The J Project

by Karli James

  I’m currently sorting through my closet for a trendy, “I tried, but not really” outfit. I don’t want to be done up for Ruth’s Diner, but I also want to kind of knock him on his ass a bit. I have normal girl insecurities. Okay, maybe more than normal. I’m aware of my thighs touching, and my overly full breasts, and my booty that just won’t quit. The cup runneth over. I want to feel a hundred percent confident in who I am, I really do, but I know that even when I’m healthy, and fit, my body is not typically what attracts men. And when I think of what my ex used to cram down my throat; how he used to cut me down with backhanded compliments, suggesting diet fads, and pointing out girls with physical features he admired, well, all that self-doubt has a way of sneaking right back up like the bitch she is and slapping in me in the face. In the head. In the heart. Fuck it hurts all over again.

  Rationally I realize that Jude must find me attractive on some level, but I won’t lie and say that I don’t wonder when that will fade. When he’ll look at me and realize his sexy self could do so much better than me in the looks department. Ugh! I can’t stand myself right now.

  I find a pair of black leggings, a long, flowy coral color tunic, with matching camisole for underneath, and ballet flats. It will have to be good enough. I shower, dry my hair and leave it in soft beachy waves around my face. Natural make up; just a light powder, some peachy gloss across my lips, and one quick coat of mascara to bring out my lashes. This will have to do. I will have to do. I will have to be good enough. I am good enough. I’m totally good enough. Just as I am. Yep. I believe it now! Shaking my head at myself I check my phone for the time. Ruth’s is pretty much right around the corner from my apartment complex so I know I can make a quick walk of it rather than driving. I grab my purse and keys and head out. I decide to go ahead and stop at the mailboxes before I head over to the diner.

  As I’m approaching, I see a notice a guy digging around in his mailbox. His backside is incredibly attractive in a pair of gym shorts. Soft grey tee is stretched across his shoulders and back, the ends of his wavy-almost curly dark brown hair fringed up along the sides of his baseball cap. Dang, who is this guy and how have I never noticed him before? He obviously lives here if he’s checking his mail. Laughing at myself I walk to my mailbox, insert my key and glance out of the corner of my eye to catch this guy’s profile. Long thick lashes…wait a second…

  “Jude?” Jude’s head whips around to face me and his jaw nearly meets the ground like a 1980s cartoon character.

  “Kara? What are you doing here? I was just on my way to the diner to meet you. Wait, how did you know where I lived?” He looks wary, and if the situation wasn’t so friggen stupid I would be laughing.

  “You…live here? In this complex?” It’s then that he notices my key in the mailbox and a sly smile creeps across his face as he shakes his head.

  “You have GOT to be shitting me.”

  “I shit you not.” He throws his gorgeous head back and laughs, while I’m still standing there like a moron trying to figure how this could be happening. How it’s real.

  “Kara. Only my life. Only would I spend weeks trying to find you all over this town when I could have just walked around this apartment complex. This is…unbelievable. You’ve been so close, yet so far away this whole damn time.” I watch as a soft smile touches his lips and I think that’s the most handsome he’s ever been to me. Sweet. Happy. So, damn jovial that I’m standing in front of him.

  “This is unreal.”

  “Yes, very. You look gorgeous by the way.” His eyes crinkle at the sides and I can see the sincerity in them. Those green irises look straight into me, and I feel myself walking toward him—almost mesmerized by the moment. By him.

  “Thank you. I can’t believe you’re here. That you live here. I can’t get over it. It’s almost…amazing.”

  “Extremely. This is gonna make drunken slumber parties so much easier BFF!” I cannot help but laugh at how insane he is.

  “Drunken slumber parties? That sounds…tricky.”

  “Not if you know what you’re doing, sweetheart.” And there it is. That smirk that makes my vajeen stand up and take notice of available peen; my panties are trying to melt off my body, and dammit, no. I need my panties to NOT melt. That smirk is the most glorious shade of trouble I’ve ever seen.

  “Alright slick, well since you’re here and all...wanna walk together to the diner?”

