Right Place, Right Time (Second Chances Book 2) (6 page)

Kate

“Kate?”

“What’s up, Case?” I step into the back hallway of the restaurant to take the call because I can’t hear well with the din of the activity in the service area.

“My dad is in the hospital. I’m driving home.”

Panic grips me. I love Mr. Evans. Casey’s dad is one of the sweetest, kindest men I’ve ever met. He’s what I’d always hoped my own father would be like. I’d bonded with Casey’s parents over the years when they’d come to visit Case and when they’d secretly call me to check on her and make sure she wasn’t pushing herself to hard.

“What’s wrong? Is he okay? Do you need me to come home? I’ll go with you.”

“No! No…it’s okay. I’ll be okay.” But I can tell by her voice that she’s not okay and that she won’t
be
okay. Casey cherishes her parents.

“Case, I don’t want you driving clear across the country by yourself.” I’m already grabbing my bag from the staff room and making my way to the back office. Seth, the manager, will just have to deal with it or fire me. It’s not like I
need
the money the job brings me. I just wanted something that was mine. Something I’d earned myself, not having to rely solely on my parents’ money.

“I can’t exactly fly, Kate.”

“I know, sweetie. Listen, I’m leaving work now, and I’ll ride with you.”

“I’ve already left.”

I stop in my tracks. “Casey!”

“You can’t afford to take time off school right now, Kate. I know how busy you’ve been, and you’ve still got more exams. I knew if I stuck around, you’d try to come with me. I’ll be okay. I’ll break the trip up. I’ll eat well. I promise. I just need to get home to see my dad, and I’ll be okay. Everything will be okay.” I’m not sure who she’s trying to convince—me or herself.

I sag against the wall. My roommate and best friend is
the
most stubborn person on the planet. I can’t even believe she’s done this. Actually, yes I can. Because she’s stubborn! Ugh. Her mother would be furious with me for letting her go alone.

“Casey, you know I don’t like this,” I tell her, rubbing my temples with my free hand.

“I know, Mom.”

I give a small laugh. “Be careful. Call me every hour until you get there, and call me every time you stop. Call me before you go to bed at night and when you wake up. Text me the motel information when you stop. I swear I hate that you’re traveling across the country by yourself. This is not smart.”

“Now you really sound like my mom.”

“Hush. Seriously though, call me or text me or something. I’m gonna be worried sick about you until I hear from you. But don’t text me while you’re driving. Dammit, your car doesn’t have Bluetooth. Do you have your headset? I need you to check in, but I don’t want you to be distracted, and I don’t want you to have to constantly stop to check in because that’s not safe either. Shit, Casey. This is so
not
okay.”

“Take a breath, Kate,” she laughs. “I will check in with you. I have my headset, it’s how I’m talking to you now.”

“Okay,” I sigh, resigned to the fact that my roommate is traveling cross country solo. “Be careful, please.”

“I will, I promise.”

“I love you.”

“Love you, too. Get back to work and stop freaking out. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. I’m sorry about your dad, Case,” I add quietly.

I hear her sniffle before she responds. “I know, thanks.”

We say goodbye, and I return to the staff room to put away the things I’d grabbed. I can’t believe she’s doing this. I look at the time on my phone. At eight o’clock at night, no less. I know how much she loves her dad, though, so I guess I’m not entirely surprised. I just wish she would have let me be there for her. She hasn’t been home to South Carolina in years—a little bit because of a boy and a lot because of her health issues. Yes, she’s from South Carolina, too, but she grew up in Charleston while I grew up in Columbia. It’s kind of funny how we were placed together at Stanford, all things considered.

Distracted, I return to work. For the next four hours of my shift, I can’t stop thinking about Casey and her dad. I hope Mr. Evans is okay. Casey never did say what was wrong. I don’t even know how bad it is. I get one text just before midnight that she’s stopping for gas and snacks near Bakersfield, I write back that she’d better stop for the night while she’s at it. She sends me back an emoticon that’s rolling its eyes, and I shake my head. She’s going to push herself until she drops.

I finish my closing duties, and still distracted, make my way out to the parking lot and my car. The sound of a male voice in the darkness saying my name causes me to scream and drop my keys.

“Jesus, Kate. It’s me,” Jay says, stepping under the glow of a streetlamp. I’m breathing heavy with my hand on my chest as he approaches me. “Hey…what’s wrong, Sunshine?” It’s not until his thumb swipes my cheek and comes off wet that I realize I’m crying. Which, of course, causes me to cry harder. “Damn,” he says, pulling me into his chest. He makes soothing sounds as he rubs my back.

“You didn’t call,” I say after a while of him holding me. It’s been two weeks since our amazing kiss in the parking lot. I hadn’t even known if he was still in the state. And now he’s here. Holding me.

“I wasn’t over myself,” he says, and I laugh. I slap his chest, and he pulls away from me, tipping my chin up. “What’s this all about? I know you’re not this upset over me not calling.”

