Summer Rush (4 page)

Wanting to give it back to him I open my mouth to spat some snarky remark, but notice the words aren’t coming out. Instead, I’m focused on the lower half of his body; focused on his sausage–I mean, junk.

Jesus, Hope–get a grip!

“See something you like, sweetheart?” Joey asks, cupping his manhood.

“Yes. NO! No, I don’t like Italian sausage. I mean, yes. Yes, I like sausage on my pizza, but not…not yours!” I blurt out, face flushed, furious that he can get under my skin so easily.

“Shit, baby, we’re just talking about pizza toppings, but I like how your mind works,” Joey says with a wink.

With a quick roll of the eyes and a deep breath I ask, “So what would you like to eat?” through gritted teeth.

Gliding his tongue along his lips, my eyes,
again,
center on the way his wet tongue slides so smoothly over his mouth, sending a wave of heat throughout my body.

God, he’s got nice lips and his tongue…

Shaking my head to clear the images, I give him an annoyed look, waiting for his order.

“I’ll just have a burger, too…for now,” he answers with his infamous grin.

Are ‘ya kidding me? A burger? After all that?

Cringing when I see their food ready under the heaters, I load their plates onto the tray and take a deep breath before heading back over to Joey’s table.

“Just in time, baby,” Joeys says as I rest the large tray on the stand. “I was gettin’ so hungry I almost came lookin’ for you to get an appetizer.” He arches an eyebrow and focuses his eyes on the crotch of my shorts.

Oh my god!

Being too flustered for words, I give him a disgusted look complimented by a nice eye roll.

“Maybe later,” he adds with a seductive grin and wink.

Shaking my head and rolling my eyes yet again, I basically throw their plates down in front of them, and walk away without even asking if they have everything they need.

Throughout their meal my check-ins become fewer and far between. The obscenities and drunken behavior haven’t improved; the more he drinks, the dirtier and more offensive he gets. Luckily they ask for the check just as I am about to cut him off or kick him to the curb, whichever came first.

Throwing their check on the table, I’m barely able to spit out a “have a nice day” through my clenched teeth. Just as I’m about to turn and walk away Joey grabs my hand, pulling me next to him. I originally try to tug my hand away, but feeling his soft, but firm, fingers wrapped around mine, I keep it where it is.

“You’re not mad, are ‘ya? I’m just screwin’ around,” Joey asks with a sweet grin.

My rage and irritation immediately start to melt away, feeling the warmth of his hand and seeing a softness in his eyes. Peeking through his cocky asshole shell, I see a gentler guy. Could there really be a nice, genuine person hiding behind this sex driven wall he puts up?

Not having words, I just shake my head no.

“Well, if you don’t hate me already, I’d love to take you out sometime?” he says, rubbing his thumb over the top of my hand. The simple gesture makes my heart swell in serenity.

Coming back to reality, and remembering what an ass he has been to me all evening, I gently remove my hand from his. “I’m sorry, but I can’t …I have a boyfriend.”

Although I know this is the appropriate response, because I
do
have a boyfriend, I can’t help but notice the hint of disappointment in my tone as I say it.

“Eh, no worries,” he says, dropping my hand. “I’m sure I’ll see ‘ya around.” He nods his head at me with a cocky grin before getting up and walking away.

Confused as to what just happened, I stand there frozen, staring at the empty seat that Joey had just been sitting in.

What the hell was that all about?

As much as I want to hate the guy, I can’t. He does something to me that no one has ever done before. He gets under my skin and into my blood like an irresistible drug. Although I know I shouldn’t want him, I do. I crave him and want just one taste to see what he’s like, if he’s worth the rush I get from him.

Joey’s my drug in the worst way possible.

The summer ended, and the fall came and went. I haven’t see Joey since the night he asked me out. Although this should be a good thing, my heart aches with the time that has passed since I last saw him. Attempting to move forward in my relationship with Trent, I try to force the thoughts and images of Joey to the back of my head. Whatever chemistry Joey and I felt this past summer is done and over with. I need to toss it under the table and forget about it; easier said than done, though. As much as I push any thoughts of Joey away during the daytime, he still haunts my dreams at night–he comes alive when I have no control over my mind.

