There's Wild, Then There's You
Page 17

Even I am surprised by the words that spill out. I’m surprised by the truth in them. “My aversion to weakness. I think that, in and of itself, makes me human. It’s like a phobia almost. I’ve seen it destroy the happy parts of so many of my loved ones that I despise it. I avoid it at all costs. But it’s for that reason that I think weakness is my weakness. Not wanting to feel it. Avoiding it. I’ve always considered it a strength, but I’m beginning to think I’ve hidden from it for so long, looked down on it for so long, that when I come across something that tempts me . . .” I can’t help but think of Jet as I speak. “It will turn my world upside down. And I won’t be prepared for that at all.”
“You mean when you find something else that tempts you.”
It takes me several puzzled seconds to figure out what Jet is referring to. Once again, I’m forced to acknowledge how little he knows of me. And how much of what he thinks he knows is a lie. He’s referring to my supposed sex addiction.
“Right. Something else.”
Even saying the words feels treacherous. Maintaining the lie, even though I’m trying to convince myself it’s for good reason—to help him, to help Tia—still feels . . . wretched.
“Well, if my opinion matters, I don’t see you as weak either. I think you’re probably one of the strongest people I’ve ever known. I guess that’s why I don’t want you thinking that I’m weak. I would hate to disappoint you.”
Jet turns his eyes back to the road. I see his brow wrinkle as though his own words hurt him, a testament to the veracity of them.
“I could never be disappointed in you,” I tell Jet softly.
He doesn’t look at me when he answers. “Don’t be too sure of that.”
Before I can think of the best way to respond, Jet is pulling into the driveway of a nice brick split-level house in an upper-middle-class neighborhood. Although it’s nice—far nicer than the one I grew up in—it’s a ghetto compared to where his father lives now. It’s already easy for me to sympathize with his mother’s bitterness.
Jet cuts the engine and comes around to open my door. He doesn’t hold my hand going up the walk. Not that he’s supposed to. Or that I expected him to. But I am certainly noticing (and missing) that he’s not. It seems he’s held it more often than not lately. Until today.
When we reach the front door, he surprises me by knocking. Within seconds, the door is wrenched open and an exuberant little boy is flinging himself into Jet’s arms.
I watch as Jet gently roughhouses with the boy, flinging him around like a rag doll, something both of them seem to enjoy. Then, with the child squealing and giggling, Jet announces “Back breaker!” and turns the kid belly-up and pretends to bend him over his knee.
Then, breathing heavily, Jet rights him and squats to introduce us. “Todd, this is my friend, Violet.”
Shyly, Todd looks up at me with eyes that are the exact shade as his older brother’s and says a short, “Hi.” And then he disappears back into the house.
When Jet glances over at me, his eyes are shiny and happy. I’m relieved and equally happy when he reaches for my hand and nods toward the door. “Come on. Let’s go get mauled.”
I don’t ask what he means by that. Because I don’t care. I’m game as long as I get to be with Jet.
TWENTY-SIX: Jet
The living room is empty when we walk in, so Violet and I follow Todd to the kitchen. Chad is sitting at the small table that’s pushed into one corner and Mom is standing by the stove, leaning against the counter. Her arms are crossed over her chest defensively and she’s facing the doorway like she was just waiting for me. To pounce.
Her eyes are sparkling and her chin is lifted, which makes me brace for a fight. That’s the look she gets when she’s ready to tear into somebody. Like me.
She straightens, and I think to myself, Here it comes! But then she surprises me. She stops, mouth open like she’s going to speak, but she says nothing when her eyes settle on Violet.
Stunned, she asks in a small voice, “You brought a girl?”
“No, I brought Violet. She’s my friend.”
“Friend, huh?”
It hadn’t occurred to me that she might not want Violet here, but now that I see her, I realize that it was a huge mistake on my part to bring her.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m Violet Wilson. I live on the other side of town. I went to school right here in Greenfield. Graduated a few years after Jet. Now I’m a social worker,” Violet blurts, stepping forward to offer her hand to my mother.
