One Last Night (6 page)

“
Okay, okay.” I’m trying
not to smile at how annoyed Jenna is. “I said I was
sorry.”

“
Fine,” she says. “Apology
accepted.”

“
By the way,” I say,
knowing I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. “Don’t call it
Frisco.”

Jenna takes a swig of beer. “Why not?
I hear people on TV calling it Frisco all the time.”

“
Only people who’ve never
been there.” I shrug. “I’m just trying to help. Someday, you might
get out of a cab in Union Square on your way to a day of shopping
at Macy’s and the minute you slip and call it Frisco the street
gangs will be all over you. I’m only doing it as a public
service.”

“
Well, thanks,” she says.
I can tell that she’s not sure if I’m kidding.

“
So what are you going to
go off and do once you leave Garvin State? What’s your major?” I
ask, like I don’t already know.

“
Dance.” She glances down
and runs her finger through a drop of water on the table. “I know,
I know. It’s ridiculous to come to the middle of Texas for a career
in dance.”

“
It’s not exactly the
Bolshoi,” I say.

Jenna looks a little surprised. Dance
isn’t my favorite thing, but Mom used to drag me to the ballet
every couple of years. “I can’t argue with that,” she
says.

“
So why here?”

“
Madame Azarov. She runs
the studio here and she’s amazing.” Jenna gets a look in her eye
that I recognize. It’s passion and desire. The same look
ballplayers get when they talk about the majors. “I’d go anywhere
to study with her.”

“
So what do you want to do
after you graduate?”

“
Dance. And choreograph if
I can. New York, Paris, London—anywhere.” She looks at me as if
she’s deciding something. “You have to promise me you won’t
laugh.”

I like that she’s confiding in me. It
makes me want to keep her secrets. “I won’t laugh.”

“
Hand up and swear,” she
says.

I hold one hand up. “I swear I won’t
laugh.”

“
I’m going to audition for
American Dance later this year.”

“
The TV show?” I’ve seen a
little of it when I was passing through the living room at home.
Olivia’s addicted and sits in front of the TV with her phone to
vote for her favorites every season.

She nods a little sheepishly. “I know,
it sounds stupid…”

“
No, it doesn’t,” I say
quickly. “Those people are amazing.”

“
I don’t even care about
winning, I’ve just wanted to be on it from the first time I saw the
show. The exposure, the choreography…it’s a great opportunity.” She
takes another sip of beer. “Provided I make it past the first
auditions.”

“
I’m sure you will,” I say
and I hope she knows that I’m not being a dick. I really mean it.
Jenna’s got confidence and grace that makes me believe that she
really will do it. She’ll do whatever it is she wants.

“
I’m only a sophomore,”
she says. “So if it doesn’t work out, I’ll just come back
here.”

A sophomore? I lean forward. “How old
are you?”

Jenna glances around conspiratorially.
“Nineteen.” She grins. “Fake ID.”

“
Nice,” I say approvingly.
She looks so straight-laced that I love the tiny bit of a naughty
edge. My mind wanders to what else might be naughty about her and I
have to drag it back. “I had one too—mostly to get into clubs and
things.”

“
Are you a senior?” she
asks.

“
No. A junior,” I say. “I
did a couple of years in a local college before coming
here.”

She glances up at me. “So, do you like
San Francisco?”

“
I do.” I know there’s a
little too much pride in my voice when I say that, but I love my
hometown, especially the parts you don’t see on a travel show—the
seedier parts of Market Street, a club in the Mission, playing ball
in Golden Gate Park. When I walk through the city, it feels like I
own it, not like I do here where I feel like an alien most of the
time, like I’m playing a game but nobody ever told me the
rules.

“
Why are you all the way
out here if small town life is so crappy?” There’s the challenge
back in her voice again. I don’t mind it at all.

“
Baseball,” I say. “I got
recruited to come out this year.”

“
And he’s on his way to
the majors,” Mitch says, leaning over the table.

“
God, would you shut up
about that,” I say, tossing a balled up napkin at him.

“
Well, it’s true.” He
turns to Jenna. “If Ty can keep up the great year he’s having,
he’ll be the one on SportsCenter this time next year.”

I shake my head. “Don’t listen to him.
I’m doing okay.”

“
We should come to a game
sometime,” Nina says.

“
You should,” I say to
Jenna.

“
Maybe I will.” She smiles
at me, her eyes turning up at the edges, and I feel an undercurrent
running through our conversation. An undercurrent that I’m not in
too big of a hurry to kill, despite all of the warning
signs.

Two hours later there are several
plates of chicken bones and a bunch of empty glasses in front of
the four of us. Nina and Mitch are huddled in a corner talking to
each other and honestly, I’d almost forgotten they were there. At
some point, Jenna pushed her chair closer to mine so that our knees
are almost touching, her hand brushing my leg as she gestures to
try to make a point.

The sound of a glass shattering on the
floor makes us all look up as boos and catcalls fill the air. The
guy who dropped it bends to pick it up as his friends point and
laugh.

For the first time all night, there’s
a long silence between us, but it’s not because we’ve run out of
things to say. It feels as though the conversation has barely
started.

“
I should probably go,”
Jenna says, looking around the bar. It’s gotten even more crowded
while we’ve been sitting here.

I don’t want her to leave, but I know
it’s not right to ask her to stay. Not when I shouldn’t take things
any further than this table.

“
Aw, come on, it’s
Saturday night,” Nina says, looking over at us with raised
eyebrows.

“
I have a class in the
morning,” Jenna says.

“
You have ballet on a
Sunday?”

“
African dance,” she says.
She looks at us and shrugs. “I like to branch out.”

Nina sits up and reaches for her bag.
“I’ll run you home.”

