Facade (4 page)

How the fuck did she
lose that monstrosity?  And how does she not rip the ignition out of her car?
   

Once we’re finally inside, Kylee excuses herself to change into something more comfortable.  I’m unsure if I should think she’s going to put on some kind of lingerie or if she’s really putting on something more comfortable.  Pushing the thought from my head, I linger around the living room waiting for
her. 

It doesn’t take me too long to see a mess of papers, coffee cups and a laptop sitting on the coffee table.  How I didn’t notice this when I picked her up is beyond me.  It looks like she had a serious cram session, which makes no sense since she graduated over six months ago.  
Maybe grad school?

Kylee comes walking out of her bedroom wearing a pair of tight black pants and a
n oversized hooded University of Michigan sweatshirt.  See, these are the times I’m happy that I don’t assume it’s about sex and strip naked waiting for her; I would’ve made a real ass out of myself.

“Are you going for your M
asters?” I ask, pointing to the coffee table.  Maybe this is why she’s not looking for a job yet—so she can focus on her studies.

“Oh, no.
  Sorry about the mess.”  She immediately starts gathering up the coffee cups, carrying them to the kitchen, then returning to stack the papers and laptop. 

“What’s all that about then?”  Now my mind is running wild.  What the hell could she be doing? 

“Well, I have a little time before I need to leave for my mom’s house.”  She takes a long pause, looking like she’s gathering the strength to tell me something really important.  I’ve not seen her so invested in something since Mira was in the hospital and she was researching every possible outcome.

“Okay, well, tell me,” I say enthusiastically.  I sit on the far side of the couch and pat the seat right next to me, inviting her to join me. 

When she refuses to sit with me, but places herself on the edge of the loveseat across the room, I can only assume she’s planning on telling me something that I’m not going to like.  I scoot back into the cushion, placing my elbows on my knees, and impatiently wait for her to talk.  If she doesn’t get to it soon, I’m going to flip my shit. 
You’re one to talk.

“I’ve kind of decided what I’m going to do with my life,” she says shyly. 

“And …”

“I’m going to be a writer.” 
A writer?  That’s completely out of left field.  That certainly doesn’t fall in a profession she should be taking with her degree.

“Like a journalist.”  It’s the only thing I can think of.  I want to be supportive, but she’s completely lost me.

“No, not a
journalist
,” she retorts with a hint of attitude behind her words.  “I’m going to be a writer, like an author.  I want to write stories.”

“When did you decide this?” 

“This morning, when I couldn’t find anything to read.  It kind of just clicked.  I know that I’ll have a lot of work to do and dues to pay, but I started jotting down notes earlier and just got lost.  I think that’s a good sign.” 

“What kind of books are you going to write?”

“Probably romance.  It’s my favorite to read and one of the most popular.  I think I can really get into writing a good contemporary novel.”

“So, like those books with the long
-haired model on a horse?”  I’m up on current trends.  I know what’s popular in this genre.  It’s kind of hard
not
to notice when every television show’s talking about what scenes are being filmed in a very anticipated book-to-movie.

“You’re a dick.  No, there will be no long
-haired models and for
sure
no horses, I can promise that.  Now, give me a man with abs beautiful enough to make my toes curl and we can talk.”  Kylee throws a pillow at me and the lightness in the room encourages me to open up, too.

“That’s really exciting, Ky.  I’m so happy you found something you’re so excited about.  It’s such a great feeling knowing that you’re going to get to do what you love.”  The smile that spreads across her lips ignites something inside of me. 

“Thanks.  It’s going to be a while before my book is finished, but I can’t wait for that day to come.  It was seriously like someone opened the blinds and the sun poured in.  I don’t know why I didn’t think of this earlier.”

She proceeds to tell me about the concept behind the book she’s working on and I’m floored.  Just looking at Kylee
, I can tell she’s bound for greatness.  I only hope she lets me come along on this journey she’s starting.  I really want nothing more than to be by her side, supporting and encouraging her. 

Now that we’re having an honest conversation, and Kylee’s walls seem down, I’m about
to dive headfirst into the land of the unknown that is our relationship and the one thing I’ve been keeping from her.  I feel it’s finally the right time; now or never.  The second I open my mouth, Kylee glances at her phone and starts freaking out.

“Oh
, shit.  I have to go.”  Kylee is frantically jumping around and yelling about being late to her parents’ house. 

