Jacen’s POV
I’d never been on a date before. I was seventeen years old, and I’d never been on a single date. Given my record with women, I wasn’t sure if that made me pathetic or God like. Either way, it meant I had no idea what the fuck I was doing.
I took my helmet off and gazed up at the house. In all honesty, it was kind of a piece of shit. It was a narrow two story building with peeling white paint and shutters that dangled off the windows. But it didn’t seem eerie like some old houses do. In fact, it seemed kind of weirdly . . . homey. There was warm orange light emanating from the windows, bikes strewn in the grass, and toy trucks scattered across the porch. It was nice – in a way I was unfamiliar with.
“This is where she lives,” I thought as I hung my helmet on the handlebars and began crossing the gravel covered driveway. It was a strangely exciting thought. It made Jane more real – knowing she had a house and a family like all the other normal people on the planet.
I climbed the porch, but before I could knock on the door, barking erupted from behind it. I could hear the distinct sound of nails scraping against wood and the snarling of fighting dogs. I raised an eyebrow, suddenly wondering if I had the right address. But then I heard her voice.
“It’s alright! Come in!” Jane called. Relieved, I pushed the door open and was shocked to see Jane standing in the kitchen, holding back two large Rottweilers by their collars. Behind her there was a gate up, locking an angry German shepherd and an even angrier Pitbull in what appeared to be the living room.
I couldn’t focus on the menacing dogs though. My eyes were immediately drawn to Jane. It was hard not to look anywhere else. For once, she wasn’t wearing some loose baseball jersey or a McDonald’s uniform. For once, her clothes accented her body. The white t-shirt she wore fit her amazingly – pointing out curves I hadn’t known existed and showing off a rack I hadn’t realized was quite so impressive. In fact, her breasts were so perky that at this point I wasn’t sure if I was staring at them, or if they were staring at me.
“Hi,” she said in a small voice dragging my eyes back up to her face. She was out of breath as she tried to restrain the dogs. It wasn’t going so well. The bigger Rottweiler broke loose and threw itself at me, jumping up on me excitedly. I stumbled back slightly from the sheer weight.
“Rosie!” Jane shouted, her voice loud and authoritative. “Rosie get down!” The dog complied, dropping back down to all fours as she began to circle me, sniffing at my legs.
“I’m so sorry,” Jane apologized, dragging the smaller dog over to the living room and managing to shove him in without letting the others out.
“Don’t worry about it,” I told her, stroking the top of Rosie’s head as her wet nose pressed up against my thigh.
“No really,” she insisted, “It’s my fault. If I’d realized you were here I would’ve put them all in the other room. I didn’t hear your car pull up though - some jackass was riding his obnoxious motorcycle up and down the damn street.”
“That jackass would be me,” I said, smiling; it was impossible not to. The look on her face as her gaze shifted to the window behind me, catching sight of my bike in her driveway – it was priceless.
“Did I say obnoxious? I meant sexy. Yeah, that’s it. Sexy,” she joked around, pretending to backtrack.
“I’m sure,” I said, unable to wipe the grin on my face. She smiled back; not at all repentant that she’d just insulted me. And I was glad she wasn’t.
“Well if we’re going to be riding on that . . . sexy motorcycle of yours,” she teased further, “I’m going to need a jacket.” She paused as her gaze flickered briefly over to the staircase behind her. “Just – wait here a second.”
“Alright but don’t take too long,” I advised, “We have reservations at the nicest place in town.”
Her eyes lit up for a moment with curiosity but she didn’t ask – only smiled. Before she turned and bounded up the stairs and I found myself staring at her ass as she did. Strange that I hadn’t noticed how nice it was until now.
I stuffed my hands in my pockets and surveyed the kitchen. I really hadn’t gotten a good look at the place when I first came in. Normally, I really wouldn’t care. But this was Jane’s house – And that made it worth paying attention to.