I step away from him and shake my head. “No. My roommate’s dad is in the hospital. She left tonight to drive home to Charleston to be with him. I’m worried about her being on the road by herself, and I’m worried about him. She never said what was wrong so I don’t know how bad it is. I’m just overwhelmed, I guess.”

“Why didn’t she fly home?” he asks, apparently addressing the easiest part of that first.

“She has health issues so she can’t fly. I told her I’d go with her, but by the time she called me, she’d already left,” I tell him, getting frustrated with Casey all over again. “I’m sorry, you’re not here to listen to me vent. What’s up?”

“Don’t apologize. I just wanted to see you.”

“Oh…that again, huh?” I roll my eyes and bend to pick up my keys from the ground. “Well, you’ve seen me,” I say once I’m upright, then I turn away from him and walk to my car. I’m not playing games with him. If he wants to see me…to talk to me…to do whatever with me…he needs to get his head out of his ass. I’m not interested in being tossed around like a yo-yo and listening to his self-deprecating monologue. Either he’s in or he’s out.

“I’ve missed you.” He says it so quietly that I could pretend I hadn’t heard it if I wanted to…

But I stop walking and turn to face him again. It’s dark, and he’s no longer standing under the streetlight, so I can’t make out his expression, but his stance reminds me of the vulnerable posture he’d had that first night in the restaurant. He’d looked defeated then, and he seems defeated now.

“Yeah? Well, what are you gonna do about it?”

Jay

That’s a loaded question.

There are two ways to address this. The way I’d like to…by tossing her hot little sassy ass in the back of her car and letting out years of pent up frustration. Or the way I should…by spending some good, honest time getting to know her again. Yeah, I know that contradicts everything I’ve been saying to this point. Truth is, I know she’s too good for me and I know I’m bad for her, but I’ve spent the last two weeks trying to stay away from her, and I just can’t get her out of my head. She’s all I think about. She’s been all I thought about for a while now. The only light in my dark days.
My
sunshine.

That’s right.
Mine.

I know I’m bad news, and this will probably end up blowing up in our faces, but I can’t help it. I need this girl in my life like I need air to breathe. I’ll take as much or as little as I can get.

“I was wondering if you might want to go to lunch again or something?”

“Or something?” she asks, raising an eyebrow and taking a step towards me.

“Yeah,” I shrug, walking towards her. “We could go for a movie or have dinner instead.”

“What about breakfast?” she asks, the corners of her mouth tilting up in a flirty smile as she comes to a stop in front of me. She runs one of her dainty little fingers, the nail polished in a pale pink, from the scar on my left cheek, down my neck, and straight down my chest, stopping at the waistband of my jeans.

“I like breakfast,” I croak. She makes me feel like a teenage virgin. Hell, with how little activity I’ve had, I might as well be. All the times I’ve imagined Kate over the years—sweet, innocent Kate—I’d never once painted her as a little seductress. I grab her hand before she decides to go any lower and choose my first option of dragging her to her car.

“You’re no fun,” she pouts.

“You’re…different,” I say, still holding her hand.

“How so?” she cocks her head to the side.

I shrug, not knowing how to explain it in a way that won’t offend her. I don’t know much about females, but I do know that it’s important to tread carefully.

“I’m not a teenage girl anymore, Jay. I’ve practically been on my own for three years now. Of course I’m different. Maybe if you’d bothered to keep in touch, you’d know that.”

Ouch, that hurt.
Not that I don’t deserve her attitude, of course. Because I most certainly do after the way I’d treated her.

And she’s right, she’s definitely
not
a teenage girl anymore. That’s for damn sure. The fact that she’s been on her own makes my blood boil. Her parents are some class act for abandoning their only daughter.

You’re a class act for abandoning her, too, Spencer.
Touché, self, touché.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

She shrugs in response, brushing off this apology in the same way she’s done every other one I’ve offered. What makes me crazy is that her disregarding my apology isn’t because she doesn’t accept it…it’s because she really doesn’t seem to hold any grudge against me at all for blowing her off back then. The girl is a saint.

“So…my roommate’s out of town. We can go back to my place and watch a movie or something?” She bites the corner of her lip and shifts from one foot to another. I can tell she’s nervous, and for some reason this reaction feels more genuine—more Kate—than how forward she was being a moment ago.

“Or something?” I wink and she blushes in response, looking down at her shoes. “Movie, it is,” I tell her, and she looks up and smiles.

“I’ll see you there,” she says, then she turns and walks across the lot to her car. I get on my bike and wait until she’s in her car and pulling out before following her out into the street. Five is a swanky place in a nice area, but the neighborhoods Kate has to drive through to get home are a little shady. I don’t like the idea of her driving through them at midnight—or later—even though I know she’s been doing it a while now.

Even more reason for her to
never
visit my place. Ever.

