Victoria's Got a Secret (2 page)

Jennifer knew the story. He’d had a steady girlfriend with cystic fibrosis who died the year before. Jennifer didn’t ask if he loved Marie because Jennifer wasn’t sure she wanted to hear him say it. But knowing he could feel something deep like that convinced her that, living in a basement or not, she was right where she wanted to be.

His smile came out of nowhere this time. “Your sister told me about you.”

Heather had filled Jennifer in on that part. Heather was three years older and ridiculously protective of her clothes and had all kinds of rules about Jennifer not wearing them, but they got along. Heather answered the big questions about boys and make-up.

And she’d mentioned Paul. Jennifer just realized that while Heather was talking about him, she might also be filling him in on Jennifer. It was a scary thought, especially since there hadn’t been many details on Paul but Heather had way too much ammo on Jennifer.

“What did she say?” she asked.

“Have I got a girl for you.”

She missed something.
Jennifer put down the photo of him with a group of boys she recognized but couldn’t name and focused on the conversation. “What?”

“That’s what Heather said.”

“A girl.”

“Yeah.”

“She was talking about me?”

He moved closer, pushing in close and stopping only when Jennifer’s hands brushed against his chest. “Is there a third sister I don’t know about?”

Jennifer had never heard him laugh before and it sent her heart tumbling to her feet. “No.”

“I like your shirt.” He ran his fingers over the ruffle.

Her breath caught. “Why?”

“Because it’s pretty . . . like you.”

His eyes went to the clock on the wall. “It’s almost midnight.”

She started the mental countdown. New Year’s, it was the perfect time for him to kiss her, and she prayed he would. As the seconds ticked by, a voice in her head screamed for him to do something.

She followed the second hand until it hit twelve. “And now that it’s midnight . . .?”

He didn’t move, but his sweet smile turned to something else. “Happy New Year’s.”

She tried to say it back to him, but the words stuck in her throat.

His palms cupped her cheeks.

His warm lips touched against hers, soft and not completely sure. They pressed once and then parted. His eyes opened and he stared down at her.

“Can we do that again?” she whispered the question before she could stop the words from coming out.

“As much as you want.”

Her heartbeat hammered in her ears as he lowered his head again and his breath blew across her cheek. “Really?”

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Really.”

Then his mouth was on hers and she forgot about everything else. Her fingers played with the soft hair at the base of his neck. Her breath caught while her body tingled.

Wrapped in his arms, listening to the mix of synthesizer and guitar in the background while his lips moved over hers, she felt free. Her body melted against his and her mind want blank. She wanted only this. The comfort and warmth, the sense of security and acceptance.

She’d known even then this make-out session was just the start, that they’d continue to date and get to know each other. She wasn’t too young or confused. This meant something. It was special.

“Paul.” Jennifer shoved against his shoulder and struggled to sit up. Being pinned to the backseat of his car with a seatbelt digging into her hip and her skirt shoved up high on her thighs wasn’t the problem. She was where she wanted to be. Heck, she picked the location for their kissing session.

What happened if this went one step farther was the issue. The word irreversible floated through her mind.

His mouth sucked on that sweet spot right behind her ear that made her shiver. “You are so beautiful.”

She knew she could say the word and he’d stop, but how in the world was she supposed to slam on the brakes to the petting when he kissed her like that? He knew where to touch her.

Then his hand slipped lower and her common sense came rushing back in a flash. She didn’t know much about boys, but she guessed they had about five seconds until they strayed into danger territory. “Paul.”

“What?” He lifted his head. His eyes were glazed with passion and his finger brushed close to the very center of her.

She almost laughed. Would have if he didn’t look so serious and she wasn’t right on the verge of giving in. “We talked about this.”

He balanced over her on one elbow as his chest rose and fell. “Uh-huh.”

“We agreed.”

He nodded. “I said I’d wait for you.”

“Exactly.”

“Right.” He blew out a long exhale and dropped his head for a second. His hair tickled her cheek and hot breaths brushed across her skin. “Any idea when that time is going to be?”

She slipped her fingers through his hair as she smiled at his joke. “It’s too soon.”

“I understand you’re worried, but you do know going all the way won’t change anything. I’m not going to stop you from doing new things.”

“Not on purpose.”

His head flew up and his body stiffened. It was as if every muscle screeched to a halt as the frown spread across his mouth. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not ready.” She blurted it out and skipped over the other part, the bigger part. The part where he hid stuff from her.

He’d disappear for a day or two and not get in touch with her. He had started hanging out with two guys who made her nervous. She’d heard the rumors about them. That they’d stopped going to school and hung out on the streets all day. The idea of Paul with them made her sick . . . and scared.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

His smile seemed forced, but he shot her one. “Hey, don’t apologize. I want you to be able to tell me anything. Even things like this that I don’t like hearing all that much.”

But he wouldn’t do the same for her. Sometimes she’d ask questions she knew the answers to, like where he was on a Friday night, and he wouldn’t tell the truth. He kept pretending, and it drove her nuts, made her want to challenge him even more.

“Okay,” she said because she didn’t know what else to say.

A smile eased across his lips into something more genuine. “I can wait. You’re worth the sacrifice.”

She wasn’t buying the complete innocent act. If he could find a way in . . . he would. “And you’re happy as long as we get to do other stuff.”

“Well, yeah. I’m not dead.” He kissed her then, his mouth moving over hers as his body pressed her deeper into the cushions.

When he finally lifted his head, her lips felt swollen and her head spun with a churning excitement that hit her every time she went into his arms.

