Blindsided (16 page)

Tony picked up the phone to call Jen before he even thought about it or remembered that he was angry with her. It was his first instinct and probably always would be. Maybe that was something he would have to take into consideration when he finally decided what to do about this whole ultimatum business of hers.

“You’re not going to believe what just happened,” he said when she answered. They had long since grown out of identifying themselves.

“It’s about time. How is Annabelle taking it?” Jen asked. In her own family, such a brief, simple sentence would have had no consequences, but she’d been around long enough to know that the same was not true in Tony’s.

“Oh, come on. She hasn’t changed that much. She asked and answered the question herself. Came to the conclusion that it had to do with Chelsea’s new boyfriend.”

“Nate Stone,” Tony said, still unable to believe it himself. He’d been able to keep it to himself two days ago, but now he was nearly bursting with the idea. “She’s dating Nate Stone.”

After their laughter had died down, Jen asked, “What’s he like? Will he break her heart like the other leather jacket wearing freaks?”

“I don’t think so,” Tony said immediately, as surprised with his answer as Jen was. “He’s a decent guy. He stood up to Mom too.”

“It’s easier if you’re not related,” Jen said.

“True,” Tony said with a sigh.

The truth was, it was easier if you weren’t Chelsea. Every year, it seemed like it got harder for Chelsea to do anything but bend to Annabelle whenever they were in the same room, which wasn’t very often. Maybe not anymore, though.

“Speaking of which, are you going to damn me to a lifetime of being related to Annabelle, or not? I need to know, Tony,” she said, her voice losing its humor.

And just like that, they were back to being at odds.

Fuck it, Tony thought, I can’t live like this.

He took a deep breath and jumped in.

###

“A drive-in?” Chelsea said. “I didn’t know they still had these.”

Three days into Nate’s grand experiment and he was taking her to a drive in. Where countless virgins had given it up. What was he thinking? Their lust was barely restrained as it was. The cultural implications of a drive in movie would damn them, but it was perfect all the same. Everything they’d done together so far had been perfect, smacking of old fashioned courting.

When she’d been unable to stop giggling in the car after leaving Tony’s the day before, Nate had responded by bringing her to a carnival. She’d felt so free, so unburdened and more childlike than she had in years and the carnival had the perfect vibe. They’d indulged all her giddy whims, riding rides until they were near puking and eating a horrible amount of fried and sugary foods. Nate had even won her a large stuffed giraffe by throwing balls at bottles. If Nate was indulgent as a lover, he was even more so as a boyfriend.

Boyfriend. The word still had the power to thrill her, to zing straight through her in a combination of terror and delight. Looking at him aroused all her deepest, darkest bad boy fantasies, but underneath, she was convinced there was more. She hoped she was right, hoped she wouldn’t be proved wrong.

Despite the comfort and safety, she still awoke in the night in the grip of a panic. The first time, Nate had slept on, but the second, he had woken up and simply held her until she had fallen back asleep. For not traveling, her feelings of helplessness were remarkably few and far between. Was that because of her, or because of Nate? She would find out soon enough, and she wasn’t looking forward to it.

“The Rodeo’s one of the last drive ins in the area,” Nate said, “Nothing says courtship like making out in the back of a muscle car.”

“Dinner. Do you want to wait until the show’s over and go to a restaurant, or do you want to get a hot dog or something from the snack bar?”

“Is it really a drive-in experience if we don’t get something artery clogging, like a chili cheese dog?”

“Nope. I’ll go get some,” Nate said.

He slid out of the car with the easy grace that Chelsea was beginning to love watching and walked towards the concession stand. His long legs covered the distance quickly. When they had been walking together earlier, she’d had to almost jog to keep up with him. He had noticed and slowed his gait for her and let her dictate the pace from then on. Everything he did was like that, she realized. Sweet, considerate, thoughtful. Not only did he actually notice things like that, but he did something about them without being asked. It was nice to be considered.

Nate returned with their chili dogs, plus French fries and nacho chips covered in some sort of yellow sludge that Chelsea assumed was cheese, or at least cheese product.

“Only the finest for you,” he said as he eased into the car after passing their food to her through the window.

Nate downed his food in about two minutes, while Chelsea picked at hers. The chili dog had sounded good in theory, but in reality, the big, greasy hunk of meat was far from appetizing.

“So, do you have any interest in seeing me play on Thursday?” Nate asked when he had finished demolishing his junk food. He looked studiously casual, as if trying to hide the importance of this.

Inside, she nearly leapt with joy. Traveling again, moving, freedom. Sure, it was only Los Angeles, not some far flung place, but at least she’d be on the road.

As she spoke, the sounds from the radio changed from nostalgic ads to the dramatic swelling that indicated the previews were beginning.