The first thing I noticed was there was a distinct smell to everything - a mixture of cigarette smoke, dog, and beef stew. Surprisingly, it wasn’t as unappealing as it sounded. The next thing I noticed was that the furniture in here was kind of run down, the kitchen table was severely cluttered with mail and schoolbooks, and the floor was covered in dust balls. But again, I was met with an unfamiliar feeling of . . .quaintness. This place just seemed so lived in. They even had pictures on the fridge– just like people had in movies.
“So you’re the jackoff that’s taking my sister out,” came a voice from my left. I turned my head to see a guy around my own age emerging from a door that he closed behind him. Based on his words and his dark hair – I could infer that this was Jane’s brother.
“Seems like it,” I said as I shrugged.
He edged closer, narrowing his eyes at me suspiciously. You’d think we were both auditioning for the same role what with the venomous glare he was giving me.
“I know who you are,” he informed me none too nicely.
“Alright, so you have eyes,” I said, nodding, “Good to know.”
His expression soured further. “I just want to let you know . . . I don’t care if you’re famous. If you hurt my sister – I will take my father’s shot gun and shoot you.”
I raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Where?” I wondered.
My question seemed to throw him off guard. “Where what?”
“Where will you shoot me,” I elaborated, “In the head, in the chest? Or like, in the leg? Because you know, it matters.”
“In the dick,” he said crudely. I was kind of surprised by his audacity. But at the same time, I respected him a little for it.
“Joey!” came Jane’s sharp reproach as she appeared at the foot of the stairs – a fitted jean jacket adorning her upper body.
He looked over at his shoulder at her briefly before turning back to me. “Watch yourself,” he warned menacingly before stalking off. I looked up at Jane, who had a hand pressed to her forehead.
“I apologize for my brother,” she said as she neared. The closer she got to me the harder it became to focus. She smelled divine. Like coconut and spring water. “He likes to think he’s the man of the house.”
“How come? Your Dad not around?” I wondered. I wasn’t sure if that was polite or not, but I wanted to know more then I wanted to be mannerly.
“No. He’s around,” she answered vaguely, not offering up anything else. I decided not to push it, because that would spur her to ask me about my family. And that was a whole load of shit I didn’t want to get into it right now.
“Well c’mon, let’s get going,” I said, smirking, “We have a schedule to keep.”
“I didn’t realize Odette planned our date,” she responded, grinning as she ushered me out the door and closed it behind us quickly before one of the dogs got out. Out here in the night, surrounded by buzzing mosquitos and the smell of pine, she seemed even prettier.
“Oh hell no,” I laughed, “You’d know if Odette had planned it. I’d have picked you up at exactly seven – we’d have driven to dinner in a horse drawn carriage, then topped off the night with an evening mass, and we’d have spent the entire time arm’s length apart.”
“Well, I hate to burst your bubble, but we’re arm’s length apart right now,” she pointed out – that perpetual, care free smile on her lips.
In response, I moved closer so that our sides were flush against one another, and threw my arm around her shoulders. Her little grin grew. “This was what you wanted, wasn’t it?” I accused, “Why you sly little minx.”
She pretended to be offended. “Why I never!” she said in a fake southern belle accent that I somehow didn’t find offensive, “I don’t know what y’all heard about me Mr. Sage but I ‘aint that sort of girl.”
“Of course you’re not,” I said, my tone teasing but my words true as we finally reached my bike. I removed my arm around her shoulders and grabbed hold of my extra helmet, tossing it to her. “You ever ridden on a motorcycle before?” I asked.
“Once,” she said as she put the helmet on. Throw in a pair of leather boots and she would’ve looked like a sexy biker chick. Not one of the chain smoking butch ones with eighty tattoos though, but the young ones with the hot bodies and tramp stamps.
“Good. Then I can skip the tutorial. Hop on,” I said as I climbed on. She did the same, situating herself behind me and wrapping her arms around my waist. I smiled as I strapped my helmet on and prepared to start the engine. “Hold on.”
