Foolproof (12 page)

Chapter Twenty-Three

Jules

His teeth raking across my neck sent shivers coursing through my body. I needed to stay one step ahead of him, though. He was getting all sentimental, like he was saying good-bye to this town, and I wanted to give him a reason to stay. Even if only for a few more weeks. Why? A self-centered part of me wanted to hold on to what we’d started, not letting the pending future plans suck away the happiness of our current arrangement. The other part? There was a slight possibility I was falling for this guy, even though every neuron in my messed up brain screamed
No, girl. Don’t you dare do that!
The same thing I always shouted when I watched horror flicks where the girl stupidly went down in the basement alone, right to the ax murderer. Hopefully my dating life wouldn’t end up like those girls—slashed and gutted. “Is all this fishing finally getting to you? A little rusty?”

“My fishing skills are far from rusty.”

“Caught a bigger fish than your rod can handle?”

“As you’ve already seen, my rod is more than capable.” To emphasize, he grinded his erection into my hip. Between the demonstration the other night and the massive bulge in his black athletic shorts, he wasn’t bluffing. The space between my thighs ached for him to show me exactly what he planned to do.

He unzipped my jacket, placing kisses along the skin exposed around my tank top. Goose bumps cascaded over my body, and I shuddered from his featherlight touch. His warm hands slid underneath my top, smoothing over my stomach, brushing my belly button ring. He stopped there and lifted my tank top to look at it.

“Cherries. How fitting.”

I shifted and fingered the piercing. “Yeah? How so?”

“Sweet and delicious. Just like you.” He ran his tongue along the perimeter of my belly button and a shudder wracked through me.

He climbed off me and fished something out of his pocket. I took full advantage of his cute butt as he bent over. I stretched my leg and used my toes to pull down his board shorts. Something multicolored peeked out the top of his shorts, and he quickly moved away and pulled up the fabric.

“What is that?”

“Nothing. A bruise,” he muttered

I lifted my brow. “Last time I checked, a bruise isn’t green and pink.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Then let me see.”

He let out a loud sigh and turned around, pulling the material down and exposing his left ass cheek. In all its glory was a baseball sized tattoo of a unicorn puking a rainbow. A unicorn. Fricken puking a rainbow.

“What the hell is that?” I couldn’t help the hysterical giggle that bubbled up.

He pulled his shorts back up and sat down on the padded bench. “Everyone on the soccer team has it. It’s part of our initiation.”

The whole soccer team had pukey rainbow unicorn tattoos? It made it even more hysterical to think a bunch of muscular dudes had something so ridiculous on their asses. How had I not seen Ryan’s before, in the shower?

He sighed. “Go on, get it out of your system.”

I tried to tamp down the fit of giggles that threatened to explode. Obviously this was something he wasn’t proud of. I needed to be nice. “I’m speechless.”

“That’s a first.”

I kicked his calf. “Hey now.”

“I don’t think I like this side of you.” He slid beside me in the seat and cupped my face.

“Yeah? What side do you like?”

“I like it when you scream. Preferably my name.”

He slid my jacket off, and I raised my arms up as he pulled my shirt over my head. I looked around, no one on the bay yet. Our boat had drifted near the shore, effectively hidden by a tree if anyone happened to pass by. He guided me down until my back was against the seat and pushed aside my bikini top. My nipples hardened as they were exposed to the cool morning air. His crystal blue gaze set my veins on fire.

His lips glided down my side and stopped just above my hipbone. He sucked on my skin, nipping at the flesh hard enough to know I’d have a mark. “This is a reminder for later.”

His tongue ran along the lining of my shorts and he looked up, his eyes silently asking permission. I raised my hips, and he slid off my shorts and bikini bottom. My butt pressed into the cool vinyl as his fingers skimmed the inside of my thighs, teasing, each time stopping before he brushed against my spot. His mouth moved inches from me, and he blew a cool breath over my center. My hips bucked, begging for contact. Shit, if I was this close without him touching me, I was in trouble. I looked at him, an appreciative smile on his lips. He ran his tongue across his bottom lip. “You sure you want this? We could just go back to fishing.”

“I will snap that rod in half if you don’t continue.”

“Bossy.”

I raked my hands through his hair, tugging at the ends. “You just wait. Payback’s a bitch.”

