Everybody's After Love (12 page)

I shake my head with another giggle. “No, turn up the radio. I like this song.”

Smitty curses under his breath and moves the volume dial higher. Florida Georgia Line’s
Cruise
fills the car and I sing along, loudly and off key, until he pulls into my driveway. Wiggling out of his car and holding onto the hood, I walk toward the door as Smitty takes my keys from me and lets us inside. I’m still singing as I stagger down my hallway and Smitty laughs behind me.

Once in my bedroom, I peel off my jeans and unhook my bra, pulling it off without ever taking my shirt off. Smitty enters, handing me two Advil and a glass of water. He pulls my sheets back, waiting for me to swallow the pills and crawl into bed. Unfortunately, Smitty’s put me to bed like this one too many times than either of us would like, but likewise, I’ve done the same for him. When I’m all tucked in, snug as a bug in a rug, Smitty sits on the edge of the mattress.

“You really like him. Don’t you?”

“Who?” I ask, playing dumb and rolling my eyes which is now starting to bring on a slight headache.

Ignoring me, Smitty goes on. “Why are you avoiding him?”

I close my eyes, the darkness takes the edge off my pending hangover. “He has a girlfriend,” I say and explain to him what happened.

“This Emmy chick could be anyone, not a girlfriend. A cousin, a co-worker, friend. You shouldn’t jump to conclusions without giving him the benefit of the doubt or better yet, ask him,” Smitty says and I open my eyes.

Ugh
, he’s right. I should be an adult and just ask him. Bentley seems like a good guy, a great guy actually. So, if he had a girlfriend, surely he wouldn’t be acting the way he did with me. But what if he does? What if he’s just a total player? What if—”

Smitty breaks me from my thoughts. “Stop. Listen to me, Julianna. Sometimes in order to let someone have your heart, you have to put it on the line. If you like him, then ask him about it. What’s the worst case scenario? He has a girlfriend? In which case, your brother and I will kick his ass. And the best? Then you can move forward with him, make me find a new back-up,” he says with a grin.

My heart jumps at the thought of being able to try to work things out with Bentley. Isn’t he the one that told me to stop being scared of my past and be ready to move on with my future? What if Bentley is my future?

My eyes start to get heavy and Smitty kisses my forehead before he turns off my light. I hear him close and lock my kitchen door. As I start to drift off to sleep, I decide that I’m going fishing on Sunday to find out the truth.

***

It’s another Friday night but for once I’m not sitting at home, instead I’m at J.P.’s house. It’s obvious that my sister decorated, the sailboats in the brown and purple bathroom give it away. My father and I have been surrounded by sailboats our entire lives as it’s the mascot of both my mother and sister’s sorority. Luckily, I’ve escaped the nautical theme and am enjoying a frosty cold one on their back porch. J.P. flips the steaks on the grill, sending out a loud sizzle which makes my mouth water.

“How do you like your steak?” he asks me.

“Medium is good for me, I’m not too picky,” I respond.

J.P. glances over his shoulder at me. “Jules likes hers rare.”

I lift my eyebrows. “Oh?”

He slowly turns around, closing the lid on the grill. “I like you, Bentley and I think you’re good for my sister so I’m trying to help you out.”

I smile, happy to hear J.P.’s approval and relieved a bit too as Brianna must have filled him in on everything. That’s one obstacle conquered, now I just have to get Jules on the same page, too. I lean forward, elbows on my knees. “Go ahead, I’ll take all the help I can get.”

CHAPTER 13

Seriously? Is someone already mowing their yard at
… I roll over and look at the clock. Seven. One of my neighbors is mowing their yard at seven on a Saturday morning.
Ugh!
I was out way too late last night and I was really looking forward to sleeping in today.

