I don’t know what to say. I have a brother. He’s two years younger. And a sister who is five years younger. My parents work hard. My dad mostly worked night shifts. He took the same kind of jobs, just whatever was available. Anything from factory-style work to janitorial shifts. My mom worked as a receptionist. She’s been at the same medical clinic since we made the move to Miami.”
“Are they retired now?”
“No.” John shakes his head. There’s something in his face, something wistful and sad that makes me feel bad for asking the question. “I’d really like to do that for them, though. We didn’t have a lot growing up or even when I got older, but we had enough. They put money aside for each of us so we would have a fund for college. They invested in us instead of their own future. I remember our childhood was really happy, even though my brother and I were pretty bad, not that we knew it at the time. We were just very active boys who got into a lot of trouble. I don’t know how my mom put up with us. I think she was glad to have Danni, our sister. If she’d been a boy, I don’t think mom would have survived raising us all.” His voice is soft, the kind of soft tone people get when they fondly recall their youth.
“It sounds like fun.”
“It was. It was great. But then again, that was back in the day before the internet or real technology, so we had to rely on ourselves and our imaginations.”
John is a few years older than me. I may have sneaked a peek at his file from his interview, and since his resume was in there, and it had a good list of dates for when he graduated high school and college and such, I know he’s thirty-five.
“We didn’t actually get a computer until I was fifteen, and it was a piece of garbage. You could hardly do anything on it, but I wasn’t really that interested until I was older and went to college. I took a few computer science classes and did some coding, and I found it interesting. I was always good at math, though, and it was kind of like that.”
“Ugh, I took Business too, and I hated the computer classes. I sucked at all of it. And I’m not good at math.”
“You do accounting!” John gapes at me.
“I know. I guess I wanted to prove I could do it.”
“That’s pretty incredible.”
“Yeah, well…” I shrug. “I know a lot of people who go to school for things they don’t like because they want a job after. My mom and Bill would never have pushed me into taking something I didn’t want to do, but I wanted to be useful to them after. I guess that’s part of having a family business. Then there was Lucas’s shadow. My parents divorced when I was still pretty young, and then my mom got remarried to Bill. Lucas is his son. He’s six years older than me, so we never really had any good adventures when we were younger. I was twelve, and he was eighteen when our parents got married. Lucas got a Business Degree, so I wanted one too. I didn’t want him to have all the fun. Just getting handed my piece of the company didn’t feel right. I wanted to earn it.”
A guy in his early twenties, wearing tight spandex shorts and a muscle shirt, jogs by. I think he might actually be crazy since he doesn’t have an oxygen container on his back, and it’s impossible to even breathe past the humidity right now. My skin is so damp that my dress is clinging.
“I guess we both have something to live up to. I need to find another store like the Smyth’s, so I can prove to a certain someone that I’m as useful as her brother.”
“Oh lord,” I fake groan. I spin into John, wishing there were some real bushes I could pull him into. Then again, this is a public place, and bushes don’t muffle the sounds of moans or me screaming his name when we get carried away. The thought makes me even warmer, from the inside out. I reach up and twine my hands around his neck. “John, I’m sorry. I acted like a crazy person. I couldn’t even figure out what was bothering me until I figured out it was just...you. I’ve never felt like this before.”
Why did I just say that? I let out a gasp, untangle myself quickly, and set off at a blistering pace like I really am trying to qualify for a spot on the Olympic team. John catches up with me easily—his long strides overtaking me.
“Hey.” He reaches out and grasps my hand. He plants his feet, and I’m forced to stop or risk getting my arm yanked right off.
“I’m sorry.” I can’t look at him, so I look at the asphalt walking path and my toes. “It was way too soon to say anything like that.”
“No, it wasn’t. Or maybe it was.” John tilts my face up with his other hand. His fingers are blistering hot against my skin. “It’s okay. You’re not going to scare me off. I feel the same way. We don’t have to talk about that until we’re ready, though. We can both just forget we put it out there.”
“Okay,” I whisper.
“Okay.” John starts walking again, and since he’s still holding my hand, I start walking again too.
My insides feel all squiggl
y like I was forced to eat an entire head of raw cabbage and onions. For the record, cabbage and onions don’t agree with me. Coleslaw is not my friend. I remember the first time my mom made me eat it. I had never been in so much pain in my life. After that, I got a pass on having to eat it at dinner. I feel a good portion of that pain at the moment.
