Page 22 of Something that Could Last

When the song is over, I lower the volume on the radio and turn in my seat to face him. “I can't believe you know that song!”

“I do,” he confirms with a wide grin. “It's one of my favorites. And you killed it, by the way,” he flatters me.

I'm surprised to be having this much fun with him. Everything feels so relaxed and natural. I've never been able to let loose so easily and be myself around a guy before. It's refreshing.

“How did you get into this kind of music, if you don't mind me asking?”

“It's what my parents used to listen to. It was popular when I was little, and they were very young. They let me listen to stuff they probably shouldn't have. I grew up with these guys. Warren G, Dre, Snoop, Biggie, Tupac. It just stuck with me,” I explain. “How doyouknow the song so well?”

His grin fades at my inquiry and I immediately regret asking the question. “Don't laugh,” he implores grimly, and I nod. Why would I laugh? “Promise?”

“Of course.”

“I had to take a music class my sophomore year of college,” he begins. “One of my assignments was to write a paper on a genre of music and how it has influenced American culture. Most people chose pop, jazz, or rock 'n roll. I chose hip hop with a concentration on gangster rap. Needless to say, my professor didn't like my choice, but my paper was well written and well researched. That’s how I discovered “Regulate,” through my research,” he explains.

“I presented a lot of ideas he obviously hadn't thought of before. Sometimes Ivy League professors can be such pretentious twats,” he adds with a sly smile. I want to laugh at his use of that word, but I balk at the mention of an Ivy League education. He just confirmed what I already suspected.

“Luckily, he gave me an ‘A.’” He shrugs, but I can tell he’s proud of that. “Before that, I hadn't listened to much rap from that era, or anything before then, really. My parents were really strict,” he explains. “My experience with hip hop began with Kanye and 'Lil Wayne when I was sneaking and listening to it with Luke after school.”

“Aw, that's so sad,” I tease, eliciting a laugh from him.

“Okay, smart-ass.” He reaches over and squeezes my thigh just above the knee. I jerk and try to fight the giggles bubbling up in my throat. I’m extremely ticklish and a little tipsy, and he just hit gold.

“Hey, no fair!” I protest between gasps of laughter. “You're driving so I can't fight back.”

“Exactly.” He grins mischievously before releasing my leg and grabbing my hand, interlacing our fingers. This simple act sends a jolt of electricity up my arm. He doesn’t release my hand until we arrive at his cabin.

Abby

“HOME SWEET HOME,”Luke announces and jumps out of the car. My eyes follow him, widening in surprise as he steps onto an expansive front porch, a tiny gasp parting my lips. I press my back deeper into the passenger seat, shrinking away from the sight in front of me. When Jacob and Luke mentioned they were staying in a cabin, this is not what I envisioned. This is more like a rustic mansion with its cedar columns and ornate trusses. Jacob opens my door and leads me onto the porch, my eyes taking in every detail of the luxury cabin’s exterior. I run my fingers over the back of an Adirondack chair as Jacob slides his key into the lock and opens the heavy, solid wood front door.

“Wow, this place is insane,” Tiff whispers in amazement. She's right. This placeisinsane, and I'm insane for agreeing to come here. That relaxed, easy feeling from earlier dissipates. I want to turn tail and run but Jacob grabs my hand and leads me into the foyer before I have the chance to bolt.

“Would you lovely ladies like to see the grand tour?” Luke asks in the most gentlemanly manner he can conjure. He bows and holds his hand out to Tiff.

“We’d love to,” she replies, slipping her hand into his.

Jacob and Luke show us the living room and kitchen first. I've never seen such a beautifully decorated cabin before. Granite counter tops sit atop dark wood cabinets. There's a double oven and a ceramic cooktop, and all the appliances are stainless steel. The entire kitchen is immaculate. I'd almost be afraid to cook in here. I'm quite surprised that these two guys have been able to keep the place so clean.

We move on to the living room, which is just as tidy as the kitchen. The hardwood floors are pristine and a fresh clean scent permeates the air. When you rent out a place like this, it must come with maid service.

The family room is our next stop. A large flat screen TV rests atop a stone fireplace with a leather sectional facing it. A pool table occupies the opposite side of the room with a set of double doors leading out to the balcony just beyond.

“That's where the hot tub is.”

I make the mistake of turning towards the sound of Luke’s voice, whirling around just as he grabs Tiff by the ass, grinding his groin into her and shoving his tongue down her throat. Eww.

Jacob mutters something under his breath and leads me down the hall. He must be just as repulsed by their PDA as I am. “This is the main bathroom,” he tells me, opening the door to yet another pristine room. “There are three bedrooms upstairs, plus another bathroom. Down the hall,” he asserts, pointing towards a closed door, “is the master bedroom. That's where I'm at.”

“Can I see it?” The question takes us both by surprise, but it's too late to take it back now. I hope Jacob doesn't get the wrong idea. I'm just curious to see the rest of the cabin. Yeah, we'll go with that.

He recovers his cool demeanor quickly. “Sure,” he replies, and I follow him down the hall. He opens the door and ushers me through it before hitting the light switch. If the exterior of the cabin made me gasp, then the master bedroom takes my breath away. The room looks utterly cozy and inviting with its rich hardwood floors and warm, neutral tones. A huge four poster bed rests beneath a vaulted ceiling, an ornately decorated rug protecting the hardwood from its heavy posts. There's a coffee table and set of chairs facing a wall mounted flat screen TV. Another set of double doors leads out to a private balcony.

Somehow, without even thinking about it, I've gravitated toward the bed. I run my hands over the soft material of the grey and cream comforter, noticing that the bed is neatly made and the entire room is spotless. Impressive.

I'm still admiring the bedroom and its stylish, modern décor when Jacob strides to the far side of the room and flips another switch.

“Check this out,” he directs, stepping through another door.

---