Running around the house collecting clothing and something from the kitchen, the one woman tornado grabs a bag and shoves everything inside.  She picks up the small duffle bag and her purse and walks to the door, impatiently tapping her foot
while waiting for me to join her.  When I stand to get my coat from the back of the dining chair, she sarcastically huffs, tapping at the invisible watch on her wrist. 

“Jacoby, come on.  I’m already late,” Kylee whines.

“Okay, Kylee, I’m coming, I’m coming.”

“Do you need me to get your walker for you, old man?”

“You’re adorable when you’re acting like a baby.  Rushing never gets you anywhere.  Did you forget about the tortoise and the hare?”  I tap her nose when I reach where she’s standing.  Kissing the top of her head as I walk her out, I lock the door behind me.

“Keep fucking with me and watch how fast I write you in, only to kill you off,” she jokes.  At least I
hope
she’s joking.

We walk out together and I see Kylee to her car.  I wait
with her for the few minutes it takes to warm up. I insist that she sits in my car, but she’s very,
very
adamant that she needs to hurry and waiting by her car will be faster. 

“Jacoby, you don’t need to wait with me.  I’m fine.” 

“I’m waiting.  End of discussion.”  I envelop her in my arms, rubbing my palms up and down her back.  I’m tempted to run my hands up the back of her hoodie, but the angel on my shoulder wins out over the devil.

Two days and she’ll be back
, I remind myself.  I can do two little days.  There’s plenty to keep me busy.  Now that we’ve talked about what is making her happiest in her life, I know exactly what to get her for Christmas.  We decided weeks ago that we wouldn’t be shopping for each other, since we’re not technically a couple, but the ideas racing through my mind are too good to pass up.  She’s either going to love it or hate it. 

Kissing her, not wanting to stop, I
get her into the car and watch as she pulls out of the complex before I’m in my car heading home.

CHAPTER FOUR

Kylee

Christmas with my parents is the one time of year that I enjoy being home.  All the decorations, food,
presents and time spent with the company of family really does put me in a good frame of mind.  The constant reminders of my childhood rejuvenate my soul.  My parents still wait until I’m asleep before putting my presents under the tree.  Kind of silly, but it makes me smile because no matter what, I’m still their little girl.

But then reality comes crashing down, and I remember that I am, in fact,
nobody’s
little girl.  I’m a grown woman with more issues than someone with a close to perfect upbringing should have.  My mother is the kindest woman I’ve ever met in my life; always putting the needs of her family ahead of her own dreams.  She once told me that she had wanted to go to New York to try to become a model.  She was gorgeous—shit, she
still
looks a good twenty years younger than her fifty-seven years.  She could have done it, but decided to marry my father instead and start a family.

My father, he’s one hell of a character.  He’s a senior partner is his law firm and worked his ass off over th
e last thirty years to get there.  For as long as I can remember, he and my mother have made the perfect couple.  He worked late and she took care of me, but then we would always have our weekends and holidays together.  Family time was something they always held valuable, and one thing that hasn’t changed. 

I know people say that women always fall for men like their daddies.  That’s the scary thought.  Jacoby and my father are very similar in many aspects.  Both are dedicated to their careers, excellent at what they do,
have impeccable wit, are steady providers and have goals they’re bound to accomplish, professional
and
personal.  I wish that’s where the similarities end; between my father, Jacoby and
all
men in general, if I’m being honest.

I always thought when I had a family of my own, this is the kind of life I would want for them.  Of course, I was sad when my dad couldn’t make my volleyball games because he was working on an important case
. My mother was always there with her number one fan foam finger waiving in the air, metaphorically at least.  But after every game, even if it was late and well after my bedtime, my father always came home with an ice cream cone for me to celebrate my win … or loss. 

Then
, during the first semester of my freshman year in college, everything changed.  I no longer looked at my family as the model for all of my adult dreams.  What happened made me resent each and every family vacation, sporting event, weekend and holiday, except Christmas.  The way the Anderson family does Christmas is not to be rivaled; we kind of kick ass at Christmas.

“Kylee, honey, are you about ready?”  My mother hates being late
, my uncle’s annual “Anderson Christmas Extravaganza” is about to begin and our presence has been requested. 

“Yep, just finishing up.
  Be right down,” I holler. 

I must say, today wasn’t all that it has been in the past.  Something is missing
, and my thoughts keep drifting back to last night—the wonderful time I had with Jacoby.  Any man that is willing to give a girl her Cinderella fantasy should rank pretty high in my book, but due to unforeseen complications in my personal life, that just isn’t the case anymore.  I almost prefer that he had taken me to the sports bar, ordered us beers and gone back to his house for a round of crazy sex—or two.

Making a girl want more than she knows
will ever be possible is kind of cruel.  Sure, I could give—become Jacoby’s girlfriend or whatever it is that he wants—but then where’s the game? 

G
ames aren’t just for children; they often carry into adulthood, too.  And you know the game I’m talking about: boy meets girl, boy chases girl, boy wins girl.  That’s where it ends; when he wins.  I’d rather be chased and chased some more.  It makes for some pretty spectacular foreplay.  If I give in, there’s nothing more for him to “win” and the fun is lost.  Then I’m no better than …

Christmas is not the time to be thinking
about that, especially since there’s an amazing party to attend where I might actually get to sit at the adult table.  There’s nothing worse than sitting at the kids’ table, drinking spiked eggnog with my fifteen-year-old cousins that stare at my tits.  It’s creepy and makes my skin crawl. 
Weird little bastards.

The party goes pretty smooth
ly.  I
did
end up at the adult table, which was nice for a change.  Unless you count my cousin Amber—who just gave birth to twins—pumping breast milk at the dining room table, or my uncle lighting the tablecloth on fire, it was a nice night.

Instead of staying with my parents overnight, I decide to head
home.  There are some ideas for my book floating around in my head that I want to put on paper before I forget.  I think about calling Jacoby, but since he’s been on my mind most of the day, I opt to put a little distance between us.  I’m sure he’s going to be calling me tomorrow to go out again, or at least come fuck him, so I’ll take a night just for me.

I finally get home a little after ten.  Very much to my surprise, Jacoby and Mira’s cars are
both
in the parking lot. 
Why is Mira here?  She went home with Skylar for Christmas.  And Jacoby, what the fuck?

The sudden pang of jealousy starts to flow through my already icy veins.  Not that I think that Mira would ever cheat on Skylar, but I’m
pretty sure that Jacoby would fuck Mi if he had the chance.  My jealousy quickly turns to me wanting to be protective and save Mira from whatever is going on inside the apartment.  I waste no time running up to the building, taking the steps to my second floor unit two at a time.

I throw open the front door and see nobody in the living room, but
hear the distinct sound of Mira’s laughter coming from her old bedroom. 

“You son of a bitch,” I seethe, running down the hallway.  Just outside the door, I listen, trying to get an idea of exactly what he’s doing to my best friend that she’s enjoying so very much.

“Oh God, Jacoby.  Yes!”  Mira squeals in delight. 
I’m going to kill her and then call Skylar to kill him.

“Are you sure?”
Jacoby questions, sounding very breathy. 
Why am I listening to this?

“Yes, yes, yes. 
Perfect fit.”  So, Mira claps during sex.  A little weird, but everyone has their thing.  I’m a scratcher, she claps ... totally legit.

“You’re the best,” Jacoby says
, and then the sound of a kiss reverberates through my body.  That’s it.  I can’t listen to this anymore. 

I turn the handle quietly, as to not alert the pair, and then fling the door open so hard it hits something on the opposite wall.  Something crashes to the floor followed by Jacoby falling next to it.

“Kylee, what the fuck?  What are you doing home?”  Mira looks angry. 
Who is she to get angry with me?
  She’s in
my
apartment, fucking my ... whatever he is … and she has a boyfriend.  Wait, people don’t usually fuck with their clothes on while standing six feet apart.  Jacoby’s packing, but not six fucking feet.

“I came home early.  I guess I should ask what you’re doing here.”  My eyes scan the room and then it hits me.  They’re doing something for
me
.

Not only are Mira and Jacoby fully dressed, but they’re covered in paint.  Looking around, the color that’s on their clothes is the same one that’s on the freshly coated walls; a deep blue on three walls and nothing’s changed on the white wall with the window.  It would appear that all of Mira’s extra things have been moved out of the room, including her bed.  In its place is a cherry oak desk, complete with photographs of my friends on the desktop.

On the wall that used to house Mira’s dresser, is a floor to ceiling bookshelf littered with my collection of paperbacks and other memorabilia that I’ve collected over the years.  Finally, on the wall with the door, where I knocked Jacoby over, is a ladder leading up to a set of the most beautiful frames I’ve ever seen.  The photographs are what amaze me, though.

