Confessions of a Bad Boy (15 page)

Jessie laughs a little.

“That definitely sounds like something Kyle would do.”

We sit for a while again, comfortable in the warm glow of Kyle’s good deed, until it suddenly turns into a dark shadow.

“What the fuck are we doing, Jessie?”

She looks up, startled, but aware of what I’m saying. She opens her mouth, but only manages to shake her head.

“This is bad,” I say. “What’s happening between us…at the retreat and just now… It could ruin everything. For all three of us.”

Jessie’s pained expression tells me she gets it, that she feels just as worried as I do.

“I don’t know, Nate. I mean, we’re two adults who’ve known each other for a long time, both going through some shit, both getting some comfort from each other. It doesn’t have to get complicated so long as we’re honest with each other.”

“And Kyle?”

“Kyle…” Jessie trails off.

“Will kill me if he finds out.”

“And then probably kill me also,” she says.

“So what, then?” For a moment, I sit in silence and ask myself what the Bad Boy would do – but I don’t like the answer. He’d break this off, walk away, find some new tail to chase. But for some reason, that’s not what I want right now. What I want is…Jessie. So I take a deep breath and say what I’m really thinking.

“I guess we could just try and keep this a secret? Let it run its course?”

She shrugs. “It’s a plan. A stupid, naïve, and crazy one – but it’s a plan.” Jessie looks at me, unconvinced. “Or you know…we could…just stop. Nip this in the bud before it gets even more out of hand.”

“We probably should,” I say, suddenly finding the way Jessie’s hair falls over her eyes incredibly sexy. Leaning in so slowly I barely notice myself.

“It would be the smart thing to do,” Jessie says, her hand on my thigh moving higher.

“Definitely,” I say, a second before our lips come together.

As I roll her onto her back and nip at her ear, then her neck, drawing soft moans out of her as I move my lips down to her collarbone, I wonder just how strong this treehouse really is…because I think it’s time to make a new memory in here.

Being a bad boy never felt so good.

T
hursdays at Cassie’s
has been a tradition forever. It’s gone through a number of iterations, from a TV show night, to a book club, to a short-lived crocheting circle to a support group for whoever needs it.

The ingredients are simple: Me, Lorelei, Stephanie, Cassie, raw cookie dough (or some other treat), a few margaritas, a board game (sometimes), and no-holds barred conversation. What happens on Thursdays at Cassie’s, stays there. And even with my long hours working on TV shows, they still welcome me with open arms regardless of the fact I’m always late.

Tonight I get there later than usual, and in a bad mood to boot. After joining them in the living room – Stephanie standing on the balcony smoking her e-cigarette – I slump onto the couch and immediately grab the tub of cookie dough from Lorelei beside me and start stuffing my face. There’s a Scrabble board on the table, half-filled, and I realize how well I know each of them when I can almost tell which word was placed by who.

“Bad day?” Stephanie says from beyond the sliding glass door. She’s a fashion designer, though a quick glance could tell you that. She’s incredibly tall, incredibly slim, incredibly androgynous, and is fueled by e-cigarettes, sparkling water, and impeccable taste.

“Uh-huh,” I nod, as I swallow down the far-too-large mouthful.

“What happened?” Cassie says, sitting cross-legged on the other side of the coffee table, Scrabble rack in one hand, margarita glass in the other. She’s blonde, wears thick-rimmed glasses in a varying range of colors, and quit her job last year to create a start-up that’s about to go global. She’s probably the smartest person I know – smart enough to make most people envious if she wasn’t also one of the kindest.

“I went to the bank,” I say through a mouth sticky with sweet stuff.

“That’ll make anyone’s day bad,” Lorelei says, putting down some tiles.

“No. I went there to ask for a loan.”

“Money problems?” Stephanie asks, tucking her e-cig into her purse and coming inside. “I could help you some.”

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “It’s to buy a house.” I shovel another spoonful into my mouth and pass the tub back to Lorelei, though her face is blank with shock. I look around at my friends, all of them silent and gape-mouthed.

“A
house?
”

“What?!”

“When did you decide to do that?”

I shrug, feeling defeated. “I saw my old home, the one I grew up in, for sale. It’s such a beautiful place, and I always thought I’d be there forever. It even has a treehouse. It needs a little work but…I don’t know.”

“So…” Lorelei says, still confused, “you went to the bank for a mortgage?”

“Yeah,” I nod, taking the margarita that Stephanie hands me, “and was rejected quicker than it took me to drive there.”

“Why?” Cassie asks.

