"Oh shit!" escapes Jay's lips the moment we lay eyes on three grown-men standing in his foyer and brushing snow off their coats. Two of them are considerably younger than the third who dons a balding head and gray hair.
It's then do I realize that I've seen that balding head before.
"It's my dad," Jay hisses. His hand tenses in mine, and I watch as he clenches his jaw. His breathing becomes labored; his chest rising and falling in slow succession.
When his dad spots us standing out in the open, he grows a frown and scrunches his brows together. Clearly, he's not very happy to find his eighteen year-old son and his girlfriend alone together in his house. And after Jay sneaking home to see me, I can understand why he would be pissed. "Jay Kennedy Keely, what is going on?"
I never knew his middle name was Kennedy. I would bet money on the fact he's named after the famous Kennedy family, because his family clearly enjoys the whole naming your kid after famous people since his first name is derived from that of Jay Leno.
"Um..uh..." Jay tries to speak, but he can't seem to form a coherent thought to save his life. And maybe it's because I love him, okay, it's totally because I love him, do I decide to help him out with the whole forming words thing.
"Senator Keely," I begin. "I...I was helping Jay pick out some clothes for the dance on Saturday."
He peers at me through squinted eyes, attempting to figure out who I am and why I'm in his house. "And who, exactly, are you?"
"I'm...I'm Sarah, Jay's girlfriend."
Senator Keely crosses his arms over his chest and does something that frightens me more than eases my worries; he grins. "God, I wish your mother was here to see this."
Jay and I glance confusedly at each other. "Why?" Jay timidly asks.
"To see that you are capable of sticking to one girl," Senator Keely sneers. "She always said she didn't think you had monogamy in your blood."
When I glimpse at Jay, he doesn't meet my eyes. His neck turns red, starting to spread to his cheeks, and his palm in mine becomes awfully clammy. The verbal beratement he's receiving from his father is having quite the effect on him.
On a roll, Senator Keely continues, "What I wouldn't pay to spring her from rehab and watch her face right now. Oh my, I'm being so rude; Sarah, dear, tell me about yourself. Most girls Jay brings home never introduce themselves. They just do their walk of shame and leave."
Grinding my teeth together, I bite down on my tongue, hard, because I know if I say what I'm thinking, those bodyguards of his will tackle me down these stairs and charge me with threatening him with his life. Would it be worth it to do that? Hell yes.
I look to Jay, but he's about as helpful as a infant with all of his hand-clutching and silence. Fed up with his frozenness, I drop his hand and address Senator Keely myself. "Sarah O'Henry, sir, and it's a pleasure to meet you," I play his game with an amused smirk on my face. "I'm a junior in high school, seventeen. I'm not sure if you remember Tony O'Henry, the football team's quarterback, but he's my brother, sir."
He looks taken aback as I actually speak to him. What? Has no one ever spoken directly to him before? Is everyone actually afraid and intimidated by this snake? Granted, his words have a certain poisonous quality to them, but that's about it. All he is is a sharp-tongued, balding U.S. Senator.
Once he's regained his composure, which is a snide look on his face coupled with him standing at his full stature, he looks at me and says, "Football, huh? Yes, I think I remember him. Wonderful talent the boy has. Where's he going to college, sweetheart?"
Sweetheart? Ew. He's like sixty. I shake off the term of endearment meant to throw me off my game and answer him, "Notre Dame, sir. They recruited him last year."
"As a junior? Impressive," he folds his arms across his chest. "Is that how you met Jay? Through your brother?"
I glance at Jay, still of no use. The redness has at least started to fade away, but his frozenness remains. I roll my eyes at him before turning back to his father. "Actually, yes. You see, I make a lasagna dinner every Tuesday, and my brother generally tends to bring home some of his teammates, and he just happened to bring Jay home one day. Your son helped me do dishes, so someone must have taught him some good manners."
