Chapter 4
Jake
Stolen kisses are always sweetest.
Seeing the disgust in her eyes as she put me in my place after yelling at Chad was enough to make me realize what an ass I was and apologize. Apologizing is something I don’t do often. I just knew at that moment I never wanted her to look at me with cold eyes again. When she walked away muttering under her breath, I wanted to drop to my knees and beg for her forgiveness. Instead, I composed myself, made peace with Chad, and let her have the day to cool off. It was torture watching her in the water playing and laughing with Krista. I was jealous of her best friend and the water in the ocean for being able to glide against her legs and capture her attention. I’m such a bitch. I blame it on that fucking scrap of material she wore like it was a bathing suit. Don’t her parents check what she is wearing before she leaves their house? I need to quit rethinking every decision I made today and get my ass in gear to get this house in somewhat habitable conditions and kick most of these deadbeats out. I don’t know what it is about them; just because we have living conditions outside of the ship they feel like they have free-reign to eat, drink, sleep, and shit here. I wish some would shower, and then I wouldn’t have to bust out the febreeze.
I enlist the other rent paying guys in my quest. “Chad, get these fuckers out of here tonight. It isn’t party central here. Toby, pick up all the trash, and then help your girl clean the kitchen. Kara, can you help me straighten up the rest of the house?”
They all stare at me with no words forming. Heads cocked and mouths slacked, Kara is the first to speak, “You heard the man. Let’s help make it look like actual humans live here.” Surprisingly, everyone goes a different way, and I hear Chad yelling at half the ship to get out. Kara leans in and quietly says, “I knew it the first time she opened her mouth. She had ‘Jake’ stamped all over her. Good thing you got home last night because Toby was moving in on her, in front of Shayna.”
I am about to argue with her when the last part of her statement registers. ‘Toby moving in on her,’ and a white hot flash starts in my stomach and settles in my chest. I want to scream what an asshole Toby is and not good enough for her, but I shut down my initial response and grit my teeth, “Kara, she is sixteen. I admit she is beautiful, and makes me laugh, but not happening.”
“Keep telling yourself that, and maybe you will believe it. In the meantime I am off to play Cinderella and clean the two bathrooms in this house that about five hundred guys use on a daily basis. If you don’t hear from me in thirty minutes, call in reinforcements.”
I watch her walk off and move on to my tasks. My room is the only one that doesn’t need a major overhaul. We signed the lease on the house at the end of March and it goes through September. We deploy in November so we all have a month of ship life. While I was in the brig Chad promised me he would keep people out of my room, and he kept his word. I somehow ended up with the master bedroom, so I have my own bathroom, of course I pay the bigger share of the rent, but I have to have my privacy. Call it a burden of being an only child, and I don’t share well, which brings me back to the Toby and Paisley situation. I am hoping nothing comes of it, even though I can’t go after her, I don’t want the constant reminder of her with someone else, and that someone else being my roommate. Toby is a lot smaller than I am, and I think the Navy would frown upon murder. I don’t think I can serve my sentence in the brig . . . I think for sure that would entail a true prison term and doing hard time. Although, there is a federal prison in my hometown, so the only pro would be I would be close to home.
I hope there is something to drink in the house besides alcohol because I am not getting in trouble for contributing to the delinquency of a minor, but seeing as how we are all under age, I am wondering if that even would hold up? And hell, she drank last night so I guess that good intention can go out the window. I wonder if she is a funny drunk . . . she is hilarious sober, so I imagine she is. The house is about done being picked up, and Shayna is sweeping all the sand out, and it almost looks like grown-ups live here. I hear the front door open, and Paisley asking Krista if she ever knocks. I guess they are here. The cooler she is carrying tells me I don’t have to worry about contributing to a minor . . . she is doing fine all on her own.
She sets it down by the chair and grabs her purse from Krista and goes outside. I see the flicker of a flame from her lighter, and I cringe because that means she is smoking. I make my way outside and catch her mid-inhale. “Still trying to pollute your lungs?” I try to make a joke out of it, but I don’t take it lightly. Her response is an eye roll. “Your parents know you smoke?”
“Yes, my mother does. My step-dad probably does, too, but he won’t broach the subject because he quit not too long ago, and it is a forbidden subject. Is my mom happy about it? Nope, but it is the unspoken rule; don’t ask, and I won’t tell. As for you referring to everything you deem ‘unacceptable’ as a question to my parenting or home life, just stop. Sixteen is not the same as six.” The red in her cheeks I saw before she turned away from me, silently telling me my presence wasn’t wanted, was enough to let me know she was irritated with me. Story of my life where this girl is concerned.
“I wasn’t questioning your parent’s actions, just asking because it is such a nasty habit. Call it concern or whatever you want.”
“I call it ass-holism. You can’t help yourself, so I try to overlook it.”
“Ass-holism?” I am trying to hold in my laughter.
“That is all you got from that whole conversation?”
“No, I got it. Told you earlier I am trying to be better, and I can see when I let my asshole gene run dominant you will call me on my shit.”
“You seem to think I am going to be around full-time, or at least long-term.”
“Hoping.” I wink at her before I saunter in the house. Score one for me. I left that girl speechless. Thank fuck.
Surprisingly the night progresses rather calmly. Lots of conversation, lots of drinking, against my better judgment, and more of her smoke breaks. I catch her watching me throughout the night, and I have to admit I like it. She and Kara have hit it off, laughing and cutting up. Krista is occupied in Chad’s room, and Paisley doesn’t blink an eye at that.
“It doesn’t bother you that your friend drags you here and then leaves you for a quick fuck?” I broach the subject with her.