  “I do yes. Definitely need my second dose of caffeine. Maybe some bacon.”

  “Definitely bacon.” Just then Jude surprises me with an arm thrown over my shoulder, it’s casual but natural as I lean into his side and look up at him.

  “I think I missed you, Boo Bear.”

  “Boo Bear? I think I missed you too, in some strange way.”

  “You only think? Dang woman, you wound me.”

  “Don’t start. I’ve been distracted by Rachel and Heath.” He chuckles.

  “Oh, those two crazy kids. They’re a hoot.”

  “Actually, they really are. A little dense though right?” He barks out a laugh.

  “Very, very dense. They figure it out though. There’s always an HEA in my books.”

  “What’s an HEA?”

  “A happily ever after.” With that he winks at me, stops to pull open the door to Ruth’s, and as I step by him to walk in, he presses his hand at the small of my back. It’s a light touch that feels suddenly intimate, and I have to refrain from leaning back into him. Because I want to. I really want to lean, and feel the heat of his chest on my back. I want to twist my head to the side and feel his lips press against my erratic pulse.

  Sweet Lawd, I need to get it the hell together before I embarrass myself completely.

  We walk to the table in the back corner and slide into our seats. I pull out a menu to peruse the breakfast options. I feel Jude’s eyes on me and look up. He’s giving me that soft expression again and I’m fighting the urge to lean over and kiss his full lips. I don’t know what’s going on with me. He’s wooed me in like three days of textship, and maybe I’m under the spell of his romance writing, but he’s so handsome and giving me a look like he could look at me for…forever.

  “Jude.” He slow blinks. Shakes his head at himself.

  “Yeah, Kara.”

  “You okay?”

  “Never been better. Thank you for wanting to do this—for wanting to see me again.”

  “Thank you for proving to me that you think I’m worth it; worth fighting to see again.” It’s suddenly gotten a bit fucking serious up in here, and I am feeling some tingles at the front of my nose, and I’ll be damned if my eyes mist up right now.

  “Kara. Let’s just put this out there, right now. I like you. I like you so much it’s stupid. I also know that I don’t deserve you. I don’t. I mean who really would? You’re Kara. You’re beyond exceptional. I look at you, and I’m honestly floored by what I see and even more so because I know you don’t see what I see. I think about you all the time. I wait for your texts like a hormonal teenager; begging my phone to ping with a new text.

  “I think you’re smart, and sassy, and so damn funny. I like you, and I don’t deserve you, but I will always do what I have to do to prove that you’re worth every single bit of fight I have.” I’m sitting there, willing tears to leave my eyeballs because dammit, that was unexpected and so sweet, and he’s a ROMANCE WRITER. Of course, he can say shit like this, except I’m looking at his honest and open face and I know he means it. I know he really means this and he’s right, I don’t see what he sees and I don’t get it, because he’s so…him.

  “You’re kind of lovely.” Jude blushes. A lovely shade of red creeps up his neck to his hairline and it’s the perfect antidote to my tears, because now I’m grinning at how endearing he is. Never would I have guessed that I could make Jude Lawson blush.

  “Shut up.” But he’s smirking.

  “Let’s order all the bacon and talk about Rachel and Heath, and then…whatever else.”

 
“Sounds good. Oh look, they also have cranberry orange muffs.” I burst out laughing.

  “You’re such an ass! But I’m getting one of those because, yum.” He grins and winks.

  “Yeah. Yum.”

  Chapter 11

  Jude

  Umm. Right, so. I’ve lived a good life. Done some super fun things. Taken a few adventures. Seen some beautiful things. However, nothing has been as amazing as watching Kara eat. This girl…I mean zero shame.

  There’s a little bacon grease on her lips, and she’s laughing about my characters, and how dumb they’re being because they’re resisting the inevitable (classic frenemies), while she shoves another bite of muffin into her mouth. I love that she’s not afraid to eat in front of me. I love that she’s so passionate about my writing. I love the way she looks up at me through her lashes when she’s trying to hide her physical responses to my flirting.