I mean the last part to be a dig at Senator Keely's parenting, and it lands and hits him, seemingly, right where I intended. He frowns for just a second but recovers quickly, knowing full well that I just hit him below the belt. By this time, he's figured out I'm not another one of Jay's flings who takes whatever insults he hurls at them; I'm here to fight. Laying down and letting people walk all over you is not a good way to live your life.
"Yes, someone along the way must've," he grumbles, "So, this lasagna dinner? You make it all yourself? What about your mother?"
Whether he knows it or not, he just hit a very sensitive spot, the only weakness in my armor. Damn it. My breathing starts to increase, and I'm positive it's noticiable. At least I'm all the way up here on these stairs where he can't see me sweating.
Jay, on the other hand, sees me sinking and finally snaps out of his haze. Taking action, he grabs my hand with a firm reassurance and begins to lead me down the stairs.
Senator Keely gives us both a peculiar look before he says, "Where are you kids going? Off to have sex somewhere other than my house?"
God, he's an ass.
At the bottom of the stairs, when we're just feet from Jay's father, Jay grows a pair and decides to stand up to his father once and for all. "Actually, yes. That's exactly what we're going to do because your house is the most fucking depressing place on the planet."
"Don't be a Whiny Rich Boy," his father sneers.
"I wouldn't be a Whiny Rich Boy had you never decided to run for office all those years ago and basically abandon me so you could pursue your dream of being a typical, sixty-year-old, white, male United States Senator," Jay spews, "Had I actually had a father, and a mother because she's just as bad as you are, maybe I wouldn't be a Whiny Rich Boy. Maybe I'd just be a Typical, Hormonal Teenager."
"You can't blame your behavior on me, Jay. That's the way a child acts, and you're eighteen, a legal adult."
Jay drops my hand suddenly to throw his hands up in frustration. I take a step back from the two of them just in case it gets physical. I don't think I'm equipped to handle a physical altercation. I've handled squirmishes between the twins before, but never between two mostly-grown men.
"God, Dad, I know I'm an adult, but I'm still, by all definitions of the phrase, your kid." Jay exclaims. "You just don't understand what I'm trying to say because you're stuck in your own little world where only you exist."
"What are you trying to say?"
"That you weren't around when I was growing up!" Jay yells. His voice echoes throughout the wide-open space. "That's why I am the way I am! You, or anyone really, weren't there to tell me right from wrong. Nobody laid a single ground rule, or any rules for that matter-"
"Now, I know that's not true," his father shoots back. "Your mother parented you normally."
"Maybe when she wasn't hopped up on pills and booze."
His father narrows his eyes at him, and I watch as his fists clench. Uh oh. That's not a good sign at all. "Don't talk about your mother like that."
"Well, Dad, it's the truth. I've never had a curfew, never had rules against girls in my room, and never once has anyone asked me about why I'm never here," Jay barks. He takes a step forward. They're a foot apart now, and I'm starting to get anxious. I wonder if this is how he felt when my mother showed up, all helpless and anxious and useless in the background. "And if nobody gives me rules, I assume it will be the same with Annalise, right? No curfew, free reign, and no supervision whatsoever?"
"You don't need to worry about Annalise."
"Yet I do need to worry about her becuase I'm the only one, except for her nanny, who has been looking after her around here lately. While you're off schmoozing the entire country into thinking you're fit to be a President someday and Mom's off in some rehab facility, things have been falling apart around here."
Senator Keely laughs, "When did you become so dramatic and concerned about people other than yourself? Before we moved here, you couldn't have given less of a shit about your younger sister, and now you're acting as if she's the most important thing in your life. Do tell, Jay, what possessed you to become responsible?"
Jay casts a smile over to his right towards me. "Sarah showed me what it's like to be responsible. She, in her own passive aggressive way, made me grow up."
Senator Keely quirks an eyebrow at me and addresses me, "You're quite the miracle worker, aren't you?"
Jay steps over and picks my hand back up, "Yeah, she is, and it's too bad she'll never get to work a miracle on you because God, and everyone, knows you could use one."
