Jennifer and Rocket (The Princesses of Silicon Valley Book 6) (14 page)

Meeting up with the Princesses for pizza on Tuesday night, Juliette tells us her sister got engaged on New Year’s Eve. “I told Nate he didn’t have to be involved in my sister’s engagement and he looked hurt. The next day, he told me he didn’t want to be the secret boyfriend.”

“Why don’t you want to invite him to meet your family? Your parents are cool,” Hita says.

Juliette looks pained as she answers. “I really like Nate. Introducing him to my family, that’s what people in a serious relationship do.”

“You’re not serious about Nate?” Meredith asks.

“I like him a lot. But having him meet my parents? We’ve only been going out a couple of months. I’m not sure if I’m ready for that.”

“Your parents met your old boyfriend Stephan,” Isabelle reminds her.

“Yeah, but we were going out longer than two months.”

“They won’t disapprove,” I tell her. “Nate’s every parents’ fantasy for their daughter. Can you imagine me bringing Rocket home? I can already hear my grandmother, auntie, and my mom. They’ll have a heart attack when they see his tats and piercings.”

“Yeah, and that’s his face and arms,” Meredith says. “You’re from Hawaii. Your family loves to have picnics on the beach. I can just see it…he takes off his shirt to go for a swim—”

“Oh my God, your grandmother will freak!” Juliette says.

“And they won’t even see that other piercing,” Isabelle adds in.

“What was he thinking?” Juliette says with a shudder.

Not wanting to go there, I shrug.
Kelly has a really big mouth
. Then I wonder how Kelly knows about that piercing. Yeesh, it’s probably from a firsthand encounter, something else I don’t want to think about.

What I really want to discuss with my friends is Tristan, but I don’t want them to think I’m the kind of girl who kisses another guy behind her boyfriend’s back. Then I wonder, when did Rocket turn from a casual fling into my boyfriend?

Is he my boyfriend?

***

On Friday, as I drive to dinner with Rocket, he tells me, “At the end of the month, my dad and Gary are heading up here. They can be a bit over the top, but they’re not scary.”

Fear flows through my body.

Or is it guilt?

How about uncertainty?

I spend the weekend spinning. What did Rocket tell his family about me? How do I meet a guy’s family when I’m still unclear about him? Baking up a storm doesn’t ease my nerves, it only gives me something to do. My mind shifts from wondering if his dad and Gary will like me, to feeling awkward about meeting them. This brings up all the uncertainty I feel about Rocket.

Rocket enters the Winnebago and starts munching on one of the cookies I baked, finally commenting, “Are you baking over your visit to your family? Did something happen at school, or is it Dad and Gary’s visit?”

“Not school, and I don’t think it’s about my family.” Then I shrug since my feelings are so conflicted.

“I like you, why do you care what they think?”

Feeling frustrated and overwhelmed, I blurt out. “Are you devoid of social norms?”

Rocket chuckles, smells his armpit, and says, “No one’s complained that I smell.”

Exasperated, I respond, “You have no issue wearing threadbare clothes, you live in a smashed up Winnebago, you pierced places that people should not pierce, and the last time you cut your hair was Halloween.”

He knits his eyebrows before responding. “I assure you, my family is aware how I live and what I look like. I think this has more to do with you than with me.”

My gut twists. I don’t like confrontation. I feel guilty for finally blurting out what bothers me about Rocket…and it doesn’t escape me that all my issues are superficial. Saying it out loud makes me feel even worse.

I don’t want to be a shallow person.

Rocket’s a good guy.

Our weekends are magical.

Why do I feel so conflicted about the two of us?

Rocket has none of these issues. He gets a naughty look on his face as he pulls me close, rubs me against his groin, and says, “You sure liked my piercing last night.”

***

On Wednesday, after locking up my classroom, I walk to my car and turn my phone back on. It shows someone’s contacted me using Facebook messenger.