“Oh really? I was thinking of letting go while we were speeding down the interstate,” she said sarcastically, causing my grin to grow as I started the engine and sped out of the driveway. I focused on the road as we drove, but my mind kept getting pulled back to her by the feel of her hands clutching my t-shirt.
We drove for a while – the sound of the roaring engine making talking impossible. I didn’t mind so much. With all the headlights and neon signs shining in my face – It was hard enough to concentrate on driving.
Soon though, we left the lights behind us. As we neared our destination, there were fewer signs, fewer cars, fewer people. Just as I’d hoped for.
I pulled up in front of a rundown theater. The large building had boards over all the windows. Above the doors there was a triangle shaped fixture jutting out – where the names of plays being shown there had once been broadcasted. Above that there was a long vertical sign proclaiming it to be The Palace. It certainly didn’t look like one from out here.
I parked my bike out front and killed the engine. Jane removed her arms from my waist and we both got to our feet at the same time. She removed her helmet and began fixing her slightly mussed hair. She looked up at the playhouse with confusion clear in her expression. “I hope you weren’t planning on taking me to a play,” she said, “Because this place has been closed for years.”
“I know,” I said, smirking smugly as I hung our helmets up.
“Then what’re we . . .” she trailed off as I took hold of her hand. I tried not to dwell on the feel of static jumping from my palm to hers as I led her over to the front door.
“Just shut up and you’ll see,” I told her, my tone lacking in bite. As we reached the old doors with the rusted hinges I pulled out my credit card and slid it through the crease, until I heard the click I’d been searching for.
“How the fuck did you do that?” she demanded.
“Money opens many doors,” I explained, “Metaphorically and physically.” I pushed the door open and flipped the lights on as we stepped inside.
“Holy shit,” she breathed, taking in the sight in front of her. Rows upon rows of red seats stretched on endlessly in front of us, descending down to the large stage at the end. The heavy curtains were parted to reveal a small table, covered with a long white tablecloth. Off to the side there was a large buffet with covered silver platters and next to it rested an IPod doc.
“Did you – did you do all this?” she asked.
I smiled. “Well doesn’t it seem more likely than me somehow guessing it was here?”
“But how did you . . .” she trailed off and I flashed my credit card at her as an answer.
“Many doors,” I repeated.
“Jesus,” she whistled low in appreciation.
“So, what are you waiting for?” I asked, “The second coming of Christ? C’mon, I’m fucking hungry.”
She smirked a little, glancing at the stage and then back to me. “I bet I can beat you there,” she challenged.
“You want to race?”
“Yeah. Why not?” she asked.
“Because we’re not five?” I tried, “Or at least, I’m not. I hope you’re not. Or else I’m going to jail for a long time.”
She rolled her eyes. “Well I’m going to beat you there. Even if you’re too much of a pussy to participate.” Shedding her jacket and leaving it on a random seat she took off running down the aisle. I laughed and shook my head. I didn’t understand at all why she wanted to race, but it was still kind of funny. Maybe she just had a lot of energy. I could think of a few better ways to use that . . .
Shoving the dirty thoughts out of my head, I took off after her. She was fast, I had to admit, but even with a head start, she wasn’t fast enough. I caught up with her in under ten seconds, grabbing hold of her waist and lifting her clear off the ground. She squealed like a little girl. Hell, maybe she was five.
“Put me down!” she cried, laughing the whole while, “You rapist! Don’t make me get my whistle!”
“Blow it all you want,” I told her as I hoisted her over my shoulder with ease, “There’s nobody around to hear you.”
Her body shook slightly as she laughed. “That sounded really dirty.”
I laughed along as I climbed the stairs at the side of the stage. “Well feel free to do that too,” I told her as I placed her down. Color was high in her cheeks and a smile was clear on her face. I was expecting her to feign anger but her attention immediately shifted to the buffet.
“What kind of food did you get?” she wondered as she drifted over. I smirked, but didn’t say anything as I followed her over. She lifted the first lid and burst out laughing at the array of chicken mcnuggets underneath it.