It feels like Jenna is going to walk
out of here and things are going to be like they’ve always been
between us—a brief nod in the hallway, or a ‘thank you’ when I hold
a door open. I know I shouldn’t encourage her, but I don’t want
that back. “You guys should stay,” I say quickly. “I can take
Jenna. I’ve only had one beer the whole time we’ve been sitting
here.”

Jenna hesitates. “Are you
sure?”

No. I’m not sure at all. “It makes
sense, we live in the same place. As long as you don’t mind riding
on the back of my bike.”

“
No,” she says with a
small smile. “I don’t.”

“
Great!” Mitch says,
leaning back into Nina. “You two kids run along.”

We grab our stuff and wave goodbye.
The air outside is still warm as bathwater as the bugs hurl
themselves at the lights over the doorway. One thing I could get
used to, is a warm Texas night. It’s never warm at night at home.
The minute the fog rolls in off the ocean it feels like winter,
even in July.

“
Sort of feels like a
set-up, doesn’t it?” Jenna says as we walk toward my
bike.

I wonder if she thinks I had something
to do with it. “If I didn’t know better.”

“
I swear I didn’t know it
was you when Nina invited me,” she says, kicking at the gravel in
the parking lot.

“
Disappointed?”

“
No,” Jenna says, glancing
at me. “Not at all.”

I feel a jolt roll through my body as
she looks up at me with those big brown eyes.

“
Good.” I pull my backpack
off my shoulder. “Can you hold this for me? That way it’s easier
for you to hang on.”

“
Sure,” she says, her arm
bending as I hand it to her. “What have you got in
here?”

“
Books.”

“
Ah, a scholar athlete,”
she jokes, slinging it on her back.

“
I have to be if I want to
keep my scholarship.” I sit on the bike and flip the kickstand up.
“Hang on a second while I start it.” I flip the switch and jump on
the starter with my right foot as it roars to life loudly enough
that several guys at the front of the bar look over. “Okay,” I say,
steadying the bike with both feet. “Can you make it?”

Jenna’s wearing tiny little heeled
boots and tight black pants, but she straddles the bike like she’s
been doing it all her life. I didn’t anticipate the feelings that
would rush through me as she presses her body against my back. It’s
been so long since I’ve been this close to someone, it takes me a
few seconds to regain my composure enough to set the bike in
motion.

As I pull out of the parking spot,
Jenna puts her arms around my waist, her hands on either side of my
abs. Without thinking, I reach down and touch her hand on my
stomach and she turns her head and rests one cheek against my upper
back. Her thighs press against mine with every turn. I swallow hard
at the feel of her body against mine and try to remind myself that
this is only a ride home. I can’t get involved with Jenna—not
tonight and not ever.

We turn onto the two-lane road that
passes for a highway in this part of Texas and I force myself to
keep the speed down, as much to make the ride last longer as to
keep us both safe. I’ve given lots of girls rides before, but in
San Francisco there are helmets and leather jackets zipped up tight
against the cold. Riding over the gently rolling hills of Central
Texas through the warm night air with nothing but our shirts
between us is something else altogether.

Too soon, we’re at our building and I
pull up under the parking shelter, holding the bike so that Jenna
can slide off. I park it and kill the ignition, the sudden silence
surrounding us in the darkness.

“
Thanks,” I say, grabbing
my backpack from her.

“
Thank you for the ride,”
she says.

It’s suddenly a little awkward between
us, like her legs weren’t pressed against my thighs two minutes
ago. We walk silently toward the glass door of the building and I
hold it open for her like I did the other day. This time though,
her eyes meet mine as she walks through and there’s a daring look
in them I haven’t seen before. Instead of letting her walk ahead of
me, we walk slowly up the stairs together, neither of us knowing
what to say. Part of me doesn’t want this night to end and the
other, smaller, rational part of me knows that to take it further
wouldn’t be fair. To either of us.

We pass my apartment and I can hear
the gaming system booming from the other side. Jessie’s probably
not going to be finished anytime soon. I walk her to her door and
we stand there for a few seconds.

“
I’m glad it was you at
the bar tonight,” she says.

I look down at the worn, grey carpet.
“I’m glad it was you too. I’ve wanted to talk to you all year.”
What am I doing here? I should tell her goodnight and walk away
instead of standing here sounding like a teenager at the
prom.

“
Really?” She looks like
she’s trying decide if that’s just a line. “Why didn’t
you?”

I look back down and Jenna bites her
bottom lip just slightly in a way that’s both innocent and
undeniably sexy.

“
I just…” I can’t look at
her anymore, so I pull my eyes away and stare down the empty
hallway. Why haven’t I spoken to her in almost seven months?
Because I’ve spent that time becoming someone new and I can’t wreck
all of that hard work. Because I’d have to tell her about all of
the things that I’ve kept hidden from everyone if we got involved.
Because I’d have to be honest with her—and right now I can’t be
honest with anyone. “It’s complicated.”

“
Oh,” she says vaguely and
I know she doesn’t understand. How could she? Jenna puts the key in
her door. “Do you want to come in for a minute? I’ve got a couple
of beers in the fridge.”

I glance at my own front door. The one
I should be walking through right about now. “I should
go…”

There’s no denying the disappointment
in her eyes when she looks at me and it’s painful to know what I
could have here if I just take that one step forward.

“
Okay,” Jenna says. She
stands up on tiptoes and bends toward me, her lips grazing my
cheek. My head is filled with the soft, powdery scent of her mixed
with something deeper and sexier. “Thanks for the ride.” She lifts
one finger and draws it down my neck slowly and that’s all it takes
for me to lose every ounce of my resolve.

Before I can think about what I’m
doing, I bend down and kiss her so hard that I feel the breath
leave my body as I press her up against the door and lace her
fingers through my own. I’m starting to get lost in the kiss when
the reality of what I’m doing hits me.