Tristan Hall:
Are you free to get together?

My heart stops.

I gasp.

Tristan Hall’s contacted me. I sit in my car with my hand over my heart trying to breathe.

I stare at my phone.

I want to immediately respond YES.

But what about Rocket?

Tristan and I are friends from college. I meet with the princesses on Tuesday nights. I can meet with Tristan. Who am I kidding? I might have dinner with Tristan, but what I really want…is to marry him.

Rocket’s my fun fling…but Tristan…he’s the man of my dreams.

I stare at the phone feeling conflicted. I have no idea what to do. Or what I should say.

I know the right thing to do.

But that’s not what I want.

Instead, I text Olivia, my college roommate. As I drive home, I realize the only reason I contacted her is so she can help me thread the needle. Can I see what Tristan wants before breaking up with Rocket? Is that what I want, to break up with Rocket? The thought makes me feel sad…conflicted…uncertain.

I love our weekends together.

I’d miss not being with him, but he’s not my future.

That’s where Tristan fits in.

I feel on edge and nervous. My mind is spinning. Tristan is everything I’ve dreamed of. My family will love him. Rocket’s sexy, fun, and he totally gets me. Should I break up with Rocket and then get together with Tristan? Or should I get together with Tristan, see where that goes, then break up with Rocket? The uncertainty has me spinning. As I walk into my apartment, my phone dings from a new text.

Olivia:
What’s up?

Jennifer:
Can I meet up with you ASAP?

I stare at my phone, waiting for her next text. Instead, Olivia calls. “What’s so important you want to drive over here now?”

“Tristan Hall asked me out.”

She screams into the phone.

“Olivia, you think you could give me a warning on that?”

“Jennifer, your college crush asked you out. How did he find you?”

“Oh, Olivia,” I moan. “I ran into him when I was visiting my folks in Hawaii. He said he would call. I thought it was a line.”

“He called you?”

“He sent me a text.”

“When are you going? What are you wearing?”

“Olivia, I’m dating Rocket.”

“I thought that was a fling. No commitment.”

“Yeah, but it’s a four-month-long exclusive fling. Does it make me a bad person to go on a date with Tristan when I’ve been exclusively with Rocket?”

“Have you promised Rocket anything?”

“No.”

“Then tell Rocket you’re moving on.”

My heart drops into my stomach.

Shit.

I don’t want to lose Rocket.

My phone buzzes. It’s Rocket. How could I forget that today is Wednesday? Rocket’s here to pick me up. I let him up as I tell Olivia, “I’ve got to go, Rocket’s here.”

My mind is in confusion. Finally, I close down my phone. I wouldn’t want Rocket knowing about Tristan. Is this how people end up in a mess?

There’s a knock on the door. I answer it. Rocket’s dressed in a new, nice quality shirt. He’s shaved, and his hair has been cut.

He looks good—really, really good.

“Nice haircut,” I say.

He picks me up, spins me around, and gives me a kiss. That man knows how to kiss.

“Yeah, I’m not building a house until I’ve saved up more money, and the piercings, that’s me. But the hair and the shirt? I really don’t care. If cleaning up a little makes you happy.” He shrugs again and gives me a sweet smile.

Damn, why is he so…accommodating? Now I feel like a complete heel.

“Let’s go out to eat, something other than burgers. Tonight you choose,” he casually says.

“How about Chinese?” I respond.

“We can go to the place you like in Palo Alto, Mandarin Roots.”

“Yeah, that place is good.”

“Are you ready?” he asks.

“I still need to wash up.”

Heading into the bathroom, I look at my face, take a deep breath, and pull myself together. Why does Rocket have to be so nice? Why can’t he be condescending and dismissive like my former boyfriend, Carter? Or financially irresponsible, like my former boyfriend, Bishop? Or not be able to keep his thing in his pants like…all the guys I dated in college?

Rocket makes it too hard to break up with him.