“Wow – classy,” she said.
“It gets better,” I assured her as she lifted the next tray to reveal the pile of French fries. She kept on laughing as she moved further down the buffet. Under every lid there was another item of junk food. A mountain of candy since I wasn’t sure what kind she liked, an assortment of mini burgers with just about every combination of fixings, a tower of chocolate chip cookies, a tray of bacon, a knot of licorice. And under one lid there was just a pile of six packs of different sodas.
“Holy fucking shit,” she breathed through her laughter, looking at me with amazement in her eyes, “This is insane! How . . .Why did you do all this?”
That was a good question. I wasn’t sure why to be honest, and I wasn’t too interested in figuring it out. When it came to Jane, I really didn’t know what the fuck I was doing, and I’d accepted it.
“I . . . I’m not sure,” I said honestly, “I just wanted you to have a good time tonight.”
That made her smile. Of course, it didn’t take much to do that. She was always smiling. It was kind of contagious. But this was a different type of a smile – it was slower, sensual almost.
She glided closer to me and placed a gentle hand on my chest – so light it almost wasn’t there. “You know,” she said softly, looking up at me with those big, hazel eyes, “You’re a lot sweeter than I would’ve guessed.”
“Well, let’s keep that between you and me,” I said, quirking the corner of my lip up in a smirk. “Now c’mon, don’t you want to eat?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” she chirped perkily, skipping over to the buffet. I took notice of how she took some salad (which I’d only gotten because women love that shit for some reason) but also took a large helping of fries and a cream soda. She even took a handful of candy.
I smiled as I finished piling my plate with chicken nuggets, French fries, and mini burgers. For my choice of soda, I picked root beer. As we took our seats across from one another, I couldn’t help but catch her smiling at me as I reached for the ketchup.
“What are you smiling about?” I asked.
“I just still can’t believe you did all this,” she said as she began eating, “I mean, how did you even know this place was here?”
I shrugged as I struggled to get the ketchup out of the bottle. “Well . . . I pass this place all the time and I never really thought anything of it. Until I was racking my brain for where we should go tonight. I didn’t want to go to restaurant – Let me tell you, it’s hard not to be self-conscious when strangers are taking photos of you while you’re eating. . .But I remembered what you said about loving the theater . . . And I don’t know – This place just popped into my head.”
“Well it was a great idea,” she assured me, “This is already the best date I’ve ever been on.”
“It’s the only date I’ve ever been on.” The words escaped my lips without my consent. Honestly, I had no idea why I just told her that. What a lame thing to say.
“Really?” She seemed genuinely surprised.
“Really,” I confirmed. It was too late to lie about it anyway. I dunked my chicken nugget in my fries and refrained from eye contact.
“That’s crazy. But wait . . . What about Molly North, and Jasmine Drew, and Rosalyn Summers. Didn’t you date all those girls?”
Hearing her say Rosalyn’s name was physically painful. I wasn’t sure why. I wasn’t dating Rosalyn. I’d made that perfectly clear.
“Well not in the . . . It’s sort of . . . Can we just talk about something else?” I asked, on the verge of getting flustered. The last thing I wanted to talk about right now was my fucked up love life or the politics of my business.
“Oh I’m sorry! Um . . . Let’s talk about something else . . . How about . . . Where are you from?”
I was curious for a moment if she actually didn’t know or if she was just grasping at straws. Either way, I decided to just go with it. “Georgia,” I said.
“No way!” she exclaimed, “You’re shitting me.”
“I shit you not,” I assured her, taking a swig of my root beer, “Born and occasionally raised in Buchanan – the smallest town in all of Georgia.”
“No way,” she said, disbelieving, “If you’re from Georgia why don’t you have a Southern accent?”
“Jane – I’m an actor. I could have an Indian accent if I wanted,” I explained, rolling my eyes.
“Right, right. So when did you move?” she wondered. I found myself smiling at her curiosity.