“I won’t rush you,” he said.

But would he ever tell her the truth? “I know.”

His hand hovered right above her breast. “But I will keep trying to change your mind.”

“How will you do that?”

He brushed his mouth over hers. “Well, let me show you.”

They repeated the scene several times by the end of the school year and most of the next. Paul would try to push the line and she would hold firm at the last possible second. Barely.

She had turned sixteen, but they had been inseparable since that first kiss. But it still wasn’t enough.

“I like him.” Jennifer’s grandmother threw out her opinion one afternoon as she watched Paul fix a loose fence post in Jennifer’s backyard.

The Duchess and Jennifer sat on the back porch, lemonade in hand, and watched Paul work. Jennifer smiled as warm sun hit her face. “Me too.”

“He’ll take some work.”

The Duchess often said stuff like that. She’d give an opinion no one asked for and then argue her point to death. Never mind if she was the only one arguing. She was a strong presence. The person who taught Jennifer to do everything from write poetry to drink wine. The Duchess viewed life as a never-ending adventure.

“Paul is pretty easygoing,” Jennifer said.

The Duchess’s eyebrow lifted. “No.”

The knowing look sent a ball of nerves bouncing around inside of Jennifer. It was as if her grandmother could glance inside and see the truth. “What?”

“That’s not what you like about him.”

“Of course it is.” Jennifer put her best force behind the words even as she stumbled over the last one.

“You like his darkness. The mystery intrigues you.” The Duchess nodded her head as her gaze stayed on Paul. “I don’t know a woman alive who can resist a bad boy.”

“Grandma!”

The older woman waved her off. “Accept it now.”

“He’s not bad,” Jennifer insisted.

“What is he?”

Jennifer didn’t have to search for the word. She’d already figured that much out. “Complicated.”

“Exactly.” The Duchess nodded. “That’s another word for dark, my dear.”

The Duchess’s words ran through Jennifer’s head a month later, but she pushed them aside. Maybe Paul didn’t share
everything
, but he was good to her. Understood her. When she talked about all she wanted to do in the world and how she had to leave home to do it, he played along.

“We should pick a time in the future for us to get everything done and then get back together.” Jennifer delivered her suggestion as she munched on a handful of chips. “You know, when we’re old.”

His knees pressed against hers where they sat next to each other on the steps outside her father’s office. “Give me a number.”

“Thirty.”

He peeked into the near empty bag before scooping out some crumbs. “That’s a long time from now.”

“You need to play your music and get the band started, then tour.” She ticked off his dreams because she knew them as well as her own.

“True.”

“I want to travel and learn everything I can.”

“About what?”

She shrugged. “I’m not sure yet.”

“Okay. So we agree on thirty.”

She loved that he didn’t get all twitchy when she talked about the future. She assumed they’d stay in touch, and so did he. There was a strange comfort in that.

“But we’ll be together between now and then,” she said.

“Of course.”

She brushed the chip dust off on her skirt and handed him the bag. “Here.”

“What’s this for?”

“We’ll keep this until that day.”

He leaned over and treated her to a quick kiss on the lips. “Deal.” “Deal.”

Two

There’s a reason your first love is called
your first and not your only.

—Grandma Gladys, The Duchess

P
AUL
COULDN’T
TAKE ONE MORE SECOND OF HER
cross-examination. All he wanted to do was walk her home. The whole ten-thousand-questions, give-me-your-life-story thing was pissing him off. They’d been dating for two years. She should be over this by now.

“Paul?”

He stopped in the middle of the abandoned railroad tracks that ran behind her house and stared at her. They were so close to the yard. So close to her family’s kitchen, where they could sit and get something to drink and he wouldn’t have to dodge
the talk
.

When she started talking again, he lost it. “Enough.”

Jennifer’s head snapped back as if he’d slapped her. “What?”

“We’ve been walking for ten minutes and you haven’t stopped screaming at me since.” By the way her mouth dropped opened he guessed he’d insulted her. “A guy can only take so much.”

He said the last part in a softer tone. He knew from experience getting angry only tipped off her temper. Then they’d fight and break up for a few days. They did it many times, and it ticked him off each one. She’d turn cold and distant, and he’d be the one left out until she agreed to talk to him again. Eventually, they’d get back together, but the cycle got old fast.

He rushed to calm her down. “Can’t we just walk?”

She pulled her hand away when he tried to hold it. “How can you say I screamed? I didn’t even raise my voice at you.”

“That’s not the point.”

She folded her arms across her chest and gave him that look he hated. The one that reminded him of a scolding teacher. “Where were you today?” she asked.

“Around.”

“Not at school.”

Looked like she wasn’t going to let up, but since he hated all the questions he wasn’t going to make it easy for her. “No.”

“Why?”

His mind shut off. He tried to come up with an excuse, but nothing popped into his head. His defenses shot up right after. “I didn’t feel like it.”

“What kind of answer is that?”

“You sound like your father.”

“Paul.”

“Look, I work. I’ve always worked. You know that.” She didn’t know the rest. About why or how much.

“What about school?”

“I prefer work.” Even that was a little lie. He worked because he had to and hadn’t been enrolled in school all year. He hung around because of her. To see her. To be with her.

“What aren’t you sharing?”

“Nothing.”

She looked about two seconds away from stomping her foot. “Paul!”

“You and your stupid sharing thing.” He mumbled the words under his breath but knew she’d heard him when her eyes grew wide. “Look, it’s not that easy.”