As Jennifer and I eat Chinese food at the trendy restaurant she likes, I try to find out what’s been bugging her.

“You’ve been running hot and cold since you got back from Hawaii. Did something happen there?”

She looks at me shocked. “What would have happened?”

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking. But…did something happen?”

“No, it was the typical…hang out with the family, hang out at the beach, go to some bars with my brothers.”

I can tell she’s grinding on something. I felt it when she returned. Something went wrong when we were away from each other. “Is it school?” I ask.

“What?”

“This thing that makes you irritable, distant, and jumpy.”

She shakes her head. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, I know you’re fine.” Which gets her to smile and shake her head. “Anyway, Sophia and a few of her friends have an art exhibition this weekend down in Carmel. We can head down, check out the galleries. A few other artist friends will be there.”

“Yeah, that would be cool,” she responds.

“Jennifer?” A voice interrupts. It’s some dick-head looking prep. He reeks of entitlement and arrogance.

Jennifer looks up and pales. “Carter?”

“I thought that was you,” he says as he looks me over with obvious disdain. His eyes stop on my hardware and tats. He’s the type of prick that has one tat and thinks it makes him look urban.

I nod and try to stay cool.

His eyes turn back to Jennifer, “It’s been a while. I take it you’re busy.”

She nods.

“I’ll see you around,” he says with an attitude that means the opposite.

“Who was that?” I ask.

She hesitates before saying with a flat voice, “An old boyfriend.”

I look back at the guy and take him in again. “Really, you dated that guy? What did you see in him?”

She looks at me all annoyed. “He doesn’t live in an old Winnebago and drive some monster truck.”

“Is this what this is about?”

“What?”

“You, the mood you’ve been in. Are you having problems with me? My…lifestyle?”

She shrugs, but doesn’t tell me different. I thought we were cool. I’m wondering what brought this on. Did her family give her grief about me when she was home? We finish eating in silence. She looks over at the dick she used to date. He’s sitting with some other suits. Is that what she wants?

My mind is spinning—first Tristan, now Carter. Not that I would ever want to sleep with Carter again. I saw the way he checked out Rocket and smirked, then gave me that look, like I’ve gone downhill since I was with him, like I’m slumming. Who does Carter think he is, looking down at Rocket? His attitude pisses me off, but also makes me self-conscious. I’m caught between being proud of my relationship with Rocket and wanting to hide it.

When Rocket drives me home, he doesn’t park but idles by the front door.

“Are you going to come in?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “I’m going back to the office. We have a release going out. Hopefully, if I get my build to compile, I’ll be free this weekend.”

I stare at him in shock, as I remain unable to move in the cab. “Are you breaking up with me?”

He looks shocked as he answers, “What, one uncomfortable conversation and you think it’s over?” He looks at me as if he’s trying to read me. My mind is too twisted to say anything. He finally continues, “No, I’m not breaking up with you. I have a lot going on at work. I’m not in the mood to do this tonight.”

I nod, get out of the cab, and walk into the building. I hear his truck rumble out of the parking lot. One side of me wants to run after him and say, “No, don’t go…. Spend the night.” The other side wants to pull out my phone and text Tristan back. Is that what he sensed? Is he giving me a chance to make my decision?

As I head up the stairs, I pull out my phone. Re-reading Tristan’s message, I respond:
Yes, getting together sounds like fun.

Then I stare at the phone, wondering when he’s going to respond back. As I enter our apartment, Kara looks up from her computer.

“Where’s Rocket?” she says.

I shrug, feeling too weary from all of my confusion to talk.

“What’s going on with you two?” she asks. “I like him,” she tells me in her practical, schoolmarm tone of voice. Then she elaborates, “He’s more down to earth and treats you better than Carter or Bishop. What did you see in those guys?”

I shrug again, since the comment cuts too close to the bone.

I only manage to say, “I’m heading to bed.”

I’m drifting off when my phone dings. Picking it up, it’s a message from Tristan
.