“Well I started traveling for work when I was about six. But we never actually moved. We still have a house down there. I haven’t been there in . . . God knows how long. Years? Shit I don’t know. But it’s been a long time.”
This seemed to intrigue her – she leaned forward slightly, causing her long hair to brush against the tablecloth. “So where do you live then?”
I shrugged. “Nowhere. Everywhere. I’m not sure. I have a penthouse down in LA – I guess I live there.”
She smiled faintly – it was almost a sad smile. I couldn’t imagine why. “I’ve never seen someone struggle so much with such an easy question.”
“Yeah, my living situation is pretty weird, I know,” I mumbled, keeping my eyes trained on my French fries. I could just feel her curious, nonjudgmental gaze on me but I couldn’t make myself look up for more than a second at a time.
“So what about your family, where do they live?” she wondered.
I put a hand to my forehead. God this dating stuff was fucking hard. All the questions. I felt like I was at an interview, only this was worse, because I actually cared about the opinion of the person asking the questions.
“Georgia,” I answered, my eyes drifting skyward as I tried to recall where they were currently staying, “But they go on vacation a lot. I think they’re in Rio right now.”
I finally met her eyes and was thoroughly startled by what I saw. Her expression. . . I couldn’t even describe it. The concern and empathy on her face far surpassed anything I was familiar with. She looked as if her heart was breaking and I couldn’t understand why.
“You think?” she repeated softly.
“Yeah. I mean, I’m pretty sure. My parents like to travel a lot. It’s hard to keep up.”
“Is it just you and your parents? Don’t you have any siblings?” she wondered. The question itself was mundane enough, but the response it provoked in me was anything but. I could’ve sworn my airways actually tightened up. I couldn’t breathe. Memories were flooding my head without my permission.
Hot blistering sunshine . . . a howling dog . . . the metal gate swinging and scraping in the wind . . . a ghastly shadow against the freshly mowed grass. . .
No, no, no – not here. Not now. I pushed the memories out of my head as they threatened to take over me. I shoved them back down, smothering them.
I took a deep, silent breath. “Not anymore,” I said shortly.
Jane’s hand flew over her mouth. “Oh God,” she said, putting her hand out to touch mine but I yanked it away reflectively, “I – I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine. It was a long time ago. I was a little kid – I hardly remember,” I said. Most of that was true – except for the last part anyway. But that didn’t matter. I was going to work until it was true. Until I hardly remembered. Until I didn’t remember at all.
“Just – uh, tell me about your family,” I changed the subject. I was suddenly longing for a stiff drink but I had none available to me. I turned my attention to Jane, focusing on her to tune out all else. So far things hadn’t been going great as far as conversation went, but Jane didn’t seem that put off. Mostly she just looked guilty.
“And pretty,” I added mentally. She did though. This was the prettiest I’d ever seen her. When I first saw her I’d noted that she was kind of pretty but over time, she only seemed to have become more and more attractive. It was strange. Usually the more time I spent with a woman the less time I wanted to spend with them. But that wasn’t the case with Jane.
“Oh well I have two brothers – both younger. Joey and Alex. You already met Joey. He’s fifteen, but he doesn’t seem to know that. He likes to pretend he’s the older brother – but I’m sure you’ve realized that. And then Alex,” she paused then and smiled a happy, reminiscing smile, “Alex is just a sweetheart. He’s my baby.”
Hearing her talk about her brothers wasn’t exactly helpful right now, so I tried to divert the conversation again. “What about your parents? What do they do?”
She snorted then, surprising me. The look on her face was far more scornful then I could’ve imagined her capable of. “Everything but their jobs,” she muttered, casting her eyes downward for a moment, “My dad’s an electrician – but he’s currently out of work. Again. And my mom just does . . . whatever. Right now she works as a bartender down at Ernie’s. I guess we’ll see how long that lasts.”
I furrowed my brows as I listened to this. She seemed . . . genuinely upset by this. I’d never seen her upset before and I quickly decided that I didn’t like it. “So . . . you guys have money problems,” I observed.
