Authors: Tiffany King
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #New Adult
“As long as your bedroom is clean,” Trish answered, spooning the cookie dough onto a cookie sheet.
“It is,” Hollie claimed. She jumped up and down with excitement and grabbed Justin’s hand to drag him from the kitchen.
“Do you need help?” I asked, rising from the bar stool I was perched on.
“No, we got it. Sit and relax. I bet Mom would even be willing to share her coffee,” he said, indicating the coffeepot on the counter.
“Cups are in the cabinet over the microwave,” Trish said shortly.
Feeling uncomfortable, I walked around the counter and grabbed a large mug. Awkward silence filled the room as I
doctored up my coffee to my taste preference before heading back to my seat.
Trish kept her eyes on the task at hand, while I contemplated broaching the subject that was most likely bothering her. Finally, after several minutes had passed, I decided to take the plunge. It was like removing a Band-Aid. If you did it slowly, it hurt way more than one quick pull.
“Um, Trish,” I started, wondering if I should have fallen back on formality and used her last name instead.
“Yes,” she said finally, looking troubled.
“Are you upset that I’m staying here for Christmas break?” I asked, pulling the Band-Aid off in one swift motion.
She waited several heartbeats before answering. “I’m not upset. I’m just having a hard time accepting the fact that my baby is old enough to have a live-in girlfriend.”
“It’s just temporary,” I answered weakly.
“I know, dear. I also know that you’re both adults. It just seems a bit seedy that I’m allowing my son to sleep with his girlfriend under my roof,” she huffed out, looking relieved that she was finally able to get it off her chest.
“Would it help if I slept on the couch?” I offered.
“No, dear, that’s not necessary. I keep reminding myself that if Justin were in his own apartment, he would be free to have whomever he wants over.”
“I’m sorry it makes you uncomfortable,” I said sincerely. “I can still rent a room off campus,” I volunteered.
“Honey, that’s not necessary. I’m just acting like an old
fuddy-duddy. Who would have ever thought I’d turn into my mother?” she said, chuckling ruefully. “Just tell me you two are being safe. I’m definitely not ready to be a grandma yet.”
“We are,” I said, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. Safe sex wasn’t high on the list of things I wanted to talk about with a parental figure.
“That’s all I ask,” she said, flashing a genuine smile.
Hollie and Justin entered the kitchen, halting any further sex conversation. Their arms were loaded with clear plastic tubs filled with Christmas decorations. The three of us spent the rest of the day decorating while Trish baked enough cookies to feed an army, filling the house with a sinfully mouthwatering aroma. By the time darkness fell, the house looked like an elf had puked up the North Pole everywhere. Hollie kept up her usual steady stream of chatter, clamming up only when Travis threatened to buy her a muzzle as a Christmas gift.
It was almost midnight before Justin and I finally found ourselves alone in his apartment.
“Alone as last,” he said, sitting on the edge of his bed. He grabbed my hand and maneuvered me until I was standing between his legs. “I’ve been fantasizing about this all day,” he added, deftly unfastening the buttons of my shirt.
“Do tell,” I said, placing my hands on his shoulders since my legs felt unusually weak.
“It’s been a long two weeks. I think we need to move in together before we have to take exams next time,” he said, placing his lips right below my belly button.
“That ought to go over well with your mom,” I murmured,
gripping his shoulders harder as his lips left a fiery trail across my abdomen.
“What do you mean?” he asked as I crawled on top of his lap to straddle him.
“Nothing.” I was pretty sure his mom wanted our earlier conversation to stay between us.
“Just think how nice it would be to do this in between studying,” Justin said, gripping my hips in his hands as he moved against me.
“It would definitely make math just a little easier to digest,” I said. I reached a hand down to stroke him through his jeans.
He moaned loudly, straining against my hand as his lips found mine.
“You’re right. Two weeks is way too long,” I said, pushing his shoulders back until we were both lying on his bed.
“Never again,” he answered, capturing my lips.
“Never,” I agreed as we removed the rest of our clothing. He flipped me over in one fluid movement until I was beneath him. I sighed with pleasure as I felt him seeking the wetness between my legs, bringing our bodies together.
Present Day
3:11
PM
“Hit me.”
“Are you sure?” Justin asked in disbelief.
“Absolutely. Now, hit me,” I demanded.
“It’s your funeral,” he said, raising his hand.
I slammed my eyes shut, unable to look.
“Twenty-three,” he crowed loudly, making me groan with frustration.
Opening my eyes, I looked down at the three cards in front of me with dismay. Damn, he was right.
“You jinxed me,” I complained as he snatched up the peppermint candy I had bet.
“Not everyone can play blackjack like me,” he bragged, scooping up the cards.
“We’ll see about that. Let me deal,” I said, holding my hand out for the deck of cards.
“As long as you promise not to weep as I continue to rack up the wins.”