Drinks?

I quickly respond:
Yes.
I don’t need to deal with my confusion over Rocket. If Tristan wants me, then I can be happy with the man of my dreams.

***

In the morning, the first thing I do is check my phone. Tristan hasn’t gotten back to me. Rocket texted me late last night:
Goodnight, sleep well
.

I break my rule about checking messages during the day. Nothing from Tristan. Rocket sent a sweet text. After school, when I check my phone, still no Tristan. But Rocket texts me:
Another late night, I’ll keep you posted about getting together for dinner tomorrow
.

I get home and wonder when Tristan and I are going out. While I text back and forth with Rocket, every text makes me feel worse. Is Olivia right? Since Rocket and I never had the monogamous talk, are we still casual?

I sit and watch TV in a funk as too many uncomfortable thoughts swirl in my mind. My phone buzzes.

Tristan:
RU free for drinks in an hour?

Jennifer:
Yes

I race into my room, take a quick shower, pull on tight jeans and a cute little top. Then I look at my phone, he never said where we’re going. As I choose my favorite high heeled boots, I get another text.

Tristan:
Meet you at
Mixx, 30 minutes
.

Jennifer:
See you.

As I leave my room, I pass Kara. “Where are you going all dolled up?” she asks.

“A friend from college asked me to meet him for drinks.”

She raises her eyebrows but doesn’t say anything.

***

I drive to Mixx and park. My stomach twists, Rocket and I never said we were exclusive, but, in my heart I know this isn’t right. I keep driving; all my will power is gone. I’ve always dreamed of Tristan. This might be my only chance to get him.

With determination, I get out of my car and walk to the restaurant. I immediately spot Tristan. He looks beautiful; he’s wearing a high quality pressed blue shirt that matches his eyes, and he’s perfectly groomed with his hair gelled back.

I walk over to him and say, “Hey, stranger, I’m glad you gave me a call.”

He looks me up and down. “You look fine,” he says with a smoldering smile. Then he drapes his arm around me and says into my ear, “Do you want a drink, or better yet, we can head back to your place.”

I’m taken aback; I know I came here because I want him. But I thought…what did I think? I thought he would at least wine and dine me? He remembered me from college. He looked me up and sent me a text. He’s beautiful, an attorney, my family would love him; he’s my perfect man.

I maintain my smile and nod. “A drink sounds perfect.”

He nods and calls over the bartender.

“Anchor Steam on tap,” I say as the bartender nods.

Turning back to Tristan, I look up into his beautiful chiseled face. “I thought you’d be on the Google bus by now.”

“I had to attend a town meeting, which, of course, went long. We’re trying to get some concessions. Anyway, it’s not a total loss, I get to see you,” he says with a steamy look in his eyes as he moves closer.

I smile and rub against him. “Flattery will get you everywhere,” I say in my most flirty voice.

The bartender hands me my drink. I take a sip and give Tristan a flirty look over the top of my mug.

He runs his finger down my cheek. “You are a pretty one.”

I look up into those beautiful crystal blue eyes. “I can say the same about you.” My voice comes out in a purr.

“Pretty? My macho image of myself has now been blown away,” he flirts back.

We chat about nothing while everything is about flirting. When I finish my beer, he throws some bills on the bar and says, “Where are you parked?”

“Just around the block,” I tell him as I point in the general direction.

He picks up his satchel, places it over his shoulder, puts his arm around me, and gives a kiss to my temple murmuring, “You smell great.” Then he says, “Let’s walk to your car.”

As we walk close to each other, he says while simultaneously squeezing my waist, “Your brother’s not going to interrupt us again, is he?”

“Thankfully, he’s up in Seattle.”

He then runs his hand from my waist over my butt. I look up as he looks down. We both smile.

As we reach my car, I pull out my keys and beep the car open.

“Where are you parked?” I say. “I can drive you over to your car and you can follow me back to my place.”