Although everything has been okay with Trent, things aren’t the same as they were before Joey entered my life. All these mixed emotions I have for Joey definitely make me analyze my relationship with Trent; wondering if Trent is
the one
and if what we have is real or just a temporary thing. Was Joey a hint that maybe there is more out there? Maybe I don’t feel complete with Trent, and that’s why I showed interest in Joey. As much as I want to forget about Joey, he has made a lasting impression that there’s no getting rid of.

At least anytime soon.

Today’s Christmas; a day to celebrate life, love, and happiness. As we did last year, we are having Christmas dinner with Trent and his family at Sheila’s house. Pulling out my only pair of black dress pants, and designated red Christmas sweater, I get myself all prettied up for the holiday.

“Well, don’t you look beautiful,” my father greets me as I walk into the living room.

“Thanks, Merry Christmas,” I greet both my parents with a hug and kiss.

Growing up on a tight budget, we’ve never exchanged presents like most families do.
Life
is what we celebrate during the holidays. Knowing how close my family once was to being torn apart in a horrific accident, we use the holidays to be thankful for what we have and the life we still live, not letting the superficials of Christmas get in the way of what’s most important–family and togetherness.

“You ladies ready to head out?” my father asks after they both wish me a Merry Christmas back.

“Yup.”

“Ready.”

Trent greets us at the door to help lift my mom’s wheelchair up and over the stairs with my dad.

“Merry Christmas, Mr. and Mrs. Taylor,” Trent says, shaking my dad’s hand and hugging my mom.

“Merry Christmas,” they both respond.

“Merry Christmas, Angel,” Trent whispers in my ear, pulling me to his side and kissing my temple.

“Merry Christmas, babe,” I respond, reaching up to kiss his lips.

“The house smells amazing. I can’t wait to see what your mom has cooked up for us this year,” my dad says, squeezing Trent’s shoulder.

“She’s been in the kitchen all morning. I’ve barely seen her since I arrived,” Trent jokes.

“Help yourself to whatever you’d like to drink.” He motions to the bar set up on the center island in the kitchen. My father nods with a smile, before he pushes my mom in that direction.

“Come with me, I’ve been dying to give you your gift.” Trent grabs my hand and pulls me into the family room. The Christmas tree looks beautiful in the front window, sparkling with white lights.

He bends down and reaches for a small square box underneath the tree.

“Babe, I thought we agreed not to exchange gifts?” We discussed this a few weeks ago and now I feel bad that I didn’t get him anything.

“It’s just something I want you to have,” he responds with a soft smile.

My heart is beating so hard that I think it’s about to leap from my chest. I tear off the wrapping paper, and stare at a square, velvet jewelry box. My breathing has now stopped and I am beginning to sweat profusely, scared to see what’s inside.

“It’s not what you think. Just open it, Angel.”

Opening the box, I see a shiny gold…key.
Oh thank God, it’s just a key.
I exhale the breath I am holding, relieved it’s not what I thought it was. But, a key? Why did he get me a key?

“Angel, this is the key to my house…”

Oh, god!

“I’m not asking you to move in with me…”

Oh, thank god!

“but, I would like to move in that direction.”

Shit!

Speechless, I stare at the small box and shiny key. I try to calm my overactive nerves. It’s just a key. It’s not a ring; just a key. I look up at Trent. He is so handsome and so full of love, love for me. “Thank you,” I say, reaching up to kiss him. I drape my arms around his neck pulling him in closer. His soft lips are on mine and our eager tongues wrap together. A deep warmth runs through my veins, reminding me of the love and passion we share.

“Mmmm, I love you,” Trent whispers against my lips as he pulls back a little. Smiling into his eyes, I whisper back. “I love you, too.”

“What do ‘ya think about coming back to my place tonight?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

“I think we can arrange that,” I answer, running my tongue along my lips.

“Damn, Angel, do that again, and we might just have to skip out after dinner.”

With smoldering eyes that could melt my insides, he fists my sweater pulling me in tight. “Come to think about it, I actually wouldn’t mind having you for dessert,” he almost growls against my lips.

“Mmm, with whipped cream?” I whisper in a suggestive tone, surprising myself with my sexual insinuation.

Apparently I surprise him, too, because his eyes dart open like I’ve told him my deepest, darkest secret.

“Dessert will definitely be served at my house.”