  I’m not putting all of my cards on the table, but I do want her to understand that I like her. That I will always want to fight for her. That she’s worth so much more than I could ever give her. The way she looked at me as I expressed my heart like a total pussy—worth it. If being a pussy means putting that look in her eyes, and the breathlessness in her voice, the pulse pounding in her neck, well then, I will be a pussy every damn minute of every damn day. Sign me up for the Victoria’s Secret catalogue because this pussy is here to stay. Note: I appreciate lace.

  Her hands are moving wildly about her face as she’s talking, and I can’t help but grin at her enthusiasm.

  “So how long until Sarah’s story comes out?”

  “Hmm, from now to launch…probably another two or three months, as I’m just now at the beginning stages. However, I do get advanced copies for a semi small circle of other authors, bloggers, reviewers, and such. I’ll snag ya one.”

  “Ooooh, do I get to review it?”

  “Haha, well you can certainly tell me exactly how you feel about it. I however cannot guarantee your suggestions or critiques will make it into the story.” She pouts and it’s so damn cute.

  “You should take my critiques seriously, Jude!”

  “I would, of course I would. But there’s already so many people to tell me what I can improve upon. At some point you just gotta take some advice, leave some advice, do the final edit and get it done. There’s no one book that is going to make everyone happy. Some will love the shit out of the same book that someone else has picked apart until it’s just a dried-up nasty carcass. Yes, there are some books that are in fact, complete duds. However, I’ve published enough times by now to know what’s good, what sells, what reeks. I will of course, consider all of your feedback. Happily.”

  “Nice save. Okay fine, but we can still talk about it to death, right?”

  “Standard protocol, Presh.” She chuckles.

  “How did you get into this anyway? Writing romance that is.” I scratch my jaw and decide I’m gonna go for broke.

  “Well…I’m a bit of a sensitive sap. I know it’s hard to remember with all the foul language, but it’s true. When my mom left my dad, I think I started making up love stories for him. In my head I would create these scenarios where my dad would meet the perfect woman. And not for me, or Nina, I mean we had Aunt Lily. I just wanted my dad to feel that thing—whatever my ten, eleven, twelve-year-old self was identifying it as at the time, that put happiness back into his eyes. My dad only smiled with his eyes when he was looking at me or Nina, but when he’d look away—out a window, driving, sitting in his chair or on the porch, he was always half gone. Distant. Sad. So yeah, I’d start imagining what it would be like for him. I didn’t know I had an actual talent for writing though until high school. I had a creative writing class my senior year and realized I loved it. I did really well. Outside of school I started writing my own stories and finally just started putting some of those love stories down on paper. Nothing like what I write today of course, but I would say that’s how it bloomed.” I shrugged. Feeling a little vulnerable about sharing the roots of it all; a tiny bit embarrassed, but she just cocked her head to the side studying me.

  “How many people know the truth of it all?

  “Two.” Her eyes widen and she points to herself. I nod my head.

  “You and Nina. I’ve never told anyone but my sister, and now you, why and how I started writing rom-coms. Plus, I mean, come on. Even guys like when people get an HEA and have hot sex. Common. Fucking. Sense.”

  “It’s pretty amazing to me how you write such sexy scenes, but then you say things like that in person.”

  “It’s my specialty. Or maybe I’m just special. Let’s not overanalyze this too much.” I wink, and toss some bills on the table.

  “Wanna take the long way home?” She nods, almost shyly and then about kills me with her, “Yes, please.” I grab her hand and we head out in the opposite direction of our complex, just so we can enjoy the scenic route and each other’s company a little bit longer.

  “Thank you for breakfast. I would have gladly paid for my own meal.” I look at her and realize she’s being very serious.

  “BFF, hasn’t anyone just treated you before? Just to treat you? To anything?” She’s silent for a minute.

  “Not really. I mean I haven’t dated much, and my last relationship was not a healthy one. He wasn’t…nice.” I stop. Hold up.

