“Of course. Now go get that cowboy di–”
I end the call before our class lapses… a little more.
“Hey,” I answer, a warm ember of eagerness catching, spreading through my jaw and cheeks. I can’t stop my grin. I love Jake’s voice.
“Hey there,” he greets, heat flaring in my core at the roughness of his timbre. I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that this man, according to Jo Jo, doesn’t date. How? “What are you doing?”
Veering around an end cap featuring Otter Pops and fruit juice, I steer myself toward the booze aisle. “At the EAT O RAMA, grocery shopping. What are you doing?”
He doesn’t bother answering the question. “Jo Jo is at a sleepover tonight.”
“Home alone, huh?” I tease, snatching a bottle of Merlot from the wine shelf.
“No,” he says, “because you’re coming over.”
I stop with thirteen dollars of wine in my hand. “You’re inviting me over?” I don’t know why, but I thought he would slowly start calling more and then invite me over. I hadn’t expected it to happen so soon, then again, he did titty fuck me on the side of the road like an animal last week.
His rough laughter fills the line, and the need between my thighs flares. “Miss Rivers, I have a fourteen year old daughter that does not drive, and she’s gone for the night. I’d love to pretend I don’t have to leap to take advantage of tonight, but I do.” He lowers his voice. “I also smoked a brisket all day, and just took roasted red potatoes from the oven, and home grown green beans are on the stove, sauteing in butter.”
My stomach rumbles, and I don’t know if it’s for the food or the man that cooked it. “When were you thinking?”
“Let’s see,” he says. “The sooner you get here, the moretime we have,” he says, quietly and almost insecurely adding, “together.”
I steer toward check out, forgoing the last five items on the list. Who needs tampons and deodorant anyway?
“Let me just drop off my groceries and I’ll head over,” I reply, really tempering my tone so as to not sound like being invited over to his house is the best thing that has happened to me in my entire life. That would be desperate. And yet, I become a trail of smoke getting out of the EAT O RAMA.
We end the call and I bag my own groceries, realizing that I am—all internal joking aside—desperate to see Jake. Not just see him but be around him again. My soul comes alive around Jake in ways it never has before and sure, I want to fuck him in all positions and forms possible for a woman to have a man, but its not just sex. There’s a pull between us, a chemistry, an attraction, something. I know it.
At home, I chuck all the bags straight into the fridge, not bothering to unpack the items that are perfectly fine sitting on cupboard shelves. Thank goodness I showered after work, shaving my legs and washing my hair. I was going to make s’mores tonight and binge watch 80s movies, starting withSteel Magnolias—my absolute favorite. I’m even in my most comfy albeit scrubby outfit already, in preparation for all the vegging and comfort tonight was supposed to hold. But now I’m going to Jake’s, so my absolute favorite pair of leggings with a hole in the inner thigh and my old Willowdale High School hoodie will absolutely not cut it.
I consider showing up in my winter coat with nothing underneath, or goFatal Attractionand wear a dress and nothing else. But I can’t shake the look in Jake’s eyes when he saw my panties in the truck that day, and robbing us both of that moment feels unfair. Panties are a must. More for those strong hands to tear off me.
Ultimately, I decide on a pair of jeans and an off the shoulder blouse. Yes, off the shoulder means I have to wear my dreaded strapless bra which I am totally convinced was designed by a man or the devil, but it’s definitely worth it to complete the casualI definitely didn’t think about what I was going to wear too hardvibe. Wearing my hair down, freshly washed and straightened, I slip into my boots, spritz on some perfume and eagerly head toward the Turner house.
Excitement has me sinking my boot against the gas pedal, thinking of all the things that are going to happen tonight. I get to see more of that gorgeous home, a home that, by the way, looks like it would be owned by a TV producer, being shown off on an episode ofArchitectural Digest. Not to mention, I get to see more of the home he shares with Jo Jo.
Jo Jo.
Fuck.
It wasn’t easy looking her in the eyes and giving her advice about her crush last week after I’d been on my knees on the side of the road, begging for her dad to use my face like a pussy. I was and still am ashamed of keeping Jake and I private when our dynamic so far has been pure and honest. She’s trusted me, opened up to me about her mom, the reasons the other girls have teased her, and how she feels about all the changes in her life right now. In every conversation, her expression read that what she was sharing was important, and the way she held her gaze said that I was the only one fortunate enough to hear it. That was pretty much confirmed with Jake on the drive home that late afternoon.
I don’t want to hurt her by seeing Jake behind her back.
This really came out of nowhere, I mean, it’s not like she knew that I’d met him and didn’t know it was him and had been pining over him as a fantasy for months. There’s so much that Jo Jo, at her age, just can’t understand about whatJake and I are doing… or, about what’s happening between us.
Still, I don’t like keeping it from her and I don’t want to hurt her. Those two things remain as true and as potent as ever.
But I can’t say no to or deny Jake and what I feel for him.
I choose not to think about Jo Jo anymore about halfway through the drive, because as much as I adore her and really care about her, I like myself, too. And after all the heartache with my parents and Michael, I deserve happiness. You know what else I deserve?
The good dick.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO