Friends With Partial Benefits (6 page)

"Jesus, Mom," he said loudly.

Rising up quickly, Jillian looked a little frightened. When she turned her head, she found Rob standing there with an angry look on his face. Smiling, Jillian pushed herself up, turned on her side, stood, and rushed over to hug her son. Brian’s guess about the modesty of the bikini top was right on the money, and Rob’s face confirmed it. Brian tore his eyes away from her chest to avoid being rude and to also see if her face was worthy of that body. He found that it was more than worthy. Jillian looked young; she was in her late thirties or early forties, he thought. Worst case, forty-two.

Rob asked, "What the hell are you wearing?"

Jillian ignored the question as she grabbed hold of him and squeezed tightly while he reciprocated halfheartedly. Brian looked on, amazed. This was not your average mother of a college-aged son, he thought. For some reason, he momentarily pictured his mother wearing Jillian’s tiny bikini, but he quickly shook off the image. His mother's bikini days were well behind her.

"You look good," she said. "Looks like you’re eating."

"Is that one of Victoria’s bikinis?" Rob asked with a sneer.

Jillian looked down, noticed that the suit was barely covering her chest, and turned to retrieve a large beach towel from the chair. She proceeded to wrap it around her shoulders so it draped over her breasts and the tiny bikini bottom front.

"Sorry." She widened her eyes and gave them an embarrassed look. "I forgot I had on my tanning suit. Oh, and it
is
one of Victoria’s. It’s too conservative for her now, if you can believe that."

Rob said, "Mom, this is Brian Nash. Brian, this is my mother, Jillian Grayson."

Looking at Brian, she smiled. "I’ve heard a lot about you. We’re glad to have you here."

Brian returned the smile. "Nice to meet you, Miss Grayson. Your house is incredible."

"Thank you. Please, call me Jillian."

Rob mumbled something to her about her bikini bottoms, since her ass was still showing way too much for his taste; the towel cover-up was only working to shield the front of her.

Rolling her eyes at her son, she turned away from them both, which re-exposed her perfect ass to Brian. Then she removed the towel and wrapped a sheer sarong around her bikini bottom. Brian’s jaw dropped. She draped the towel around her shoulders and turned back toward them, fully covered. Brian glared secretly at Rob.

"What time is it?" she asked.

"About four," Rob replied.

"You guys are really early. I didn’t expect to be greeting you wearing this. As I said, this is my not-so-family-friendly suit," Jillian said with a smile.

"I like the bikini," Brian said casually, as he looked back toward the tennis court and began walking toward it.

"Thanks," she said as she turned to follow his gaze.

As he approached the court, Brian said, "You’ve got Decoturf."

When Jillian heard those words, she trailed after him, and they stood at the entrance to the court. Rob walked over to join them.

Brian looked at her. "Did you put this in or was it here when you bought the house?"

"I put it in," she replied. "How’d you know it’s called Decoturf?"

"It’s what they play on at the Open," Brian replied as he kneeled down to touch it.

"That’s one of the reasons I chose it."

"What else did you consider?"

Jillian smiled at Brian as he remained on the ground, touching it and looking back up at her. She said, "It was between the Har-tru or the Decoturf."

Standing, Brian looked over the court, nodding. "You definitely made the right choice."

Rob rolled his eyes at the tennis conversation and turned to look toward the pool.

She said, "I was worried about the fact that it might be harder on your knees."

Brian looked back at her. "From what I’ve read, I think the only advantage of the Har-tru surface over the Decoturf is that it dries a little faster when it rains. Both provide the player equal cushioning, but the Decoturf wins, hands-down, with its truer bounce and surer footing."

Jillian gazed at Brian, captivated during his court surface analysis, while Rob turned back and listened to them gape-mouthed.

"What do you think of the color? I went with the spring green on the inner and the Olympic blue on the outer."

Rob breathed in deeply. "Excuse me, guys, but I’m going to go in, turn on the gas, wait five minutes, and then light a match."

Neither Jillian nor Brian looked Rob’s way.

"All right," Brian said absently toward Rob and looked Jillian in the eye. "I think it looks great, and there’s just enough contrast between the blue and the lines, to make it easier to call those baseline shots. Yet the blue’s not so overpowering, you know?"

She nodded along with Brian as they continued chatting. Rob was nearing the house with his eyes wide as he could still hear the remnants of their passionate tennis exchange. He thought if this was any indication of what the conversation around the place was going to be like all week, he would be spending more time with Laura than he had initially planned.

Jillian prepared steaks and baked potatoes on the grill and added a salad for dinner, which she and the guys ate at the outdoor table. She had a glass of wine, and Brian and Rob drank beer. Luckily for Rob, there was no discussion of tennis surfaces at dinner, mainly because that subject had been worked ad nauseam for at least twenty more minutes after he left the tennis-obsessed nerds alone on the court. There was, however, a discussion of the current state of men’s and women’s tennis and how neither Jillian nor Brian cared very much for the Williams sisters. They also discussed how, on the men’s side, the U.S. players had been such a disappointment during the last decade. They agreed that although Sampras dominated the game, he was a dull champion that neither really rooted for. Roddick had some personality, and it appeared that he would be the next great American star, but since winning the U.S. Open in 2003, he’d been a non-factor on the tour. Rob sat through it all looking bored while the two of them eagerly exchanged opinions.

Jillian noticed the look on her son’s face. "That’s probably enough tennis chat for the night. Brian do you have a job lined up after graduation?"