“Yeah: why? You work really hard, you have a savings account, a pretty steady gig, so what’s the problem?” Lorelei adds.

I sigh deeply before speaking.

“They said my employment was ‘too unstable.’ Since my contracts only last as long as the seasons, and the show could be cancelled at any moment, I’m too much of a ‘liability.’”

“What bullshit,” Stephanie drawls. “You always find another show!”

“It was probably a stupid idea, anyway,” I say. “It’s just…that house is so perfect. I’d hate to see it bought by someone that didn’t love it.” I think about what Nate said and shudder. “Or even worse, destroyed it and put up another ugly, soulless mansion instead.”

“Of course.”

“I mean, I know I’m young, but I just got this feeling that this is a chance I shouldn’t let go, you know? It’s priced well for the area, although it is the smallest house on the block, but property values are only gonna go up over time. It has to be now, or never. Only it’s looking like never.” I slump back into the couch, the weight of my failure heavy in my heart.

Lorelei puts a hand on my shoulder and I force a smile.

“Maybe we can help.”

I grab the tub of cookie dough off the table and scrape the dregs from the bottom. “More cookie dough?”

Cassie laughs and gets up to fetch it from the kitchen.

“Well,” Lorelei says over the rim of her drink, “I, for one, have no sympathy for you whatsoever.”

“Lorelei!” Stephanie says, shocked.

“What!?” Lorelei laughs. “Jessie’s been having sex with a guy hot enough to get you pregnant just by looking at you. Every night this week.”

I feel my face flush. “It has not been
every
night.”

“No, sometimes you do it in the morning. And let me tell you guys, Jessie is
loud.
”

I cast a stunned look in Lorelei’s direction.

“I am
not!
” I call out above the laughs of the others. “It’s just…” Everyone stops, waiting for me response. “He’s very good.”

Stephanie screams, Cassie gasps, and Lorelei just nods her head to say ‘I told you so.’

“Do you have a picture?” Stephanie asks.

“Yes,” Cassie adds. “I have to see this guy.”

“No, I don’t have a picture. I mean, it’s kind of a secret.”

They swap a few roguish glances.

“Like Hank was a secret?” Stephanie teases.

“Not at all like Hank,” I say. “Thank God.”

“So not another coworker?” Cassie muses. I shrug, trying not to reveal anything further.

“Come on then! Tell us more.”

“There’s not much to say really,” I reply, causing them all to groan and nod sarcastically. “Okay, okay! He’s a guy I’ve known forever. We pretty much grew up together, me, him, and Kyle. Last week he needed someone to go to a retreat with – a work thing. So I went. I don’t know…I was still kinda upset about the Hank thing and the jail thing…and I guess Nate was stressed about some stuff too. One thing led to another and…”

“Oooh!”

“Wait, you’ve known him since you were young?” Stephanie asks, getting up to go out on the balcony once more.

“Pretty much.”

“That’s like ‘the dream,’” Lorelai says in a tone of agreement. “A super-hot guy who’s been a great friend for a long time, add in some sex and you’ve got the perfect boyfriend!”

“No,” I say sharply. “It’s not like that.”

“Seriously, Jessie? I’ve seen him. You can’t tell me you didn’t have a crush on that guy when he was younger. Even if he was half as good-looking as he is now, he’d still beat out all the guys I knew in high school. And he makes Hank look like a lame-ass hipster.”

“Hank
is
a lame-ass hipster,” I say, hoping someone will change the subject fast.

Cassie lifts a brow. “So what exactly is going on? Are you guys just casual, or…?”

I shake my head slowly as I feel everyone’s eyes focus on me, even Stephanie, who pulls out her e-cig, takes a long drag, and holds her breath as she waits for my response.

“I did have a crush on him growing up, you’re right. But he’s not boyfriend material. No way. He’s never even had a girlfriend.”

“Bullshit!”

“I’m serious! It’s not that he can’t get a girl – it’s that he gets them too easily. All he’s done since I’ve known him is sleep around. He’s probably been with a third of the women in L.A. – I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d had a one night stand with one of you guys! He hates commitment, hates marriage, and if you even
say
the word kids around him he starts looking for the nearest exit. I don’t know what this is, exactly, but it’s not what you guys think.”

There’s a silence that seems to pass through the girls after I stop speaking. Lorelei rolls her eyes in disappointment, Cassie shifts some of her Scrabble tiles on their rack, and Stephanie half-shrugs and turns away to blow water vapor at the skyline.