The last time I tried this, and the time before that, and the time before that, I didn’t have very good luck. It was kind of like the coleslaw. An effing disaster. I got hurt. It’s not an experience I want to repeat, and now I’m rushing and stumbling and falling into this.
John is different. He’s not going to hurt me. I want to believe that. I really do.
“Hey? Are you okay?”
I realize I’ve been pretty ominously silent since my big declaration. And John’s. It wasn’t just mine. “Yeah.” I force a smile and focus on the lake. “Sorry.”
“That’s fine.”
“I—I should tell you about my friends.” I really need to change the subject. “I went to boarding school when I was twelve. My mom wanted me to get a good education. It sounded kind of fun, and I agreed to give it a try. It wasn’t actually that bad, even if it was an all-girls thing. I met my best friends there. Rin and Aria. They’re amazing.”
“Aria? Your brother’s girlfriend?”
“Yeah. Anyway, that didn’t happen until recently. I always thought they hated each other.”
“It’s always the haters that fall the hardest. Hate and love are too close. They’re too wrapped up in each other. And opposites are supposed to attract.”
My heart quickens, and my pulse starts jackhammering at my wrists and neck. Suddenly, it’s really hot out. “I should tell you about Rin’s story. It’s even crazier. She had this ex-boyfriend who was basically the biggest asshole in the entire world. He started dating this nineteen-year-old model right after he broke up with her. It was humiliating. She ran a fashion empire, and she was totally humiliated in the tabloids. Anyway, Aria cooked up this scheme that she should get back at the guy by dating this superhot model. It was a horrible plan, but it worked out. Aiden and Rin have been engaged for a couple of years now. They’re happy. They live in Denver now, in a log cabin.”
“That’s quite a change.”
“It is. I miss them. My best friends used to be right here. We’d hang out with each other all the time. We had girls night. Now they’re gone. We text and call each other, and we visited Rin a lot, and she came here, but it’s not the same. Now Aria is gone, probably for over a year. She’s sassy and bossy and likes to put on a tough front and pretend she’s all hard and feels nothing, but she’s the best. They’re like my sisters.” I realize how self-pitying that sounds, but John doesn’t call me out on it.
“My brother and sister still live here. I see them a lot. If they moved away, I’d miss them. We don’t have any weird sibling rivalry or even pretend to hate each other. We’ve always been pretty close.”
“That’s good. That’s really good. Yeah.”
“My parents always wanted to take this trip to Europe. To go and see everything. Castle, vineyards, beaches, buildings, all the historical spots. They haven’t taken it yet. All three of us have been saving up to get them the trip. We decided on it a few years ago. It would be expensive, and they’d lose a few weeks of work. We’re hoping to convince them once we have the money saved up. After that, in a few years, we’d like to help them retire. I doubt they’ll take the help, though.”
John suddenly stops. I stop too. Beside us, on the lake, there’s a strange bird call that sounds a lot like someone yelling in a completely flat voice, waabaa waabaa. Waabaa waabaa.
When I look up at John, I’m surprised to see his eyes misted over. He glances away, obviously embarrassed. My heart squeezes in my chest. A little lower, it feels like I just ingested some more coleslaw.
“It’s dusty out. Yeah, really dusty. I—I had this happen to me a few days ago. Dust getting under my contacts.”
“You wear contacts?”
“No.” It feels good. Exposing the more human, soft, gooey side that I hardly ever let anyone in on. I’m not sure about John, but I’d place a wager on him not letting most people see this more sensitive side of him, either.
“Contacts.” John pinches the bridge of his nose. “The dust really is bad for them. Gets right underneath and blinds you.”
“We can go back to my house, and you can clean them out. Or something. I can try my hand at making dinner.”
John struggles to keep a straight face. “I brought the box. It’s in the trunk of my car.”
“Probably melting! Most people just tuck a couple in their wallet.” I imagine the box of condoms and its contents in a melted mass of unidentifiable rubber. I seriously hope John is kidding.
He winks at me. “I might have done that too. But you should be aware that I’m not normal.”
“Oh, I’m very well aware.”
“Normal people don’t think about dragging their date into the lake and putting on an X-rated show. Or trying to hide while wedged up against the base of one of those palms. Or even trying to get into those waist-high hedges.”