His smile is filled with lust as he blocks me against the door, takes my head in his hands, and leans down and lightly kisses me. He moves his head away. I open my eyes in time to see his smoldering look, as he leans in and lightly kisses me again. This is about as far as we got in Hawaii.

This time my brother’s not here to stop us.

I silently cheer.

Tristan moves closer and rubs his groin against me. My lips part, ready for the next kiss. He then sticks his tongue in my mouth. He tastes like cigarettes. Yuck, I didn’t know he smoked. I try to get into it but…he rolls his tongue around and he’s way too goopy. It feels like he’s spitting in my mouth. His hand moves down and he honks my boob as he uncomfortably grabs my ass.

Yuk, is this a joke?

I move my head away.

He says, “Stephanie, don’t act like that.”

What!

I push him away.

“My name’s Jennifer,” I spit out.

“Yeah, what did I say?”

“You called me Stephanie.”

“Oh, hey, I was close.”

“Where are you parked?” I ask, my voice sounds harsher than I intended.

“Oh, don’t be like that. Come on, it’s too late to play hard to get.”

“Tristan, where’s your car?” I ask with a firmer voice.

“My car’s in the city.”

“Do you need me to drive you over to Google to catch the bus?”

“Baby,” he says as he pulls me tight and rubs his now bulging pants against me. “The bus stops running at 8:30. You’re hot, and lately I’ve had a thing for Asian chicks. Let’s go back to your place.”

“What!” I push him away. “You thought you’d text me, I’d show up, and you get yourself an Asian fuck buddy for the night?”

He stumbles back and says, “Hey, what did you think? You were into it a few minutes ago.”

“Yeah, until I realized you’re a complete ass.”

I get in my car, slam the door, and drive off. Or maybe I’m the ass. Really? Beautiful Tristan Hall kisses that bad! As I drive it hits me, he only called me so he didn’t have to take the train home.

Shit.

Rocket’s spoiled me.

I’m used to a guy who kisses me like he means it, and treats me like I’m special…cares about me, really gets me.

What the hell am I doing?

I almost blew the best relationship of my life by having a fling with a mirage.

***

When Rocket texts me that he has to cancel our Friday night dinner due to work, I freak. Does he know I met Tristan last night? Does he know we kissed? Will I lose my man because of the worst kiss ever?

No: because of my duplicitous behavior. Needing to talk to someone about all my guilt, I arrange to have dinner with Olivia.

At dinner, I tell her about Tristan and my rendezvous last night. Olivia thinks Tristan’s bad kissing is hysterical. She says, “I have a theory about beautiful men. They are either fantastic lovers since they’ve had so much practice or they’re terrible lovers, since they don’t have to try very hard.”

“I can only compare kissing. But Rocket’s a wonderful kisser, and Tristan is terrible. I think they both proved your point.”

Then she warns me, “Don’t ever tell Rocket about Tristan. You didn’t do anything wrong. You met up with a guy you went to school with, that’s all.”

“Yeah, but that wasn’t my intent. Until he repulsed me I was hell bent on—”

“But that never happened. It was leftover lust from college, misguided lust that never went anywhere.”

“A kiss,” I say.

“A kiss that repulsed you. Hell, if anything the reality of Tristan made you appreciate Rocket more.”

“True, I’ve spent the last four months dating Rocket thinking it was a casual fling. My bad boy before I met the man of my dreams.”

“And now?” she asks looking at me perplexed.

“And now…. I thought Tristan was the man of my dreams. But he’s a jerk. I was taken in by his looks. What is it with me? Tristan, Carter, Bishop…I dated them because I thought that’s what I wanted.”
What my grandma, auntie, and mother would want,
I silently add. “I had this vision of who I would be with, who I would marry. But now….”

“Yeah, reality doesn’t always match our fantasies.”

“The thing is, my reality is fantastic, even better than my fantasy. It just looks different. How could I be so dense?”