The center picture is one taken of Jacoby and me during a social function I attended with him a few weeks ago.  We’re dressed to the nines
, with me in the most formal cocktail dress I’ve ever worn, and him in a tuxedo.  The two pictures on the outside are of me and my friends during college.  Looking closer, they’re the exact pictures I have in a much smaller size next to my bed.

“What is all this?” I ask
, in awe of the appeal of this room.  I should bottle the calming effect and sell it on the black market and make a fortune.  This room is really spectacular.

“It’s for you.”  Jacoby walks over to me, putting his thumb and forefinger around my chin, directing my gaze to him.

“For what?”  I’ve never been so lost, but calm at the same time.  I’m bringing a blowup mattress in here because it’s
that
peaceful.

“You said you wanted to be a writer. 
All
amazing writers have a space that’s dedicated to them.  This is that space for you … a place you can get away and create the stories that fuel your mind.  There are still a few things I want to get you for in here, but for now, this is your cave, Kylee.  Do you like it?”  The doubt spilling out of his last question breaks my heart. 

“Jacoby, this is the greatest gift that I’ve ever received.  Thank you so, so much.  It’s amazing
, and I can’t
wait
to write in here.”

“Ahem,” Mira clears her throat, seeking appreciation for her efforts. 
I forgot the clapper was still here
.

“And Mira, you’re the best friend a girl could have.  Thank you,
bestie.” 

“Oh, you know.  It’s no problem.  Skylar didn’t want to stay at his parents’ house,” she blushes.  “I’m gonna get going.  It looks like you guys want to be alone and if I’m driving this late, Sky will worry. 
Night guys.”  Mira grabs her purse from my desk, blows me an air kiss and skips out the door, obviously happy with the results of my new cave.

I casually walk around the room, inspecting all the amazing things Jacoby has done, on Christmas day no less.

“How did you get all this done?”

“Kylee,” he chuckles, “not
everyone
celebrates Christmas.  I happen to know who those people are, and when I tell them I want it done ASAP, they tend to listen.”  I know he’s referring to his money without throwing it in my face.

“Well, Merry Christmas, Mr. Roberts.”  I push up on my tip toes and kiss his chin. 

He takes full advantage of my softened state, pulling me into his arms and crushing his mouth to mine.  What starts as passionate and slow quickly takes a turn toward hot and steamy.  When he hoists me up, I wrap my legs around his waist, urging him to continue his exploration.  Large, strong hands come underneath my body, gripping my ass tightly, and a warm, moist mouth comes down on my neck, biting at my favorite spot in the dip of my neck. “Jacoby,” I pant, wishing we were already naked.  I shamelessly grind on his cock that’s pressing hard against the seam of his pants.

“Yeah, Red, I know.”  Our heavy breathing mixes together into the most beautiful, erotic song I’ve ever heard, making me yearn for more of his touch in all the right places.

He lets go of my ass, and I slowly slide down his body as my strength waivers.  I quickly put my feet down, so I don’t fall flat on my ass, but then again, if I’m already down, I’m in the perfect position to be taken. 

“Turn around.” 
There’s
the authoritative voice I’ve been dreaming of night after night.

I comply, turning toward the desk
, and wait for further instructions.  I sense Jacoby’s hands before I feel them.  He reaches around my waist, taking the button of my jeans and unbuttoning it, unzipping the zipper and sliding them down my legs.  Before long, I’m standing before him fully exposed from the waist down.

Jacoby nudges me closer to the desk
, and I have to put my palms on the surface to stop from moving forward any further.  His knee comes between my slightly parted thighs, urging them further apart and the familiar feeling of his hands is back on my hips. 

Anticipating his next move, I’m stunned when I feel his warm breath on the exposed skin of my ass.  Running a finger between my swollen lips, I gasp when he inserts at least two fingers inside of me.

“Jacoby.”  That’s all I can say.  I’m lost. 

I feel empty when he removes himself from me.  That is, until I hear a slight sucking sound.  I turn around to find him kneeling on the floor with his fingers in his mouth, cleaning off the fingers that were just inside me.  The ache deep within my core starts to throb and I’m sure I can come just from watching this.

“Turn around and bend over, Kylee.”  The sharpness in his voice excites something within me.  I don’t argue.  I don’t fight.  I just listen to his command.

His mouth comes down hard on my clit.  This is such a new experience, even for me.  I start to miss the typical position we’re in when he’s devouring my pussy; pulling his hair, pushing him further into my core, riding the waves of an orgasm.  I quickly forget everything other than how amazing and foreign this feels.