  “Kara, did he lay his fucking hands on you? I realize my personality doesn’t exactly scream, “I’ll fuck you up”, but seriously, if he touched you, I will fuck him up. Point. The. Way. Does he live around here? Just say the word and I’ll—"

  “Jude, stop. Calm down. No, he didn’t physically hurt me, but he did mentally and verbally abuse me. He’s my baggage. All my baggage. Like I would have to pay an extra carry on fee there’s so much. His voice is still louder than my own sometimes. It gets in the way and I really try so hard not to let it, but you hear the same negative things so many times in a row and it’s just..it’s hard to hear or believe anything else.” I’m staring at this incredibly sweet girl, my Presh, and I cannot believe what I am hearing. First no prom, then no slow dancing, and then she’s with a guy that repeatedly tore her down? She’s had nothing but negative experiences thrown at her since an age where we are the most hopeful; the most vulnerable. No wonder she has self-esteem and trust issues.

  Men are assholes. I can’t help it; I pull her in for a hug. I hold onto her so tight her little body (which feels amazing against mine, by the way), is practically lifted off the ground. I don’t care. She’s not moving yet. Nope. I just want her to feel how much I care about her; how much I think of her—how perfect I think she truly is. I may not be at a place to verbally express that yet, because, you know, timing. But I am a world class hugger; I got this.

  I press a kiss to the top of her head and I feel her sigh into me as she clutches the back of my tee shirt. The fact that she’s holding onto me just as tightly, does not go unnoticed. Progress.

  “Listen, Kara. You’re not the reflection you see in the mirror fashioned by his ignorance and meanness. You’re more. So much more.” Her breath catches as she pulls back to look at me.

  “Jude Lawson…who the hell are you?” At that I toss her the smirk.

  “I know right?”

  “I hate you.”

  “You said like wrong.” She throws her head back in laughter, and all I can think about is running my tongue along the column of her slender neck. I want to smell her skin, taste it, savor it. This girl is going to be the absolute death of me. The need to remain patient and calm for a sign to move the fuck in is crushing my balls into a pile of blue mush. I want her. All of her. It’s thrilling and terrifying and I’ll be damned if I scare her away with my too soon readiness; my neediness for her.

  She glances back up at me shyly, “You ready to keep walking?” I nod slowly and let go of her to turn back and resume our walk. As I do, I feel the slide and brush of her soft fingertips as they make their way to my own hand. She threads her fingers through mine
, palms clasping, and I feel like a teenager who just made it to first base. I look down at her and grin, I can’t help it.

  “Is this okay?”

  “Anything you wanna do is okay with me, Boopsies.”

  “You are so ridiculous! Boopsies, oh my Lord.” We’re both laughing, and the moment is perfect, and I’m really not ready for it to end. However, despite the longer route, we arrive at the complex too soon.

  “Can I walk you to your door?”

  “Yes, of course.” We make our way up the curved pavement and she goes a little to the left, stops at her building which just happens to be right next to mine, unfuckingbelievable, and opens the main door. Down the hall, one, two, three doors on the right, and there she is. Where she’s been this entire time. She stops and turns to me, looking up at me with a look I never thought I would have the chance to see again. She likes me.

  “Jude, thank you for today. It was the best time I’ve had in a long time.”

  “You’re welcome. I had an amazing time. I hope you have a good night at work, I’ll miss texting with you.”

  “Well, you could come to the bar if you want.” My eyebrows lift to my hairline.

  “Woah, woah, woah…what’s this? Someone likes me.” I nudge her with my elbow, and she blushes, a bright and beautiful red.

  “Shut up, Jude.” But she’s looking at me with twisted lips, and her eyes are skimming my face, my chest, my lips.

  “You shut up. You like me. You might be scared, and that’s okay. I’ll be un-scared enough for the both of us right now. I like you too.” She flushes brighter and I notice her pulse pick up at the side of her neck. I lean forward to look more directly in her eyes. “I like you a lot, Kara.” Her tongue darts out to lick her lips, her breath catches, and oh holy shit. This is it.

  “Kara, I realize I still owe you something unexpected and amazing from our little text dare, but remember when I said if you lost I would describe to you exactly the way I want to kiss you?”