I’m a little shocked by her forwardness. She’s normally so shy, even around me sometimes. Still. But not now. It seems that my mother has brought out the professional side of Violet, a side I’ve never seen before. She appears friendly, down to earth, and competent. Nothing like the women I normally consort with. Not that my mother has met any of them since I was a teenager. But still, she has to know. It’s a small town.
I see the frown flicker between my mother’s eyebrows. “Gail. Gail Blevins. It’s nice to meet you, Violet.”
Violet’s smile is wide and genuine. “You have a beautiful home. And a beautiful family, too,” she says, glancing over at Chad. “You must be Chad.” I watch as she walks over and bends just enough to put her closer to Chad’s level where he’s sitting. She offers her hand to him as well. “I’m Violet.”
Chad gives her a small smile and shakes her hand, but when she walks away, he looks at me and gives me a real smile. Like any other hot-blooded teenage boy would give when a gorgeous woman pays him some attention.
Mom is still frowning as her eyes dart from Chad to Violet to me, then back to Chad. “Homework first, you hear me, young man?”
“I know,” Chad answers, rolling his eyes.
Mom looks to me. “Make sure his homework is done before you leave, Jet.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I know she wants to say more, but she doesn’t want to do it in front of Violet, which is unlike her. Normally she doesn’t hold her tongue in front of anyone.
“I’ll be back by eight at the latest,” she says as she walks past me to grab her purse from the table near the door. I follow her, leaving Violet and the boys in the kitchen.
“Take your time.”
“Don’t you have plans tonight?”
Shit. I hope this doesn’t start a fight.
“I do, but I can have them stall if I need to. I’m here until you get back. Don’t worry.”
She eyes me warily. “I’m trusting you . . .”
“I know, Mom. And I appreciate it. Really. I do.”
“I thought maybe you could come over here and sit with the boys for a while rather than sneaking around to see them at the park.”
Busted!
“You know about that?”
“Of course I know about that.” I brace for what I thought was coming the second I walked in. But it still doesn’t come, which surprises the shit out of me. “Let’s try it this way and see how it goes.”
“I won’t disappoint you. I promise.”
She grunts, glancing over my shoulder toward the kitchen. “I like her. Where’d you find her?”
“At the very bottom, Mom,” I tell her meaningfully.
Her eyes lock on mine and I see her looking for more. But she doesn’t find it. She finds the truth. Because it is the truth. I don’t think I realized how low I’d gotten until this very minute. How low I’d gotten until I found Violet.
“See that you stay on top then, son.”
“I’m trying.”
With a ghost of a smile, Mom pats my arm and grabs her car keys.
“You boys be good. I’ll be back soon,” she calls, looking over my shoulder at my brothers, and then she’s gone.
TWENTY-SEVEN: Violet
Watching Jet with his brothers is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. I’ve never felt so overcome with so many emotions. It’s like seeing a totally different side of Jet. It’s a side I like very much. And I didn’t need anything else to like about him.
I played chess with Todd while Jet helped Chad with his algebra homework. Just listening to them, it was easy to ascertain that Jet is very intelligent. Even the way he explained it to his brother was brilliant.
After they finished, Jet made popcorn with the intention of the four of us watching a movie, but the boys then insisted on a wrestling match. Everyone had to wrestle each other at least once. The two who won the most matches would then have a face-off for the illustrious title of winner.
I was skeptical at first, but it didn’t take me long to see the fun in it, especially when it came time for me to wrestle Jet.
As all previous matches had, we started the bout on our knees, facing one another. Jet had a sexy, playful curve to his lips and a gleam in his eye that made my stomach flutter.
“You’d better not hurt me,” I said, trying not to grin as I edge away from him.
“I promise not to do anything you won’t like,” he replied suggestively, one brow rising the tiniest bit.