“My rod looks forward to it.”

A retort died on my lips, replaced with a moan, as Ryan ran his tongue across my center. His arms were on the inner sides of my legs, pushing, spreading me wider. My back arched as heat built between my legs. My thighs shook as he placed a finger inside me, curving up, hitting my spot like I’d given him a map leading straight to my O-zone.

He slipped his finger out and moved to hover above me. Our gazes connected, the skin around his eyes creasing in the corner as he smiled, sending goose bumps cascading down my arms. For a split second, I was convinced we could make this work, that everyone else around us, his pending move, didn’t matter. That he felt so much more than we both agreed on. I’d give anything to ask him
do you feel it, too? Please, tell me it’s not just me.
Instead, I worked his shorts off his body. He grabbed a condom off the seat, ripped it open, and slid it over his erection. Moving back to his position above me, he stared into my eyes as he slowly entered my center. Something about this time was different. His pace slowed down. A complete one-eighty from the fevered fuck session in the bathroom. He smoothed his hand down my cheek and his intense gaze liquefied my insides.

“I’m a lucky bastard.” He leaned down and planted tender kisses along my jaw, eventually making his way to my lips.

Being with him left me breathless, like I had been underwater for minutes and broke past the surface, taking the first gulp of fresh air. The way his fingers lightly skimmed down my neck and the way his eyes softened as regarded me—it took me higher, a lightness I’d never felt before.

I wrapped my legs around his back, and he closed his eyes, shuddering underneath my touch. I worked my fingers down his neck to his back, running over every hardened muscle that flexed as he thrust into me. We found our releases together, my name exhaled on his breath, floating across the breeze on the bay.

We lay on the seat, his arm curled around me, pulling me into his body. The summer sun bathed my skin in delicious warmth. If I could put my life on pause, I’d keep it on this moment, the soft rocking of the boat, the smooth muscles of his arms and chest, the tiny kisses he pressed into my forehead.

“I don’t want to go back to the house.”

“You can stay at my apartment if you want.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I can’t put you out like that. I’ll crash with Blake for a few days. If I have to witness another pissing match between Gary and my dad, I don’t think I’ll survive.”

I examined my reddened skin, cursing myself for not applying sunscreen before I left. “Well, we’d better head back sometime soon or else I’m going to turn crispy.” I pulled the rods into the boat as Ryan got up from the seat and started the ignition. He turned the wheel, steering us toward the docks.

Ryan behind the wheel of a boat was utterly sexy. Something about his tanned skin, sun-bleached hair, and swim trunks slung low on his hips had my insides bungled up, tangled in one massive ball of goo. He seemed more at ease in nature, his muscles relaxed, smiling more often. The same expression he had when we took that midnight beach trip. At Office Jax, he wore the same look I did when I had to endure rehab. Complete agony. It would be such a waste if he looked that unhappy all the time.

He motored up to the dock, and an attendant helped us tie up the boat. As we walked with our gear along the shoreline toward the parking lot, a group of teens, probably around sixteen or so, were smoking and flicked a cigarette butt on the ground, not bothering to stomp it out as they made their way to the docks.

Ryan tensed and let go of my hand. “Hey, pick up your garbage.”

One of the girls arched her brow, a look that rivaled Payton’s death glare.

He pointed to the smoldering cigarette. “You know how many wildfires start that way? Don’t be irresponsible. Pick up your shit.”

“Fine, dude.” A guy in Hawaiian board shorts picked up the butt, tamped it out, and threw it into a nearby garbage can.

“Look at you, Smokey.” I gave him a playful shove once the teens walked off in the other direction.

“It pisses me off when people don’t take care of our earth. We only get one.”

Wow. Ryan was a hot Captain Planet. “Have you ever thought about a job outdoors?”

“Like what? A river guide or something?”

“No, like fish and wildlife protection. One of my friends is in the program at Drexler, and he loves the outdoors.”

He shook his head, still staring at the teens as they made their way along the docks. “It never really crossed my mind.”

“You could wear those little brown shorts. Maybe flash the unicorn to unsuspecting victims.”

“Yeah.” He nudged my shoulder. “I could stun them into submission.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Ryan

“Can I use your computer?”

“Sure, what’s up?” Blake handed me his laptop and sat down on his daybed.

