Page 35 of Jilted Jock
“Wait, did you say a job interview?”
“Yeah, I’m uh moving to New York.” I held my arms out to my side in a display of excitement.
“With the boyfriend?”
I nodded.
“Wow. Congratulations. That’s really…” He struggled for the words. “Really great.” He grabbed his wallet and keys absently and without looking at me added, “I should get going. See ya later then.”
I went to bed early. No amount of telling myself it wasn’t my business and that I didn’t care how Finn’s date was going could keep my brain from trying to imagine it. Thoughts like, what was the girl like? Did she look like Cindy? Where had he met her? What were they talking about? Were they talking at all or wasdrinksjust code for have sex at her place?
It was none of my business. None. Zilch.
But seriously, why her? Of all the girls in Hermosa Beach why had he selected… whoever he had? I was genuinely curious where one went after Cindy.
I even hoped he might call and need a sober driver. I’d be willing to get out of bed in the middle of the night if it meant getting a good look at his date.
I was frustrated and feeling restless, more so than I had in years. I needed to release some of the emotions that had me keyed up or I’d never sleep. My hands trailed down my body, a light caress over my cotton shirt and stopping at my navel. Closing my eyes, I slipped a hand inside my sleep shorts. My fingers hadn’t even touched my sex before I was swimming in ecstasy.
I flipped over onto my stomach and muffled my cries with the pillow. Moving my hips and grinding down, I rode my hand. Richard’s face flitted by, his sweet smile and kind eyes. I could almost pretend my touch was his, slow and tender.
Then the face changed, shifted into another – this one younger, cockier, harder. My breaths came faster. The phantom touch on my skin was different too – frantic and rough. I fought my body and brain, wanting both slow and tender and frantic and rough. A war waged inside my body and my emotions, and I let the two have equal parts of me. My heart raced, body slick and wanting. I focused only on the pleasure as the delicious pressure splintered me in two and sent me over the edge.
After work the next day, I stopped by the store for a few groceries. Cooking, or rather eating a home cooked meal (since all I’d done was dice vegetables), had been fun and the thought of eating my leftover salad from lunch was more unappealing than usual.
Finn was sitting on the couch watching TV, kitty on his lap when I walked in. He stood and moved toward me, taking the bags from me while I stood still in the entryway.
“That’s really not necessary,” I told him feeling a bit awkward about how domestic the whole thing felt. Coming home, a man sitting on the couch, him helping me with the groceries.
I guessed that’s what it would be like when I moved in with Richard. I tried to picture the whole scenario that’d just happened but with Richard instead of Finn.
“Everything okay?” Finn asked.
Apparently, I’d stood still too long. “Sorry, yeah.”
He emptied my bags, placing everything on the counter and then holding up the steak – though he couldn’t tell what they were from the brown butcher paper.
“Please tell me this is steak?”
I smiled. “It’s steak.”
He fist pumped, a big smile on his face, and then started pulling things out of my cabinets. I watched, amused that he knew where things were. The cutting board, the knife, the seasoning.
“What kind of pan do you need?” he asked as he opened the cabinet where I stored all my pots and pans.
“Actually, I was going to walk over to Chance’s. He lets me use his grill as long as I share.”
“You two are close?” he asked, though it sounded more like a statement. “I mean I know you live close, but you seem to really get along well too.”
“We are. We do.”
“He’s protective of you, but he never said much about what you were like.”
That didn’t surprise me. Chance held my secrets closely. Some part of him was probably embarrassed about the whole thing – that he had a sister who was an addict and that he’d been dragged into my mess. He’d never admit that, of course. I knew he loved me and that he felt guilty for not being there when I first started using, but he couldn’t have stopped me. He liked to think he could have – that big brotherly ‘I would have knocked some sense into you’ mentality – but I was good at hiding it from the people I loved. Until I wasn’t.
“One of the guys asked about you once. Said he’d seen a picture of you on Chance’s social media or something and wanted to know if he could get your number. I thought Chance was going to punch him just for suggesting he was good enough for you.” Finn shook his head like he was remembering it. “Can’t say that I blame him. If you were my sister, I’d be protective, too.”
My face heated with the sort of compliment. I put the steaks on a plate and Finn took over seasoning while I wrapped potatoes in foil. “Chance always wanted to keep me from dating his friends. The first time I admitted I had a crush on one of them – I was probably only in fifth grade or so – he freaked out and told me I was never ever to date his friends. That he’d make sure they knew I was off limits. After that any time any of his buddies were over, he’d get pissed if they even said hi to me. I mean hello, it’s not like they were interested in Chance’s skinny, awkward little sister. Most of the time guys, even my own age, were just nice to me to get to Chance. He was always popular, the guy people wanted to know and be friends with. Even before he became Chance the soccer star.”