She sighed heavily. “Yeah,” she said without looking up, “We’ve always had money problems.”
All of a sudden, I felt like a total ass. Here I was, with my wallet bursting with platinum credit cards and one hundred dollar bills, wasting all that money on whatever random shit I suddenly wanted – basically rubbing my wealth in Jane’s face. How could she possibly stand me?
I wished then that I could just give her some money. But I knew she wouldn’t take it. She was too proud. I mean, if she wasn’t she wouldn’t be tirelessly working every God damn shift possible without a single complaint. And then there were the drugs . . .
“That’s why you sell drugs, isn’t it?” I realized aloud.
She looked up at me and a sad smile ghosted her lips. “Well Jace, people don’t typically become drug dealers because they’re financially stable.”
I put a hand to my head. “Christ. This is not how I was hoping this date would go. This is all really . . . heavy.”
“Well, how about we start over?” she suggested, her smiling turning genuine like someone had flipped on a light switch. I was suddenly envious of how quickly she could pick herself back up like that. I wished I could do that on my own.
She moved over to the buffet, a bounce in every step. I let my gaze trail up her long legs to her tight ass. It was amazing how therapeutic that was. I was already beginning to forget what had gone so wrong about this night.
The music of Luke Bryan filled the room, and that’s when I realized what she was doing; fiddling with my IPod. Smart move, I had to admit. Music always was good for altering the mood.
“Wow,” she said, turning to me with a grin, “You really are from Georgia.”
I laughed. “What? You didn’t believe me?”
“Not until I realized that your IPod is full of this country crap!” she exclaimed.
“Hey, it is not crap,” I defended my choice of music.
She paused, pursing her lips to contemplate as the lyrics to “Country Girl Shake It For Me.” Echoed throughout the empty playhouse.
“Hmm. I guess it does sort of have a nice beat,” she admitted, “Kind of makes me want to dance.”
She smirked as she began to dance over to me – stomping her feet and miming that she was swinging a lasso. I laughed. More than I have in a long time.
“Why are you laughing?” she demanded teasingly, “Aren’t I a hot dancer?”
I laughed some more. “Whatever you’re doing there, it’s not dancing. And it’s certainly not hot.”
“Oh?” she asked, “Well how about this?” Then she actually began to dance for real. Her feet stayed in place for the most part, but the rest of her sure as hell didn’t. Her hips were moving in such a tantalizing fashion that I thought my eyes were going to pop out of my head. Her breasts were bouncing away as well as her hands teased through her dark hair. She narrowed her eyes at me seductively and for the first time I realized that Jane was sexy.
The only person who was enjoying her dance more than me, was probably her. She seemed to be having a great time. And she had absolutely no inhibitions about dancing by herself. That was almost unheard of.
She pranced over to the grand piano that had randomly been shoved on the corner of the stage and jumped up on it. I watched with surprise as she laughed wildly, continuing dancing.
“C’mon Jacen!” she shouted, “You’re the cowboy around here! Get up here and redneck it up with me!”
“I find that offensive,” I informed her, unable to keep from smirking.
“Oh who cares, get your ass up!” she insisted, jumping down and dancing over to me. She grabbed hold of my hand and tried to pull me up but to no avail. I smirked. “Oh c’mon!” she persisted, “Dance with me or I’ll be forced to give you a lap dance.”
“Oh no,” I said my voice mockingly monotone, “Please don’t. Anything but that.”
She laughed and pulled again and this time, I gave in. Just because I knew it would make her happy. And what do you know? It did. I got up and the biggest smile lit up her face as she grabbed my hands. I started dancing with her, twirling her around, pulling her close as she shook her hips, laughing wildly the whole time. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had so much fun.
When the song came to an end, we were standing on the apron of the stage – dead center – looking out at the empty sea of chairs. There was one moment of silence, and during that pause, I looked to Jane. Her cheeks were fiery and her eyes were sparkling. As per usual, she had an ecstatic smile on her face. I was pretty sure mine matched hers.