And then he lunged for me. With a squeal, I tried to get away, but he was far too big, too strong and too long of limb. Within a few seconds, he had me half on my side, half on my belly, and he was stretched out on top of me, holding me down.
“Oh, wait! My hip,” I complained primly. Immediately, Jet rolled slightly, moving most of his weight off me. I took advantage of his momentary lapse and levered myself up onto my elbows and rolled over on top of him instead.
I pinned his arms above his head and leaned down into his face. “Hah! Gotcha.”
Jet was looking up at me, his eyes as intense as I’d ever seen them, and he murmured, “Maybe you do.”
His voice was low and silky. His belly was hard and warm. My heart leapt, my stomach clenched, and every place his body touched mine went up in flames.
But then, so fast I could barely react, he flipped me over to pin me beneath him. His body was stretched full length along mine. I could feel every prominence and hollow. And, like I had done to him, he held my arms above my head, leaving me helpless against him.
“Or maybe I’ve got you.”
For a moment, I’d forgotten we weren’t alone. All I could think about was how much I wanted Jet to kiss me, how much I wanted him to run his hands down my arms, down my sides. How much I wanted him to touch me everywhere, all at once.
But then his rambunctious brother interrupted, reminding me that we did, in fact, have an audience.
“Get a room,” Chad snickered.
With his eyes fixed on mine, Jet bent his head forward just enough to bite my chin. I felt the brush of his tongue for just a second before he leaned away and then rolled off me.
He didn’t take his eyes off me, though. And I could see that he was as . . . bothered by the encounter as I was. And that it was a good thing we weren’t alone.
We finally settled down to at least start the movie before Jet’s mom got home, but even that did nothing to alleviate the tension between us. Every second that his side is pressed against mine on the sofa feels like a special kind of torture. I’ve ached the entire twenty-two minutes that I’ve been feigning interest in the show.
I’m both relieved and nervous when I hear the door open. All heads turn to find Gail dragging some bags through the door. The boys get up and run to see what she’s got.
“Ah, ah, ah! You just stay right there. This is birthday stuff. Nothing you need to be nosing around in,” she declares, holding the bags behind her and out of sight.
“Aw, Mom,” Todd says, but it’s easy to see that they’re both pleased and excited about whatever she bought.
Gail directs her next words to Jet. “Let me get these put away and you two can go.”
Jet stands, holding out his hand for me. I slide my fingers across his palm and he squeezes them, pulling me to my feet. When I stand, he doesn’t back away. He just stares down into my face, his body so close I can still feel the heat of it.
“Since we’re only playing Lucky’s tonight, do you want to just ride over with me?”
Lucky’s is a local bar, one of the only places the younger crowd can go. I know about it, even though I’ve never been. The party atmosphere was never my scene, for obvious reasons.
“Ummm, am I dressed okay? I mean, I didn’t—”
“You look mouthwatering. You don’t need to change anything,” he replies softly.
I feel the flush of pleasure rise from my belly to my chest and into my face. “Then yes, I’ll just ride with you. If you don’t mind taking me home afterward.”
Jet’s thumb is rubbing slowly back and forth over the top of my hand. “I don’t mind at all.”
Gail comes back out and walks to the couch, grabbing a few remaining popcorn kernels. “Thanks for coming. I appreciate you two.”
Jet nods. “Anytime. I’m glad you called.”
I watch the uncomfortable interaction, wishing I could just melt away and leave them alone in the moment. It seems there is so much more being said between them than just words.
“You still writing?” she asks, making her way slowly to the door.
“Hadn’t been until the last little while. I think it’s coming back, though.”
Gail’s eyes flicker to me and then quickly move away. She nods. “Good. Don’t give up on that. It’ll make all this band nonsense worth it if you make it.”
I’m sure Jet would like to comment, but he does the right thing and just lets it ride. No reason to leave on a bad note or being argumentative.