And with that he pulls me toward the door. I peek over at Senator Keely one last time, and the sight of him standing there with a solemn look on his face is disconcerting. I'm not sure if he's upset that his son called him out or that his son was absolutely, 100% right with all of his accusations. Though I have a feeling it's the former, I can't help but think that maybe he's realizing how terrible of a parent he is.
Out in Jay's car, he doesn't hesitate with starting the ignition immediately and speeding down the street to the exit. Once we're through the exit gates and out on the main road, he finally speaks, "Well, now you know why I'm never at home."
"I don't blame you one bit," I reply. I place my left hand on his shoulder and try to massage the tension that has gathered inside of it.
"And sorry for freezing up," he doesn't take his eyes off the road. His concentration is astounding. If I was driving and he was rubbing my shoulder, I'd barely be able to keep my hands on the wheel let alone my eyes on the road. "He's always had that effect, causing people to just stop dead in their tracks and act like complete fools."
"I was worried I was going to have to battle him all by my lonesome there for a while," I laugh, "but my knight-in-designer-clothing came out right when I needed him. Does he know about my mother or was that just a total coincidence he knew exactly where to stab me?"
"He has no clue," he pauses, "Don't be offended by this, but I haven't told him a word about you."
I'm not offended; I'm glad. "And likewise, I haven't told my dad about you," I smirk. "He only knows you as Tony's friend and as the kid who flips his daughter's mattress."
He glances over for a second and smirks himself, "Good because that man is very capable of killing me. My father, not so much. He can't even handle blood. He wasn't even in the delivery room when either Annalise or I was born."
We both laugh at that. And when I stop my laughing fit, his words about me making him be responsible and grow up creep into my mind, making me wonder if that's true or was just used as ammunition against his father. "Was what you said about me true?"
"What?"
"Me making you more responsible."
He pulls into my gate-less neighborhood and parks outside of my home before he elaborates. "Well, yeah it was true, Sarah," he throws the car into park and twists in his seat to face me. "I watched you take care of your brothers and I felt so guilty for not doing the same with my sister. Like I'm her only sibling and her mom's in rehab and her father's off traveling the nation, so I felt so bad that she wasn't getting a true childhood like she deserves."
"Jay, you realize in the same position she's in correct? You're allowed to feel bad for yourself. Absentee parents suck, and no one's going to blame you for having a pity party."
"No," he shakes his head, "I'm not in the same position as Annalise because I have you and Tony and Connor and Nick. You guys, and Annalise of course, are my family. And you can't deny it either because you make me meals and offer to do my laundry even though you know I would never ask you to that."
"Are you equating me to being your mother figure?" I grin. "Jay Keely, do you have a thing for MILFs?"
"Well," he stops and pretends to contemplate my question, "I guess I do."
"You're terrible."
He leans over the console to kiss me, sweetly, not a trace of urgency behind it. When he leans back, he's grinning, and I wonder if there's a time of day he's not grinning. "But you still love me even though I'm terrible, which, honey pie, reflects badly on you, not me."
"You're terrible and annoying," I reach for his shirt collar, twirling my finger in the fabric and bringing him closer. My kiss isn't as sweet. It's a hungry kind of kiss, one that says I don't you to kiss me goodbye at the door, I want you to come upstairs.
Breaking apart, I unlock the door and crawl out of the car. Jay, still rooted in his seat as if he physically can't move, gives me a pained expression. Then, glancing at the way he's sitting, I realize he literally can't move. Well, let me rephrase that, he just doesn't want to move.
"You coming?" I ask nonchalantly, pretending I don't see the bulge he's not covering very well.
"Yeah," he mutters. "Just give me a minute."
I shrug and slam the car door. Walking up the driveway, I chuckle silently to myself. The kid can stand up to his father, but he can't control himself when it comes to me and my, apparently, temptress-like ways. Hopefully that bashes the way he thinks of me as a mother-figure because I don't think any of the mothers around would have that effect on him.
I'd like to think I'm running unopposed in the race to get Jay Kennedy Keely all worked up.