“That was a lovely performance,” I told her as the next song began. It was another Luke Bryan song – a much slower one at that. Not a slow song, but certainly not as faced paced or upbeat as the last one. I recognized it immediately as “I Don’t Want This Night To End.” Ironic.
“How about an encore?” she suggested, holding out her hand. I smiled as I took it and pulled her flush against my body. I took her hand and placed my other one on her hip as we began to dance across the stage as if it was a ballroom. The problem with any form of slow dancing was that it promoted extended eye contact.
I kept my gaze locked on her like crosshairs, entranced by how she looked as we moved beneath different colored stage lights. All of a sudden, I felt like a sailor trapped by a siren’s spell. She was just so damn beautiful. I had no idea how it had taken me so long to realize it. She was fucking gorgeous. The way her chocolate curls cascaded down one shoulder, the way her cheeks pinked up, the way her eyes seemed to steam up every time I pulled her in closer. She was . . . mesmerizing. I’d never seen anything so beautiful.
I didn’t ever want to let go of the small hand of hers that I held in mine – or relinquish my hold on the delicious body of hers that was pressed up against me.
Even as the song came to a close, I didn’t let go, and she didn’t pull away. She met my eyes again and said to me, “There’s something I have to tell you.”
Panic filled me. What was she going to say? Was it bad news? Did she have a boyfriend? Was she a lesbian? Did she just want to be friends? A million unfortunate sentences ran through my head in that second, but I maintained my composure.
“What is it Jane?” I asked.
“My name,” she said, “Isn’t Jane.”
I furrowed my eyebrows. “What is it then?” I wondered, “Janet? Janice?” I assumed that it was something in the same family as Jane. I guessed that Jane was just a nickname.
“Nicolette,” she said, not meeting my eyes.
I had to admit, I was a little taken back. “What?” I demanded automatically.
“My name’s Nicolette,” she explained, “But everybody just calls me Nikki.”
My head started pounding. What a mind fuck. “Wait – then why did that girl from the other night call you Jane?”
“That’s my alias – you know, my drug dealer name,” she tried to explain, “Plain Jane.”
“Why didn’t you just correct me that first night?” I asked. It would have been so simple. So easy. Not a big deal.
“I – I don’t know,” she admitted, nervousness making itself evident in her tone. I could tell that she was about to start freaking out. I didn’t understand why until I realized she thought I was mad at her.
“Well I wish you would’ve told me sooner, now I’m going to have to throw out that notebook that I filled with doodles of hearts around the name Jane. That’s a real inconvenience. I’m going to have to start all over now,” I said, my tone sounding one hundred percent serious.
She met my gaze and her eyes lit up. “Wait – you’re not mad?” she checked.
“No. I’m not mad Ja – I mean Nikki,” I corrected myself, “It’s just going to take me a while to get used to that.”
It was a huge mind fuck after all. For the past week my head had been consumed with thoughts of Jane. The thoughts were unchanged – but now they were about a girl named Nikki.
“Oh, I’m so glad you’re not mad,” she breathed, seeming relieved as she melted against me. “I was so afraid you were going to be pissed.”
Filled by some strange compulsion, I lifted my hand and gingerly touched her hair. It was as soft as I’d thought it would be. “Trust me, you have no reason to be afraid of me.” Now, I had every right to be afraid of her. The affect she had on me was altogether frightening.
She met my gaze for a long quiet moment as more country music played around us. I don’t know what I expected her to say but it wasn’t, “Do you have the time?” It was kind of a mood killer.
“Uh yeah,” I said, detaching from her as I pulled my phone out, “It’s five after ten.”
“Oh shit,” she muttered, “I promised Alex I’d be home in time to tuck him in. I hate to say this but . . . Do you think you could get me home in twenty minutes?”
I didn’t want to leave – didn’t want to let go of the only perfect moment in my life. But despite that I promised, “I’ll get you back in ten,”, though I knew I couldn’t keep it. It was like a thirty minute ride, but I’d do my best to beat all the red lights.