“And then there’s Kyle,” I carry on. “He’s Kyle’s best friend, and you know what Kyle thinks of anyone I try to date.”

“I don’t get it. What’s your brother’s problem?” Cassie says.

“Kyle thinks I only know how to make bad choices when it comes to men. He thinks I should stop dating guys who are gonna hurt me, that I should find someone nice – though I’m not exactly sure he thinks any guy is ‘nice.’ Meanwhile, nobody knows more about how much of a player Nate is than my brother. Mix the two, and you’ve got a recipe for disaster. Or at least a few broken limbs.”

“She’s right,” Lorelei adds, adding force to my point. “Her brother called me up once and shouted at me for a full minute before realizing he’d got my number mixed up with her ex-boyfriend’s. He’s an animal. Pretty cute, but an animal.”

I purse my lips at Lorelei.

“What?” Cassie shrugs. “So it’s okay for your brother to be best friends with him, but not for you to date him?” I nod.

“Pftt,” Stephanie grunts, “men and double-standards go together like me and margaritas.”

I giggle along with the others.

“But you feel something for him, don’t you?” Cassie says seriously.

I take a long sip of margarita and reach for one of the tortilla chips on the table, holding it up and studying it as if the answer might be scorched into it.

“I…uh…”

The idea feels like a solid block in my mind, impenetrable and heavy. Trying to articulate it feels like trying to speak a language I never learned. I look at each of them, three pairs of eyes trained on me keenly, waiting for an answer that’s not even necessary anymore.

Then my phone buzzes.

I go for it, immediately breaking the spell as the others continue to talk about something completely different. It’s a text from Nate.

I’m coming to eat your pussy right now. Get ready.

I shift slightly on the couch and try to hide my smile from the others as I reply.

I’m not at my apartment.

I pause before I press send, looking up at my friends. They wouldn’t really mind. Plus I’ll see them next week. And I do need a pick-me-up after that bad loan news…

I delete what I wrote and replace it with:

I’ll be home in twenty minutes.

In a few seconds he replies.

I’m gonna make you come harder than you ever have before
.

I believe him.

“Girls,” I say reluctantly as I stand up, “I’m gonna have to go.”

“Aww, why?” Cassie says.

“Something’s just come up.”

Lorelei’s face breaks out in a smile.

“I’ll bet it has.”

Cassie and Steph look at her, then look at me with equally suspicious smiles.

“Seriously?”

“No, it’s not like that.”

“Yes it is,” Lorelei says. “Look at her! She’s blushing – she
always
does that when Nate’s coming over.”

“I do not!”

“Go,” Stephanie says. “I forgive you.”

“I don’t,” Lorelei pouts. “It’s not fair. Doesn’t he have a friend for me? Or a clone?”

“Ha-ha. I promise I’ll call you. Each of you. Bye ladies,” I say, shifting my bag onto my shoulder and hurrying out the door as they fall about laughing behind me.

I
drive home like a maniac
, my body already tingling, my panties already wet, my blood already thumping. When I get inside the apartment I take off my jacket, brush my teeth, and use every ounce of mental energy trying
not
to think about Nate’s hard body pinning me down and fucking me. Every second the agony of waiting for him builds up, filling my body with a sensation of anticipation that’s ready to burst the second I hear the doorbell.

After a couple of long, slow breaths, I go to the hallway, put my hand on the doorknob, and swing it open.

Nate looks up at me, a small smile rising on the corner of his lips – in that moment, he’s fucking perfect. But it’s only a moment, because within seconds he’s slammed the door shut behind him, carried me down the hall, and thrown me down onto the bed in my room.

We tear at each other’s clothes like animals in heat, mad with lust. I tear his shirt. He tosses my skirt. His tongue on my breast. My teeth on his bicep. I claw and clasp at his broad back like I’m slipping into an abyss, while he gorges on my neck like a beast. I’m already moaning by the time I feel his stubble move down my abdomen, already enraptured by the prospect of his tongue going lower, lower. Tracing its slow, thrilling route across my navel, below my waist…I moan and cry out, so loud that I almost miss the doorbell.

Nate pulls upright like an alert wildcat, and I open my eyes to see the surprise on his face.

“Lorelei?” he asks in a low whisper.

After a few seconds to stop the dizzying feelings in my mind, I shake my head.

“No. She’ll be with the girls for at least a few more hours.”

The doorbell goes again. Nate’s eyes widen.

“Hold on,” I say, grasping at a sheet and wrapping it around me as I head for the door.

The bell rings a third time just as I peer through the peephole.

Fuck.

It’s Kyle.