“Come on, the best place in a drive-in is the backseat,” Nate said.

He threw his arm over Chelsea’s seat and leaned in closer, stroking her chin with his finger. The whole thing was so retro. It fit perfectly with the drive in. In the dim light coming from the big screen, Nate looked like he belonged in a fifties movie as the biker who steals the prom queen’s heart, or some such nonsense. At the very least, Chelsea felt like she should be wearing a ribbon in her hair and one of her mother’s beloved twin sets. She was also fairly certain that her virtue should be compromised. If they did some role playing and ended up making love in the back seat, would it count as them having sex?

“I can’t go in the backseat with you,” Chelsea said with a little giggle, “What would people think?”

“Oh, come on, baby. You’re only young once,” Nate said, raising his eyebrow.

He turned his street hood charm on her and she felt his grin zing energy to all her interesting bits. She’d never been with a man for whom a smile counted as foreplay.

“But I’m not that kind of girl,” Chelsea said chastely. If she didn’t stop batting her eyelashes, she was going to get a headache.

“Sure you are. You just don’t know it yet,” Nate said, easing himself closer, the heat in his eyes nearly frying her insides.

His lips were only an inch or so from hers, and the scent of him was overwhelming. She wasn’t even really trying to protect her virtue, but it all seemed so taboo, forbidden, tantalizing. He must have been a heartbreaker. Maybe he still was.

“You say that to all the girls,” she whispered, her eyes straying down to his lips. Oh god, why wouldn’t he kiss her?

“Not anymore,” he said, and then he did kiss her, gently, as if she really the innocent teenage girl she was playing at being.

He was skillful as ever, his lips teasing hers, tender and unrelenting at the same time, his tongue pressing her lips apart to find the inner warmness of her mouth. She moaned as she surrendered to him, pressed her chest forward, towards him. Her hands curled around his shirt reflexively as she tried to get closer to him. He pulled her closer, deepening their kiss, plundering her. If she had been a poodle skirted virgin, she wouldn’t have stood a chance. As it was, she didn’t want to fight him.

“Ok, backseat,” she said, voice shaking.

“You’re dangerous,” Chelsea whispered once they were wrapped around each other in the backseat, Nate’s hand wandering freely over her whole body, drawing fire under his hand.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“You must have been a heartbreaker,” she said, “There’s no resisting you. How many girls did you deflower in the backseat when you were a kid with that street charm?”

“Do you really want to know the answer to that?” Nate asked.

He was looking into her eyes, the intensity of his stare deepened by the eerie flickering light coming from the far away screen. On the screen, a preview for a new movie was rolling, but Chelsea only noticed it in the periphery of both her vision and her mind.

“Probably not,” Chelsea answered honestly.

“If it makes you feel better, I’m tested and clean,” Nate said.

He was still stroking her back in long strokes from her shoulders to her bottom that made her feel deliciously warm and melting, caramel and chocolate blending together into something sticky sweet.

“Oh, um, me too,” Chelsea said, a little taken aback.

She supposed it was a good thing to get said and out of the way, but it hardly seemed like the time. They’d already had sex, albeit with a condom. Maybe he was thinking about doing it without the latex. The thought of nothing between her intimate folds and Nate’s penis made her breath catch in her throat.

“Can we get back to me seducing the virgin in the backseat?” Nate asked.

His voice was husky and his eyes intense on her, his hands growing rougher, more insistent.

“Oh, no, I’ve told you, I’m not that kind of girl. There’s no way to get me out of my prim and proper ways,” Chelsea said in a breathy voice, all while raunchy fantasies played in her mind.

“Alright, we’ll just watch the movie then,” Nate said, calling her bluff. There was no way he couldn’t tell she was ready to explode.

He kept his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close so her head was resting in the crook of his arm and his chest. He was so warm and solid. Chelsea snuggled to him and wrapped her arm around him, her heart thumping wildly in her chest. He was facing forward, one foot propped up on the front seat arm rest that was molded out of the door and lit a cigarette with his free hand. He was the image of street cool, and Chelsea had to stop herself from throwing herself at him. No wonder the greasers got all the girls.

The movie started. To Chelsea’s dismay, it was a slasher. Chelsea had always hated horror movies, terrified by all but the silliest. In high school, her friends had loved to scream their way through slashers, but she was unable to let the images and story lines go when the credits rolled. She snuggled deeper into Nate’s chest and he tightened his arm around her.

She turned in her seat to look at Nate. Screams and gasps had started to come from other cars, but she ignored them and the soundtrack playing through the speakers. She leaned forward and changed the station until she found something playing a rock song with a driving beat she felt instantly drawn to. She left it there and leaned back into the seat.