“Um, if you call three hours quick, I feel sorry or elated for you girlfriend, and why should I care? You seem to forget I don’t have training wheels on my bicycle anymore . . . I graduated to a vehicle with an actual engine, and by law I am allowed to drive it. What Krista and Chad do is their business . . . neither are virgins, and it doesn’t concern me, so I don’t involve myself. Unless he hurts her, then I will involve myself, but you have to care to be hurt and she won’t allow herself to care . . . so I am not too worried. Why are you all up in their business?”
“I just hope she doesn’t do this often to you, leaves you alone in strange places.” In fact, that makes my blood boil to think of her being put in dangerous situations.
“Holy shit! Buy a clue you idiot. I am not alone, I am not frightened, and for the last time . . . I AM NOT A CHILD.”
“Then maybe you need to quit shouting like one.” Probably not the smartest move on my part seeing the steam practically pouring out of her.
“Maybe you need to worry about yourself. I don’t know why you have appointed yourself keeper of Paisley, but I promise you, I don’t need a keeper. But, if I do I will let all other applicants know the job is filled . . . by a fucking Neanderthal.”
“Don’t say fuck; it isn’t attractive.”
“Again, that is what you got out of that conversation? You are clueless, and your apparent obsession with me is getting old. Shit or get off the pot.” She threw down the gauntlet. I knew she was feeling the tension, attraction, and connection simmering all night, but I never thought she would challenge me to act on it.
The entire time I inch my mouth closer to hers, I know it is wrong. The voice in the back of my head is telling me to stop, but damn if I do. I kiss her, not soft or sweet either. It is full of passion, branding, control, and fuck if it isn’t perfect from the moment my lips capture hers until the second I pull apart.
“Is that what you had in mind?” I challenge her to tell me I am wrong. She doesn’t, but she does grab me by the front of my shirt and pull me back down to her. Our lips collide, our minds quiet, and we begin the dance of our hearts taking over. Perfection. Complete and utter perfection. I don’t question if this is right, how it will work, or where we go from here. I stay in this moment, and for the first time in a long time, I feel I am where I am supposed to be. The only word that comes to mind . . . consummation.
She pulls away from me but doesn’t let go. I stare into her face, looking for any sign of regret. I see the opposite, her eyes mirror mine, and I let the tension leave my body and smile at her.
“Wow,” she mutters.
“I thought I had rendered you speechless.”
“You wish,” she mutters before reclaiming my lips. I hate to do it, but I put the brakes on.
“What is happening?”
“I thought it was pretty obvious, but if you need an explanation I am wondering who the high school student should be.”
“That, right there. How is this going to work?”
She shrugs, “It may not, but don’t you want to at least find out?” I mull it over, but answer the only way I can.
“Hell yes.” The smile I am rewarded with makes all the confusion and questions worth it. I would repeat those two words daily to see the happiness in her eyes.
The night ends too soon with me walking her out to the car and kissing her goodnight. We may not have all the answers tonight, but Rome wasn’t built in a day. We make plans to see each other tomorrow, and I thank the heavens that it is summer break so she can keep her later curfew seven nights a week. Briefly I think how wrong this situation is, but I let that thought fade away when I feel her lips on mine once again.
Chapter 5
Paisley
Love is a friendship set to music.
I no sooner get the door shut and Krista is launching an inquisition on me. “Holy shit, Kris . . . give me a second. Let me call my mom and let her know we are going to be a few minutes late.”
“Why? We will make it home in time.”
“Because you are about to pull your ass over so I can have a cigarette.” We have one rule . . . we don’t smoke in our cars. No exceptions.
“All hot and bothered are we, Pais?” she taunts me.
“Whatever, bitch. You are the one who smells like sex.”
“What does that even mean? Does sex have an odor?”
“Yes, and it is spelled K-R-I-S-T-A!” We both howl with laughter, I call my mom and tell her I have to pee, and we are on the road so she lets me slide with a “No more than fifteen minutes late, Paisley,” warning.
Krista pulls over into a parking lot, and I am out of the car with lighter and cigarette in hand. She doesn’t smoke . . . cigarettes. She is my little pothead. I will smoke occasionally, but not like her.
“Spill it sista. How did you go from avoiding him like he had the bubonic plague to face raping him in the span of . . .?”
“Five hours? Time slips away from you when you are on your back having monkey sex.”
“No animals were involved, and don’t change the subject.”
“I don’t know, Krista. I said something about shitting or getting off the pot, then it was on like Donkey Kong.”
“You told him that? Girl, the way he has watched you every time you are around that was like waving the red flag in front of a bull. Explain to me why, Paisley?”
“I can’t explain it. I don’t know how or why, I just know it felt right. He drives me crazy with his ass-holism, but he sets me on edge at the same time. How fucked up is that?”
“Pretty fucked up.” She is serious and doesn’t seem to like the thoughts she is having. She hesitates and won’t meet my eyes. “Be careful.” Almost like she is warning me.
“What? What do you know that I don’t, Kris?” Oh God, what if he has a wife back home waiting for him? I am a mistress. Wait, no don’t you have to have sex to be a mistress?
“Calm down, Pais I’m just saying, be careful. You don’t have the experience he has, hell that I have. You aren’t jaded, or tarnished, and I don’t want that for you.”
“It was a kiss. Or several. I didn’t pledge my undying love and take him to have and to hold.”
“You aren’t a prude, but you aren’t a risk taker. You think everything through, whether you realize it or not. You don’t make out with random guys . . . you aren’t a
normal
teenager. So all I am saying is if you took that leap with him, there is a reason and no matter what that reason is, be careful.”
“I don’t make out with random guys because no guy has shown an interest.” I clearly point out the obvious to her, in which she laughs at me. Full on laughing with tears running down her cheeks . . . and here comes the snorting. “Please share with the class, Krista, what is so funny?”