Page 191 of Rock Bottom Girl
I followed her downstairs and paused to give Homer a sloppy good morning kiss. “I’ll walk you tonight, buddy, and we’ll stop for ice cream,” I promised him.
He grumbled his excitement at me.
Libby grabbed her laptop that Jake had bought her for her birthday in the spring. “Now that one of you is vertical, I’m going to hang out on the porch for a bit.”
“Obsessing about colleges again?” I teased. One of the best things about becoming Libby’s legal guardians was telling her that college was on the table if she wanted it to be. Our normally cool and collected kid had squealed her girlish delight and hugged us off and on for three days straight. Since then, she’d researched every single college and university on the East Coast. Libby had narrowed her list down to twelve schools.
“Maybe,” she grinned.
“I’ll make you a sandwich.” I waved her off and rummaged through the fridge and crafted three delectable Lebanon bologna sandwiches. I delivered Libby’s sandwich to her and jogged upstairs with the other two.
Jake was snoring softly in our bed so I helpfully whipped open the curtains, flooding the room with light.
“Lunch delivery,” I said cheerfully, sliding his plate onto the nightstand. “If you don’t wake up and eat it in two minutes, Homer will take care of it for you.
“Mmmph,” Jake said. But his hand snaked out from the covers and grabbed my wrist. “Come back to bed.”
Was there anything sexier than bed-headed sex god Jake Weston beckoning me under the covers? No. Was I falling for it when I had an hour and a half to get myself ready for my first high school graduation ceremony as an adult? Apparently yes.
I let him tow me under the covers, let him wrap me in his inked arms. I relished the heat of his body against mine. The feel of his skin as it stroked over mine. The taste of his mouth. The rough of his jaw as it abraded my neck and shoulder.
He cupped my breasts as I straddled him. Together we were two lovers lost and found. His eyes, that bright, hard green, glinted as he drove into me. I was always ready for him, always wanting him. I marveled at the thought that I almost missed out on this. That I almost chose a sad apartment and a stressful job over Jake. Over this home. This family we cobbled together.
“I love you, Mars,” Jake said as he leisurely thrust into me. He savored me. Worshiped me. Loved me.
And I welcomed it. Welcomed him into me so we were as close as two people could be.
“Jake,” I breathed.
“Come, Marley,” he ordered. The cords in his neck stood out as he held on to control while I rocked against him.
We linked fingers on the mattress. We were in this together. Coming apart together.
* * *
We were late enoughthat we drove the five blocks to the high school. Jake and I were decked out in our college caps and gowns, and Libby was rocking a little black dress that she and my mom found on their monthly shopping spree to the outlets.
I’d rushed through the hair and makeup tutorial the girls had posted for me on the message board. Even in the off-season, they’d made a sport out of pushing me to make an effort. And I enjoyed it. Thanks to my team, I regularly turned up in public as a reasonably put-together woman.
Jake didn’t have a preference for Made-Up Me vs. Just-Rolled-Out-of-Bed Me. But I had fun making the effort on occasion.
We parked and funneled into the stadium with the better part of Culpepper. Good weather dictated an outdoor ceremony, and today was good. Balmy and sunny. Students were lining up in caps and gowns, sporting heels and sunglasses. It was a good day. I could almost smell the promise of the future on the late spring breeze.
Libby ducked off to sit with friends while Jake and I headed to the teachers’ section on the field next to the graduating class. We took our seats in the back row like the rebels we still aspired to be. Floyd grabbed the seat next to me. Amie Jo turned around from the front row and waved.
“Bet you never thought you two would be making nice on this field,” Jake teased.
I elbowed him. “We’ve all grown up a lot since high school.”
“Some of us more than others.”
“Hey, what are my parents and your uncles doing here?” I asked, spotting the foursome in the audience. They’d become fast friends since Thanksgiving. Mom joined Jake’s poker nights, and Dad had been a regular attendee of Lewis’s book club. They were planning a cruise with Jake’s mom and Walter in the new year.
“Are you kidding?” Floyd said. “This is the social event of the year.”
The first bars of “Pomp and Circumstance” crackled over the loudspeaker, and we all rose.
Culpepper liked to keep commencement short. No one in town had time to sit through three hours of speakers. I tuned out Principal Eccles’s remarks on past and future and relaxed against Jake’s arm on the back of my chair.