***

I feel like a high school kid on a first date. No, not even
on
the date yet…picking the girl up for the date. I can almost imagine an imposing father-figure standing before me, staring down at me as I sit on the couch with my back straight as a rod. My boot clad feet are flat on the floor, my knees—bent at a perfect ninety degree angle—are pressed together, and my hands are folded neatly in my lap. I’m not even leaning against the back of the couch. I think I might be sweating, and I definitely feel clammy.

Kate’s in the shower. Sitting stock still on the couch is the only thing keeping me from busting down the bathroom door to see what’s on the other side. It’s been so long since I’ve been with a woman, and I’ve never been with one that looks like Kate. I’d messed around with my share of girls in high school and the year or so after graduation. But that’s just it…they were all girls. Kate is a woman. A
young
woman, but still a woman. She’s twenty-one now, I’m twenty-four. Age-wise, we’re perfect. It’s everything else that doesn’t line up.

I’m a mechanic…she’s a med student.

I’m poor…she’s rich

I’m going nowhere…and she has so much potential.

My pity train is derailed by the sound of the bathroom door opening. I immediately smell the fruity scent of her soap in the humid air that escapes. It smells good.

“Sorry I took so long,” she says as she walks towards the living room, still drying her wet hair with a towel. When she walks out from behind the couch, my jaw drops at the sight of her pajamas.
Is she trying to kill me?
She’s wearing tiny blue shorts with a matching tank top that has glittery shit on it. But let’s talk about what she’s
not
wearing for a moment, shall we? A bra. And judging by the lack of panty lines on her ass as she bends over to look at the shelf near the TV, she’s not wearing panties either. “It just feels so good to take a long, hot shower after being on my feet for so long.”

Oh, right. She had been saying something when I zoned out on her curves. “It’s okay,” I tell her, focusing on the first thing she’d said. My freaking voice squeaks just like it did when I’d hit puberty a dozen years ago. I clear my throat. “Nice place.” She pauses in her perusal of the shelves and looks over her shoulder at me. The little minx knows exactly what she’s doing. I can tell by the tiny smirk on her face.

“Thanks,” she says, then looks back at the shelf. “My parents paid for everything, but Casey and I picked it all out and set it up ourselves. Ah-ha!” she plucks a case off the shelf and squats down to place the disc in the player.
Lord, have mercy.
She has the sexiest little ass I’ve ever seen, and I can see a lot of it right about now.

I clench my hands into fists and shift slightly to relieve the sudden tension in my pants. A tension that’s intensified when she flops down on the couch—
right next to me
—and tucks her legs beneath her body. She’s just a hairsbreadth away and I can feel the rise and fall of her chest as she breathes. In and out. Up and down. In and out. Up and down.

Thought process not helping!

The opening credits of the movie start. I completely missed the menu screen telling me what we’re watching since I’d been stuck in my own private little hell in my head.

Don’t look at her breasts.

But they’re right there, ever so slightly brushing against my arm. Suddenly, the popular soundtrack of the movie infiltrates my senses, and my eyes dart from her…sparkly shirt…to the television.

“
Halloween?
” I ask her, surprised at her movie selection.

She nods happily, her eyes glued to the screen. “One of my most favorite movies ever.”

I smile. My kind of girl. I love a good, old-school horror flick. I never could get into the newer ones that are all about gore and torture and violence. I’ve seen that kind of shit up close, and there’s nothing entertaining about it. Old-school horror movies leave a lot more to the viewers’ imaginations. Nothing like scaring the crap out of yourself.

“Oooh!” She pops up off the couch and runs off to the kitchen. “I forgot the popcorn.”

“Want me to pause the movie?”

“Nope, I’ve seen it a thousand times. I’ll be right there.” I hear the crinkle of a wrapper and the microwave open and close, then the beep of the buttons. “What would you like to drink?” she calls out to me.

“What do you have?” I ask.

“Wine, beer, water, soda.”

“Beer’s good,” I tell her. I can have one now, and it should be out of my system when the movie is over, and I’m ready to ride home in a couple hours.

Another minute or so later, and the microwave beeps. The jack-o-lantern only just left the screen, so she hasn’t missed much of the movie. She rustles around in the kitchen some more before finally appearing holding two beer bottles by their necks in one hand and a huge bowl of popcorn in the other. She’s obviously got this under control, but I feel like an ass for not getting up and helping her.

I start to rise to help her carry something, but she waves me off. “I’m a waitress, remember?”

“I’m sorry; I should’ve helped.”

“It’s no biggie. Sit.”

I sit back down and take the offered beer. She cuts off the light and sits next to me again, this time pulling a blanket off the back of the couch and resting it over her lap, before reaching forward and grabbing her beer and the popcorn.

Good. At least with that blanket over her, some of that soft, smooth skin will be covered up and I’ll be less tempted to push her down onto the sofa, climb on top of her, and make her mine.

Less
being the key word.