Page 9 of Jeremy
“No,it can’t be. Jeremy Martin cannot be the c word,” Justus says, shaking hishead.
“Areyou calling me a cunt?”
“Icould see how you’d make that mistake, but I was talking about the fact thatyou’re now celibate.”
Grabbingthe remote to the television, I shove Justus aside. “Fuck off, I passed on onewoman. That doesn’t make me celibate.”
“Plusyour neighbor,” Tucker adds. “You would have been all over that…before.”
Theword hangs in the air, supported by the weight of the awkward silence. Before.Before the shooting. Before Frannie died. Before I missed my chance.
“Shit’sdifferent,” I reply, shrugging.
Justusis usually good at knowing when to change the subject and he nails it thistime. “I brought the new Call of Duty. Ready to get your ass kicked?”
Thenext few hours are the best I’ve had since I moved here. The mood lightens,helped along by alcohol, good music, and great friends. We move out to the backdeck at one point and Tucker points down at the dock, where my neighbor sitswith a drink in her hand.
“Shespends a lot of time down there, doesn’t she? Does she live alone?”
“Noidea.”
Justusgets to his feet and bounds down the stairs toward the dock. “Five bucks saysshe pushes him into the water,” Tucker chuckles.
“Igot ten saying his drunk ass will fall in on his own.” It feels so good tolaugh again. To feel like a part of the world again.
Wewatch as they talk back and forth for a few minutes. When Justus turns to goback up the stairs, she follows him. Shit. Did he invite her over? Just becauseI wanted to hang out with them doesn’t mean I want a neighbor bothering me.
“Guys,this is Melissa. Melissa, this is Tucker and Jeremy.”
“Niceto meet you,” she says, directing her words and smile at Tucker.
“Melissaagreed to join us for a drink,” Justus says, leaning against the railing.
“CanI grab you a beer?” Tucker asks.
Sheholds up a glass and shakes it. “Already have a margarita, but thanks.”
“Herewe go,” Tucker murmurs, just before Justus speaks up.
“Youhave margaritas? And I’m drinking this fermented swill?”
Tuckerlaughs at the confusion on Melissa’s face. “Justus is fond of the girlydrinks.”
“Hey,not every man is secure enough in his masculinity to drink a pink squirrel.”
Melissa’slaughter fills the night with music. Okay, that may have sounded a little lame,but her laugh is beautiful. It reminds me of the wind chimes that hung outsidemy window when I was young.
“Well,I have plenty more at home. I’m happy to share. Do you have a blender?”
“Afraidnot,” I lie. This isn’t good. I don’t want to make friends with the neighbors.I want my privacy to…to what? Keep wallowing in self-pity and regret? Damn it,the alcohol is killing my ability to think straight.
Melissaconsiders it for a moment. “No problem. I can bring mine, and the drink mixes,if one of you wants to come and help.”
“Gograb the blender, Jer. We’ll move all our stuff inside,” Justus says.
Damnit. There’s no way I can say no without sounding like a total asshole andhaving both guys turn on me. “Let’s go,” I grumble.
Melissadoesn’t seem thrilled with the idea either, but she leads me to her back doorand flips on a light as we enter the kitchen. Holy hell. This is the first timeI’ve really seen her up close in the light, and she’s more beautiful than sheis from a distance. Those eyes. I only get a glance, but they remind me of the lakejust after sunset. Dark blue and mysterious.