“Wanted to check out something before I forget.” I’d done some research on my phone after I’d dropped Jules off at her apartment. She was right—fish and wildlife protection sounded like a great fit. If I could have a career in the outdoors, space where I could breathe, the future didn’t seem as daunting. I pulled up the Humboldt Bay Fish and Wildlife Services website and clicked through the tabs until I found what I was looking for. Internships. It said they took on interns year-round; all I had to do was fill out an application and submit.

“You doing okay lately?”

I swiveled in the office chair to face him. “Not really.”

“Sorry, dude. I’ve been so busy and—”

“I understand.” I did. If I had someone I loved as much as Blake loved Payton, I’d want to spend every waking moment with her, too. In fact, there was someone who streamed through my thoughts more than any girl had in a long time. One who gave me a little more faith that dating wasn’t a fucked up WWE match.

I stared back at the application. “Do you think I’d be any good at fish and wildlife protection?”

Blake nodded his head, his eyes zoning out. “It’d make sense. You always loved being on the water. Why?”

“Just thought it might be a good option.”

“Better than the academy.” He shook his head. When I’d brought up my plan with him at the beginning of the summer, he told me I was an idiot, that I shouldn’t throw my life away to the police force. He didn’t get it, though. Mr. Pediatrician had a life plan, I didn’t. So I was forging my own path, even if it was something I didn’t entirely want.

But this idea of fish and wildlife protection sparked something in me—it made me excited for the first time about my future. Something I knew I could do, without wanting to run my car off a cliff.

“You go boating today? Is that what made you think of wildlife protection?”

“Yeah, with Jules.”

“How did that go?”

I shrugged. “Good.” Better than good. “Did you know she fishes?”

“No.” He flipped through a men’s fitness magazine. “Did she freak out when she had to bait a hook?”

“Dude. She fucking asked
me
if I wanted her to bait my hook.”

“I think you’ve met your match.”

“She’s something.”

Within a few weeks of knowing me, she’d been able to point out something I’d be good at, something I’d enjoy. She didn’t treat me like I was a worthless dipshit. If I were ready to right my capsized relationship issues, she’d be the person at the top of my list. Maybe there could be an “us” someday if I got that internship at Humboldt. Our ticking time clock would disappear, and we could work on something more.

I finished filling out the application to Humboldt and clicked send. If I could catch a break and get an internship, maybe this would get Dad off my back. The Option C I’d been waiting for. Then again, if I didn’t get it—or worse, if it turned out like every other career avenue I’d gone down—a dead end, then I’d get my hopes up for nothing. But it was a risk I was willing to take.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Jules

“How are you doing today?” Dr. Ahrendt looked at me over her black-framed glasses.

I smiled and bounced my toes on the ground, barely able to contain the giddiness that had taken over my entire body. “For once, I can honestly say I’m great.”

She smiled and scribbled something on her notepad. “You look happy. What’s brought this on?”

“I met someone.” I fiddled with my nail, waiting for her response.

“That’s great.”

I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “It’s kind of complicated.”

She took off her glasses and set them on the table, her brown eyes studying me. “How so?”

“We decided to keep it purely physical, but I don’t know. I think it’s turning into something more.”

“Is that what you want?”

Was it? I told Ryan a no-strings relationship was what I’d wanted. “I think so. It just makes me nervous.” Like if this went further, I’d have to eventually introduce him to my snotty parents who’d make him feel like gum on their Italian leather shoes. He did not need my family baggage unloaded on him.

“Why?”

“What if things get serious and my parents don’t like him?”

“Do you really want your parents dictating your life?”

Too late.
“No.” I picked at my nail polish, a fleck of pink shooting to the floor. “But I don’t want to disappoint them, either.”

“And you think this guy will disappoint them?”

“No. I don’t know. Maybe?” I couldn’t come up with the right words to explain my parents. “They’re weird. Ever since the thing with Eric, they expect me to be perfect, and I can only imagine that would include having the perfect boyfriend.” One who drove expensive sports cars, had a trust fund, and a degree from an Ivy League school.

Dr. Ahrendt frowned. “That’s no way to live. Have you talked to them about this?”

I scoffed. “They’d just be disappointed in me, even if it doesn’t make sense. I always find a way to disappoint them.”