I pull my pillow over my head, hoping to drown out the sound so I can fall back asleep. It doesn’t work and I soon realize it’s not my neighbor mowing, but someone causing the ruckus in my yard. Usually Paulie mows my yard and I’ll cook lunch in exchange, but he’s never come this early. I mean it is almost July in Missouri which means it’s hot and muggy, but seriously, he should’ve given me some kind of heads up. However, I vaguely remember doing body shots last night and Smitty taking pictures so this is probably payback which will be followed up with a lecture of some sorts.

Rolling out of bed in a pair of hot pink boy shorts, a black tank top, and my hair and makeup from the night before, I march down my hallway on a mission. Swinging open the kitchen door, I walk to the bottom of my driveway. I hold my arm over my eyes as the sunlight blinds me and makes my hangover worse, as though that’s even possible. Once my eyes are adjusted, I drop my arm and standing before me is a shirtless, and totally sexy, Bentley. The mower stops and his face slides into that familiar sideways grin.

“Morning, sunshine,” he says as his eyes roam up and down my body.

Mortified, I stand there, not sure what to say or do. My hand moves to my hair as I try to push my bun back into place even though there are tons of flyaways. In the window of my car, I can see I have raccoon eyes and let’s not forget that I’m not wearing a bra either. My cheeks burn red and I finally manage to squeak out, “What are you doing here?”

Bentley walks around the mower, moving toward me and I shift uncomfortably. True, my swimsuit showed more skin than this, but this is my fresh out of bed, haven’t even brushed my teeth—oh my gosh, my teeth! Crossing my arms to cover my braless chest, I move my other hand over my mouth so I don’t have to subject him to the bad odor should he come that close…and he does.

Standing in front of me, a hot sweaty mess that does more to my hormones than it should, his hands move to my waist as his eyes still move over my body. My fingers still hiding my mouth, his dimple appears and he says, “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

My hands go to my hips, I try to take a step back so I don’t knock him out with my dragon breath, but his hands grip me tightly, not allowing me to move. His finger runs under my jaw and he tips my chin up to look at him.

“I’m mowing.”

Rolling my eyes, a bad idea as it makes my head hurt even more, I say, “Obviously, but why?”

“The grass was getting kind of long,” he says without so much as cracking a smile.

I take a deep breath and look down. Frustration taking over me. Frustrated he won’t give me a real answer. Frustrated he’s here. I sigh. Frustrated that I don’t want him to leave. Looking back into his eyes, they soften as I see he’s trying to read my thoughts.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks softly.

I bite my lip, tears stinging my eyes, unsure how to answer. Sure, I could call him out on it. Tell him I know about his girlfriend and make things totally awkward between us or I could let it slide, be friends with the man and have fun. Well, not the kind of fun I normally have, but just enjoy his company for the next few months. I mean, after the wedding in September, our encounters will surely dwindle away. Too afraid to speak, I slowly shake my head. Bentley’s right hand squeezes my hip while the other cradles my cheek.

“Let me finish mowing and then I’ll fix you breakfast,” he says and presses his lips to my forehead.

My arms move around his body and we stand in my driveway in a tense embrace. His light chest hair brushes my cheek as I lean my head against his chest. His hands move up and down my back slowly. This feels so comfortable, like I’m meant to be here in his arms. Confident that the tears are gone since I got my sweet Bentley fix that I needed, I lean back wiping my wet cheek from his sweaty chest.

“Yuck!” I say, scrunching up my nose.

I smile as I hear his deep chuckle, falling back into that vulnerable spot I know I should stay away from. “You hugged me, that’s all I’m saying,” he says, holding up his hands.

Shaking my head and laughing, it hits me that I don’t have any breakfast food in my house other than a box of Pop-Tarts. “Umm… breakfast might be a little tough, I need to go grocery shopping,” I admit. Not to mention that I still shop like a college student living on Ramen noodles and Red Bull.

Taking my chin in his fingers, his dimple appears again and he reassures me, “No worries, Jules. I brought some stuff over in my cooler.”

He walks back to the mower and pulls the cord making it roar back to life. Bentley makes a couple of passes in the grass and I watch him like a lovestruck teenager until I realize I’m still standing in my driveway in my underwear. Glancing up, Bentley meets my eyes and gives me a wink. My body thunders at this simple gesture and I head inside before my neighbors see me in my skivvies.