“I’m surprised this elevator is big enough for your ego,” I observed as he reached over to hand me the cards. My hand grazed his, making my heart stutter. For two years I’d willed myself to forget how his touch felt. I told myself that I’d romanticized it, that all we’d shared was a typical college fling. Now, as I looked down at our hands apprehensively touching, a flood of memories washed over me. There was a time when that same hand had skimmed over my body, cherishing it like a work of art.
I looked at Justin with confusion, wondering why he didn’t pull away. He’d once proclaimed for the world to hear that he would rather cut off his own hand and feed it to an alligator than touch me again. Without looking up, Justin moved his pinkie minutely to stroke mine. I sat without moving a muscle as the forgotten playing cards slowly cascaded from my hand. He laced his fingers through mine, looking as thunderstruck as I felt. My grip instinctively closed around his like a clam claiming a piece of sand.
“How could you do that to us?” Justin asked raggedly, finally meeting my eyes. “Why do I still want you after everything you did?” he added harshly, tightening his grip around my hand until it was almost painful.
I didn’t answer his question. I could not speak for him. I was having a hard enough time sorting through my own feelings.
“Why?” he repeated.
“I don’t know,” I finally answered.
“Neither do I,” he said with disgust. He released my hand abruptly and scooted back to his side of the elevator. I watched with grief as he dropped his face to his hands. We had done this to each other. We took and took until we were stretched so thin that we became brittle and eventually shattered.
New Year’s Eve 2010
“Oh, Brittni, you look beautiful,” Hollie breathed as I put the final touches on my appearance.
“Why thank you, sweets,” I said, giving her a squirt of my favorite perfume.
“I love your dress. The material is so silky smooth.”
“You should. You helped pick it out,” I reminded her.
“I know, but it looks even better fully accessorized,” she said, indicating the matching shoes and my hair, which was styled on top of my head in a mess of curls.
“Justin is going to flip when he sees you,” she added, flopping down on Justin’s bed while I added a few essentials to the small beaded evening bag I’d splurged on.
“He’d better. I spent a month’s salary on this getup,” I joked.
“I wish I could go,” Hollie said wistfully.
“One day soon we’ll take you somewhere special, okay?” I said, giving her a quick hug before joining Justin in his living room.
Justin was in the process of sending a text when I entered the room. I smiled when he looked up and gaped at me. Hollie giggled behind me.
“I think that means he likes it,” she said, skipping toward the stairs. “Have fun,” she called behind her.
“You look amazing,” Justin said, standing up to join me.
“You like?” I pirouetted around so he could get the full effect of the dress.
“Very much. Makes me second-guess my decision to take you out tonight,” he answered, placing his warm lips on mine.
“Too late for that, buddy. This dress cost a small fortune and demands to be seen,” I said, stepping out of his embrace. “Although looking at you should make me rethink that. Girls will be dropping their panties wherever we go tonight when they see you in this suit,” I added, running my hand over the smooth material of his charcoal-colored blazer. I felt no jealousy, though. Somewhere along the way I realized that he wasn’t going anywhere. Truly believing that made all the difference in the world.
“I only want one pair of panties dropped tonight,” he said, tugging me back into his arms for another hard kiss. “Let’s do this before I change my mind.”
“Where are we going?” I asked while Justin helped gather my dress into the jeep.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he answered.
“Yes, I would.”
“Soon,” he answered, pulling out of the driveway.
“Whatever.” I pretended to sulk, even though in reality I was touched he was going to so much trouble to make tonight a surprise. “I can’t believe classes start next week,” I complained.
“At least we still have a week. Besides, before we know it, it’ll be summer break. Did you tell your mom you decided to stay in Seattle for the summer?”
“God no,” I answered evasively, shifting in my seat.
“Chicken?”
“Absolutely. I just need to catch her on a good day.”
“Well, good luck when you finally do it. That’s if you still want to?” he asked, looking uncertain.
“Of course I do. I’m afraid it’s a little fast, and I’m scared about what your mom will think,” I admitted.
“I already told her.”
“You told her?” I asked incredulously. “What did you say? What did she say?” I fired at him in a rush.
“I told her that I asked you to move in with me during the summer. I asked her if that was going to be a problem.”
“What did she say?”
“She said it was my decision to make.”
“She didn’t say it was too soon? That we were making a mistake?” I asked, admitting my own fears.
“I know you think it’s fast, but by summer you’ll feel differently,” he reassured me, patting my leg.
“How can you be so sure?” I asked. I already had butterflies filling my belly and it was months away.
“Because, after the last few weeks together, I know I want that all the time. I like having you with me.”
“What if you get sick of me? What if I get sick of you?”
“Then we’ll cross that bridge if it happens. Have you gotten sick of me these past few weeks?”
“Well, no, but that’s because we’re like in the honeymoon stage,” I answered, regretting my words instantly.
“Honeymoon? Who’s rushing things now?” he teased.
“You know what I mean.”