“Well c’mon then, that kid needs his bedtime story,” I said, clapping my hands, “Chop chop!”
“But what about all this . . .” she said, looking down at all the food.
“Don’t worry about it,” I assured her, wrapping my arm around her shoulders, “Now c’mon, or I’ll be forced to carry you again.”
“It would be faster,” she laughed as we hastily made our way to the exit, practically jogging as we made our way to the doors at the back. I turned the lights out behind us and as we cleared the parking lot. We both jumped on my bike and she locked her hands around my waist and we took off.
I sped down the street, tempted to disregard the speeding limits but not daring to with Jan – Nikki here with me. We ended up getting pretty luckily as far as red lights went, and made it home in twenty five minutes. Close enough.
I pulled into her driveway – the gravel surface causing my bike to make unhealthy sounds. She climbed off, muttering a hasty thank you.
“Not so fast,” I said, hopping off and grabbing her wrist, “I’ve watched enough movies to know that I’m supposed to walk you to the door.”
She smiled and handed me her helmet and I hung it up along with mine. “Well hurry up then,” she said as I grabbed her hand and began walking her towards the door at a pace that was snaillike compared to our earlier rushing.
“You know,” she said as we climbed the crumbling porch, “This was easily the best night of my life.”
The satisfaction and joy that that filled me with was unparalleled by anything else I’d ever felt. “Me too,” I said, sounding surprised. Because hell, I was surprised.
“Does that mean we’re going to do this again sometime?” she asked hopefully. We were on her porch – right in front of the door. But she wasn’t going inside.
“Sometime?” I repeated, “No. We’re going to do this all the time.” She laughed. “Don’t laugh. I’m serious. Don’t be surprised if I call you before you even make it up to your room.”
She smiled again, leaning in very close to me. So close that our chests were touching. “I’ll be waiting by the phone,” she purred in a voice far sultrier than I thought her capable of.
I didn’t say anything in response. Fuck, I didn’t know what to say. And if I did, I probably wouldn’t have been able to.
“Oh, and one last thing,” she hummed in a low, sensual tone, leaning in close to whisper in my ear, “I really do think motorcycles are sexy.”
I should’ve kissed her then. Her lips were so close to mine. I only would’ve had to move an inch or two. That was it. I could’ve done it. I should’ve done it.
But I didn’t. I was paralyzed in place by a strange, panicky feeling. I’d never felt like this before. I felt as if I was frozen. My mind was saying “do it!” but my body just wasn’t reacting. I didn’t understand. I’d kissed tons of girls before. And I hadn’t wanted to kiss any of them as much as I wanted to kiss Nikki then – so how come I couldn’t?
She waited like that for some time before sinking back down to her original height. “Well, good night Jace,” she said, smiling as she unlocked her door.
“Good night Nikki,” I murmured as she disappeared inside the house. Once she was gone, I cursed low under my breath, “Motherfucker.” I stomped off the porch, pulling at my hair in frustration as I mentally beat myself up. Why hadn’t I been able to do it? I got up in front of millions of people and made speeches, I kissed anonymous girls on live TV all the time, I took my clothes off for magazines. But I couldn’t even kiss the one girl I’d ever had feelings about. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”
“Jace.”
I was just about to my bike when I heard her voice. I turned around to see her standing in the doorway, looking down at me with the most frantic light in her eyes.
“Oh thank God you’re still here. You forgot something,” she said as she descended the porch and began jogging towards me – picking up speed as she got nearer.
“Wha -,” I began but the words died on my tongue as she threw her arms around my neck and latched her lips onto mine with heated fever. It was a brief kiss – but it was easily the best kiss of my life. Her lips were frantic, yet tender against mine. I moaned without even realizing it, tangling my fingers in that soft hair of hers. If I thought it was hard to let go of her before, it was absolutely impossible now.
She removed her lips from mine but kept her hands around my neck. “That,” she said.