"I do, actually. It’s with America Bank at their headquarters in Delaware. I interned there last summer, and they offered me a position in their management program. It’s not my dream job, but the job market stinks right now."

"That’s fantastic!" she said.

"Rob tells me you’re a writer."

"Mostly romance novels. Somehow they sell really well. Thankfully, I have a large group of loyal readers."

Rob looked proudly at his mother. "Women love her books. I tried reading one once and couldn’t make it through. No offense, Mom."

She waved him off as if she agreed.

Jillian looked at Brian. "Rob told me he’ll be with Laura for part of the week. So even when Rob’s not here, feel free to use the pool and the workout room, and eat whatever food you want. Make yourself at home."

"I appreciate that."

Rob said, "I spoke to Laura—I think the three of us are going out tomorrow night."

"I usually wake up early, Brian," Jillian said. "So, I’ll try to keep it down in the morning, if you’re a light sleeper."

Rob scoffed. "He’s not a light sleeper at all. He’s the heaviest sleeper on the planet."

Brian looked at her, a little embarrassed. "Noise doesn’t bother me at all. I have to set my alarm to the loudest volume for it to wake me."

"His alarm wakes up the entire building," Rob said with a grin.

"I turn it off quickly, so it’s not that bad. Besides I only have an early class one day a week, so most days I wake up before it goes off anyway. But I never get up before eleven otherwise. My eyes just don’t open."

"Once he was dating this girl—" Rob started.

"She doesn’t—" Brian interrupted, shaking his head.

Rob continued anyway, "She was trying to wake him up and tried all the normal stuff, you know, but nothing would work. So she finally sat on top of him and bounced up and down. We all watched. It was hilarious. And he still didn’t get up. Wait... I have a picture."

Pulling out his phone, Rob began searching. Brian said, "She doesn’t want to see that."

"I do," Jillian said, smiling.

Rob handed Jillian the phone. She looked at the picture and laughed.

"Wow, that didn’t wake you up? She’s a big girl. How tall is she?" she asked as she handed back the phone.

"She’s five-eleven and on the volleyball team," Brian said. "I remember, that night I couldn’t sleep so I took Tylenol PM. When I do that, I’m out cold."

"I have trouble falling asleep, too, but sometimes an Ambien helps. But no matter what time I go to bed, I get up about six hours later. I wish I could sleep late. You still dating the volleyball girl?" Jillian asked.

"No, I’m kind of dating this girl, Natalie, sort of…" Brian said.

Sighing, Rob glared at him.

"What?"

"I thought we weren’t going to talk about her."

"She asked," Brian said defensively.

"She really didn’t. She only asked about the tall girl," Rob shot back.

Brian exhaled. "Would you rather we talk about tennis?"

"God, no! Tell her the whole story, then. Continue torturing yourself," Rob added as he sat back in his chair and took a sip of beer.

Jillian looked at one and then the other. "Relationships can be hard work."

Sitting up once more, Rob frowned. "Some are way more than others. This girl is messing with his head. He fell in love with her simply because she can do this ballet move where she keeps one leg on the ground and points the other toward the ceiling. She can hold it there for, like, an hour."

"She’s really talented," Brian announced proudly.

Shaking his head, Rob scoffed.

Jillian smiled. "A ballet dancer, huh? I used to take gymnastics back in middle school. It’s similar, with the balancing and all. That sounds like a very advanced position."

"You see," Brian said, looking pointedly at Rob.

Rob nodded, unconvinced. "He’s obsessed with her, and she’s telling him to wait for her, while she’s running around with other guys."

"I just want to give her a little more time because she asked me to wait, so—"

"Wait? Wait for what?"

Brian looked down at his plate for a moment, then back to Rob as he opened his mouth to speak, but he had nothing.

After looking around uncomfortably, Jillian's eyes brightened. "Let’s have dessert."

She got up, went into the house, and returned a few minutes later with a small birthday cake with twenty-one lit candles. She placed it on the table in front of Rob as he frowned at her in embarrassment.

"I know your birthday isn’t until tomorrow, and you didn’t want me making a big deal, but I figured you’d be with Laura, so..."

"Just no singing, okay?" Rob said before he blew out the candles.

"Happy birthday," Jillian said with a proud smile.

"Happy birthday, dude. No more fake ID for you," Brian said.

Jillian gave Brian a mock-angry look and then smiled. "Yeah, Brian, weren’t you the one corrupting my young son? You got him that ID when he was only a sophomore."

"Mom, knock it off."

Brian looked at her, confused. "He said I got it? He got me mine. He’s the one with the connections."

Raising her eyebrows, Jillian looked at Rob.

"So, I lied. I didn’t want you to think I was going crazy at college," Rob explained sheepishly.

She said, "I’m scared to ask what other connections you had back then."

"
My
connections? What about your connection—Victoria?"

Jillian shook her head like she didn’t want to go there, as Brian sat on the edge of his seat. This definitely wasn’t like a typical dinner with his family.

Rob chimed in, "Victoria is my mother’s crazy friend. If you need
anything
, see her."

Jillian scoffed, "She’s not that crazy. She’s just..." She caught Rob making a face and added, "Okay, she's a little fun—yeah
fun
is the word." Jillian looked at the table and said, "We need plates." She left the table and headed back into the house.

While she was gone, Rob shared a few quick stories about how much "fun" Victoria really was.

The next morning in the kitchen, Jillian prepared scrambled eggs while wearing a bikini under a beach cover-up. Rob entered the room, grabbed a banana from the bowl on the table and took a bottle of water from the counter.