“Trust me. It’ll be okay,” he said, pulling into a parking garage. “We have to hike a little to get there, but parking near the restaurant is almost nonexistent. This parking garage is as close as we will get.”
“That’s fine,” I answered, looking down at my delicate heels. They looked cute, but walking in them more than a few steps would turn them into medieval torture devices.
Justin offered me his arm as we left the garage and headed across the street.
“You okay?” he asked as I stumbled for the third time in less than two minutes.
“Yeah, except these damn heels hate me,” I said, glaring down at the traitors on my feet.
“Can you make it? The restaurant is less than a block away.”
“Sure. I may have to murder the maker of these shoes, but I’ll make it. As long as you promise to visit me in prison, we’re good to go. Of course, I’m sure some butch chick will make me her bitch within the first day.”
“Homicide of uncomfortable shoemakers is accepted, not that I wouldn’t be interested in seeing you with another girl,” he teased.
“You’re such a guy,” I said, swinging at him with my hand. I almost biffed it for the fourth time. It seemed the heels wouldn’t be satisfied until I was a smear on the pavement.
“Here we are,” he chuckled, stopping in front of the restaurant.
“Pink Door? Oh yeah, I’ve heard of this place.”
“Live music, romance. It’s the perfect destination for a New Year’s Eve date,” he said, guiding me into the restaurant.
We stepped inside and the first thing I saw was a woman swinging from a trapeze hanging from the ceiling. There was light jazz music coming from a band onstage. Taking in my surroundings, I was glad I had gone the extra distance on my appearance. Everyone seemed to be dressed to the nines to celebrate the evening.
Justin approached the hostess, who found our reservation and signaled another girl to show us to our table.
“This is amazing,” I commented, removing my jacket and placing it on the back of my chair.
“A buddy of mine came here a couple months ago for his girlfriend’s birthday. He said the food is really good.”
His friend’s assessment proved to be an understatement.
Every dish that was brought out seemed to top the one before it. The ambiance of the restaurant was just as intoxicating. The interior was cute and chic. I felt like I was in a bistro in Paris or something.
“That was incredible,” I said as we slowly strolled back to the parking garage.
Slow
being the key word since my shoes weren’t done tormenting me. By the time we made it to the jeep, I was cursing my shoes with every step.
Justin was chuckling as he helped tuck me into the jeep before climbing in himself.
“What’s so funny?” I asked, pulling off my shoes to rub my sore feet.
“You. Your temper is downright cute. I’m not even sure a frat boy cusses as much as you just did.”
“Sorry, swearing is my downfall. I try to curb it, but when my body parts are screaming in agony, it gets the best of me.”
“No apologies necessary. I admire the fact that you were able to make it as far as you did,” he said, pulling in front of the art gallery at UW where I had first agreed to go out with him. “We’re here.”
I raised my eyebrows. “You missed school so much you had to return during break?”
“It’s all part of the evening’s festivities,” he said, climbing from the vehicle and coming to my side. “Here, put your arms around my neck.”
Following his orders, I placed my arms around his neck as he swooped me into his arms.
“Wait, you can’t carry me. I’m too heavy,” I protested as he carried me effortlessly to the front of the building.
“Seriously? You weigh nothing,” he said, pulling me tightly against his chest as he unlocked the front door of the building with a set of keys he pulled from his suit pocket. “Now, the wooden planks I use for my artwork, they’re heavy,” he stated, placing me down once we were inside the building.
“Are we going to get in trouble for being in here?” I whispered.
“Mr. Smith knows I’m here. That’s how I got these,” he said, dangling the keys.
“If you say so. I feel I should point out that it would be a huge bummer if I got kicked out of UW and had to return home with my head hung in shame,” I pointed out.
“Never fear, it’s all cool. Trust me.”
“Said the fox to the hen,” I mumbled. I trailed behind him toward the only source of light on the far side of the large room.
He laughed and linked his fingers through mine. We were still ten feet or so away when the painting on the wall came into focus. The familiar face staring back at me stopped me in my tracks. Stepping closer, I studied the painting intently. It was me, but it wasn’t. It was far too beautiful to be me. I mean, I felt I was cute, but never beautiful, not like this. Justin had taken every feature about myself that I saw as a flaw and somehow made them appear beautiful, almost exotic.
“How?” I whispered, tracing a finger over the image as I fought to keep my tears at bay.
“I did the outline the day we went to the aquarium. You were so beautiful seeing the fish for the first time. You took my breath away. I wasn’t sure I would be able to capture it.”
“This is how you saw me?” I whispered.
“This is how I see you. This is how everyone sees you. I’m not sure where this low self-image you have came from, but trust me. You are the only one who sees it,” he clarified, turning me to face him. “I love you, Brittni.”
“What? Wait. You love me?”
“I love you,” he said, crushing his lips to mine. He loved me. He thought I was beautiful. Me. He loved me.
“I love you too,” I said as the truth roared from me like a freight train. I wasn’t sure when it happened, but somewhere along the way he had captured my heart.