“Maybe you should. If anything, it’d make you feel better.”

Right. Making them angry was the opposite of what I’d want to do.

“Jules?” Her use of my name pulled me out of my thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“It’s not up to your parents, or anyone for that matter, to decide your worth. Only you can determine that.”

Baloney. If that were the case, how come it hurt so bad to disappoint the ones I loved so much? I wanted to believe Dr. Ahrendt, but the words just didn’t ring true. They couldn’t. Not when all I craved was for someone to tell me
good job
or even
I’m proud of you.
But instead I got a huge
you’re not good enough
and
why can’t you have an ounce of Eric’s creativity?

Dr. Ahrendt tapped her pen on her desk as she examined me. “I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but you are the key to your own happiness.”

I raised my brow and chewed on my lip, tamping down what I really wanted to say:
easy for you to say
. She was young, successful, and already had a hubby. Happiness probably followed her around in a Mickey cloud above her head.

“Just try to keep that in mind.”

Yeah, sure. I’d keep that in mind as I trudged my way toward a degree I didn’t want, further away from a career I’d love. God, how did I go from giddy to woe is me in ten minutes? Ryan was my saving grace in all this, and I needed to hold on to that feeling for as long as possible. I managed to steer our conversation to the fishing trip I’d taken with Ryan—omitting the sex—for the remainder of the appointment.

As soon as our session ended, I booked it out of her office. Payton’s text buzzed through when I descended the steps of the building.

P:
Party tonight at the frat. U coming?

J:
Hells yeah.

I hadn’t been to a party since I went to rehab. Drinking wasn’t an issue for me, it never was. Even so, I figured it was probably safer to stay away from that atmosphere as I worked on my issues. With Andrew gone, it wasn’t likely that anyone would know about what had happened the last time I was there—the day I decided to get help.

I’d woken up on Andrew and Blake’s daybed , my panties lost in the abyss of red Solo cups and food wrappers, hickeys all over my neck and chest. Sleeping with Andrew was an all-time low. Making that ten-minute walk of shame was enough of a reality slap to push me to tell my parents. Even if Andrew did brag to his friends that we’d slept together, I didn’t think that would be a big deal with them. A lot of girls did the walk of shame from the A-Sig house.

I repeated this as I showered, rinsing off the sunshine, sunscreen, and scent of Ryan that was still etched on my body from yesterday. It wasn’t a big deal anymore. We both knew where we stood—for now, purely physical. I could deal with that if it meant seeing the corner of his mouth tick up in a smile, his baby blues melt my insides like a convection oven, and our easy back and forth potshots, the sexy banter I knew he loved—and, if I admitted to myself—I loved as well.

After toweling off, I went to my room and raided my closet for something to wear tonight. Twenty tank tops and skirts later, I settled on a pink halter and cute skirt. Payton came into the room dressed in shorts and a ratty T-shirt.

Before I could say anything, she raised her hand. “Yes, I’m wearing this.”

I sighed. The girl had so much potential. Stick her in a midriff-baring top and some formfitting denim with diamond studded pockets and she’d be breaking necks. If she wanted to be fashionably challenged, I guess that was her deal.

“How are things going with you and Ry?”

I fingered my ear piercings and shifted my gaze to the mound of clothes on the floor. “Good. A little confusing, but I really like him.”

“I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks.”

Payton played with a curl, twirling it around her finger, and stared absentmindedly at my dresser. “He really is a nice guy, he’s just…like an annoying younger brother.”

“A hot brother.” I laughed.

She scoffed, her face puckering. “Gross.”

After a few seconds of silence, I cleared my throat. “Question.”

“Yeah?”

“Did you always know you wanted to be a doctor?”

Her whole face lit up when she said, “Since I was six. Why?”

“Just wondering if this is something I really want to be doing.” I’d known I wanted to work in sports when my dad brought me to a Seahawks game for my tenth birthday. The quarterback took a nasty tackle and was down for the count. When I saw the athletic trainers check him out, make sure he was okay, I’d known I wanted to do that. Be close to the action and help people. It was the best of both worlds.

We walked into the living room, Payton kicking on her sandals while I strapped on my heels.

“Is Ryan rubbing off on you? He’s the King of I Don’t Know.”