“Oh god,” I snort. Now the coleslaw feeling is turning into straight liquid fire. This afternoon turned out to be not so bad despite my massive slip up and crazy confession. I clasp John’s hand a little harder. “If only you knew how far from normal that makes me too.”
CHAPTER 17
Cassie
John did come over. I cooked dinner. We ate and then spent a lot of time doing nothing at all. I mean, we clearly did something. We enjoyed each other. I’ve never taken a shower with anyone before, and I shouldn’t have. Now I think I might be ruined for life on showering alone.
I had to draw the line at letting him spend the night. I didn’t want to be ruined on sleeping alone too. I like my king-sized bed. I like my space. I don’t like a big, sweaty, snoring, sticky, stinky man rolling onto me in the middle of the night and crushing the life out of me. I don’t like a dude grabbing me and pulling me into him. I don’t like him breathing his morning breath all over my face.
The fact that I thought about doing all of that with John, and actually liking it, pushed me to make it pretty clear I wasn’t ready for him to sleep over. He accepted it with grace because he’s John, and he’s way too freaking good. He assured me—and he was completely genuine about it—he understood and could wait.
After he left, I spent hours tossing and turning in bed, wishing he was here. I could smell him on my pillows, on my sheets, and on my skin. My body was deliciously sore, a not so subtle reminder of everything that happened in and out of those rumpled sheets, and I kept playing it back in my head until I was burning up and ridiculously unsatisfied.
I don’t normally sleep in, but when I jolt upright in bed, the sun is streaming through the slats in the fabric blinds on my windows, and it’s clear that it’s probably afternoon.
I leap out of bed frantically and disoriented before I realize the doorbell woke me up.
I scramble out of the bedroom. It’s Sunday. No one rings my doorbell on a Sunday. I know my mom and Bill are busy this weekend, and Lucas is gone. Aria and Rin don’t live here anymore, and no one delivers packages on a Sunday.
My nipples are already hard little peaks through my thin cotton nightgown when I reach the door. I take a second to smooth my trembling hands over my wild, knotted up hair. I rub the sleep out of my eyes and hope I don’t have sheet creases on my face.
We don’t have plans today, but I know it’s John out there. Who else can it be? My lady bits are already jamming wildly, letting me know they didn’t sleep in just because I did. They’re ready for round six. Or seven. Or is it eight? Does it count if we took a ten-hour break in between?
How the hell can I be this excited when John was just here? Inside of me? Multiple times. Multiple orgasms. I should not be capable of feeling this level of lust.
I edge open the door and try to hide behind it, so the neighbors d
on’t get an eyeful of my pink flower nightie. It’s on the short and low-cut side. I don’t like sleeping naked, but I don’t like sleeping all bundled up and smothered in clothes either.
It’s not John.
I’m disappointed for a split second before I let out a squeal and launch myself at the person standing on my doorstep. Rin. Rin is here!
“Surprise!” She squeals. A huge grin splits her face in half. She opens her arms and catches me as I hurtle into them.
“Oh my god, what are you doing here?” I do a little tiptoe happy dance in my nightgown and all. Rin takes one look at my attire and sweeps me inside, shutting the door behind us.
“I wanted to surprise you.”
“You did!” I realize I’m standing there in my nightie, and I quickly throw my hands over my chest and tug it down at the same time. “Let me get dressed, and I’ll get you some coffee. Or tea.”
“Or wine?”
“It’s not that late!”
“Sorry, just wanted to keep Aria with us in spirit.”
Rin looks good. A sight for sore eyes doesn’t even begin to cover what I feel. I haven’t seen her in person for a few months. I want to wrap my arms around her again and hug the life out of her, but I’m not wearing anything under my nightie, and I doubt she wants my bits falling out all over her yellow maxi dress, which is pretty and covered with embroidery. She probably doesn’t want to burn it after.
We’ve seen each other naked more times than I can count, but I’m generally the modest one, and I’m pretty sure Rin draws the line at coming into contact with certain regions.
“Just—uh—sit down. On the couch. Or at the table. Or the island. Or wherever. I’m going to get dressed.” I rush to my room and throw on a pair of jeans and a flowy tank. I run back to the kitchen when I hear dishes rattling in there.