Safely in my bedroom, I pick up my jeans I wore last night and fish out my phone. Hitting my ICE contact, I wait for Paulie to pick up as I pace back and forth. It’s the fourth ring when he finally answers.

“Good morning, Julianna,” he says and I know he was waiting on me to call.

“Why is Bentley mowing my grass… at seven in the morning?”

“It was getting long,” he says with a laugh. I let out a scream, forgetting about my dull headache and making my brother laugh more. “Relax, Jules. He found out I was going to do it today and offered to take care of it for me.”

Mmhmm, like I believe that.
“You never mow my yard in the morning.”

He laughs and I hear Bri talking in the background. “Yeah, well, I received some pictures last night and figured you might need an early morning wake-up call. I gotta go, Jules. Call me if you need anything.”

I toss the phone on the bed and lay back, a smile spreading across my face. As much as I was trying to avoid him, I can’t deny that I’m glad he sought me out. It’s my summer, no work, no school, and I should be living it up, but for some reason, a reason named Bentley, I haven’t gotten back in the dating scene ever since Kevin and I broke up. Maybe Emmy wasn’t his girlfriend… or maybe she was, I don’t know, but I’m going to stop fighting him and just let it happen.

Excited to face the day with Bentley, I take a quick shower and throw on something more than just my nightwear. Following the scent of bacon, I walk to the kitchen in a worn, fitted Cardinals shirt and a pair of khaki shorts. My hair, still damp, hangs over my shoulders. With a loud growl, my stomach greets the chef before I can.

Cracking eggs into a bowl, Bentley turns his head and lifts his eyebrow. With a laugh, he says, “Guess you’re hungry?”

Red creeping over my face, I shrug. “Maybe a little.”

Wiping his hands on a dish towel, he walks over and takes my hand leading me to the kitchen table. Then he moves to his cooler sitting by the stairs and pulls out a can of Coke. Popping the top, he sets it in front of me.

“Heard through the grapevine that you’re not much of a coffee drinker. Sip this and it should help your hangover,” he instructs before turning back to finish cooking. “Greasy bacon and eggs will be done in a few minutes to help cure it, too.”

I pull my knee up to my chest as I sip the soda and watch him move around my kitchen. Wearing tan cargo shorts and a t-shirt with the sides cut down to the waistband, I can still enjoy that sculpted back of his. He whistles while the bacon sizzles in the skillet and he scrambles the eggs. This is the most action my kitchen has ever seen since I’ve lived here.

“Let me guess…Florida Georgia Line?” I comment with a quirked eyebrow.

Glancing over his shoulder, he nods with a grin. “You’re a fast learner,” he says and places a plate of deliciousness in front of me.

“Mmm…” I moan and dig in. My stomach grumbles its appreciation as well, which allows me to see Bentley’s dimple again. This is definitely the best hangover cure I’ve ever had.

I’ve already inhaled my plate while Bentley sits across the table chewing on a piece of bacon. As I reach for another piece, I notice him watching me closely and I start to pull back my hand. His fingers pick up the last piece of pork and he hands it to me.

“Ready to tell me why I haven’t seen you in a month?”

I shove the bacon in my mouth to stall as my cheeks burn up. Chewing as slow as I possibly can, thoughts run wild in my mind and I’m too hungover to even come up with a lame excuse. His hand slides across the table and takes mine in his, interlocking our fingers. He gently pulls my hand and I stand up, walking around the table and he drags me into his lap.

“I’m not sure what I did to scare you off, but next time let me know because the last thing I want is to send you running,” he says as he pushes my hair out of my face.

If the words had been spoken by any other man, I would’ve already been gone. My stomach flip flops as I inhale his woodsy scent and nod.

“I really like you, Jules,” he says confidently, not taking his eyes off me although I’m trying my best to avert my eyes.