I shook my head. Payton didn’t know jack about his situation. He at least was trying to find something he was passionate about. I was the one taking the coward’s way out.

“I’d appreciate it if you’d stop ragging on him. He’s a good guy—hold on.” My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and checked the screen. “I need to take it.”

Mom. Daily check-in time. I tucked Dr. Ahrendt’s words in the back of my mind, ready to pull them out if Mom started her guilt-trip routine.

Walking to my room, I answered the call. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hello, Juliette. How are you today?” Her tone was brisk, no-nonsense.

“Fine. And you?”

“Good. Have you looked into any of your classes for next semester? I was looking on their site and it appears as if you’ll have a very full load.”

I gritted my teeth. How could I possibly be the key to my own happiness as Dr. Ahrendt suggested when my happy meter directly correlated with how often I talked to my parents? “No, Mom. I’m a sucktastic daughter who aims to disappoint.”
Whoa.
Where did that come from? Wherever it did, it felt good, like I had gained a little bit of power back.

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry, Mom. Just been a rough day.”

Her breath huffed into the phone. “Eric would never dream of addressing me in that manner.”

“Yeah, well Eric’s in jail.”

“I’m well aware. And I’d like to keep it to only one child in prison.”

“I’ll make sure to swallow my crack if I get pulled over by the police,” I deadpanned.

“How did I raise such a rude daughter?”

I knocked my phone against my forehead a few times and took a calming breath. What was wrong with me? Being mean to my mom ranked up there with kicking puppies. “Mom—I’m sorry.”

“Yes, I’m sure you are. I see we have nothing to talk about tonight. Stay out of trouble, Juliette.”

“Yep. Love you. Bye.” I hung up the phone and closed my eyes. I wished I could say her remarks didn’t slither under my skin, but I’d be full of it. How could she think I really sucked as a daughter? I mean, did I? I did everything she always told me to do, and the one time I push back, she pulled that. I repeated Dr. Ahrendt’s mantra.
I am the key to my own happiness.
Ha. Looked like my personal mantra lock was busted.

I parked my Subaru in the parking lot at a quarter to ten. I needed to get this Mom-phone-call-funk out of my system, and being in a place too loud to even think clearly was the perfect escape. The bass thumped through the house, and my senses went on high alert. My body instinctively swayed to the beat as we made our way to the side door. It was propped open with a brick, no bouncer in sight. During the school year, the doors were manned by the fraternity guys, usually freshmen, making sure random people didn’t creep into the house. During the summer not as many people were on campus, and most people didn’t wander down Greek row if they weren’t college students.

The dance floor was packed, sweaty girls grinding on guys. Spilled beer sloshed onto my sandals as I walked the perimeter of the dance floor with Payton, looking for Ryan. Most likely he’d be with Blake. The beat of the song bounced through my ribcage. Normally, I’d dance all night, only stopping to sip beer and flirt with the guys, but tonight I’d rather hang out in one of the guys’ rooms, someplace where I could actually have a conversation without having to shout over the music but still be inundated in the party atmosphere.

Payton grabbed my hand and led me over to the far wall where Ryan and Blake were talking and drinking out of red Solo cups.

Ryan’s gaze met mine and his lips pulled into a smile. “Long time no see.” That grin ignited a fire in my veins.

I still couldn’t believe he had a unicorn tattoo on his ass. I shouldn’t find that sexy, but having something so stupid inked permanently on his skin made me fall a little more. Not that I was falling.
Just fun, no feelings.

What a load of horseshit. The more I got to know him, the faster that sentiment dissolved.

I bumped his arm, his warm skin brushing against mine. He reached for my hand and laced our fingers together, sending my heart into overdrive. I swallowed and ignored the pulse that hammered in my ears. “How’s that bruise doing?”

He squeezed my hand and whispered, “Ready to be flashed to innocent bystanders.”

“Want to play some beer pong in the room?” Blake said, curling his arm around Payton.

Ryan looked at me, raising his brow.

I shrugged. “Sure, sounds good to me. I’ll play with water, though. Losing team pays for munchies at the Super E.” I could really go for some Oreos right about now. Payton thought she was being sneaky by stealing from my stash at home, but I knew whenever she did because she never closed the container all the way. Whatever. I snuck some of her chocolate-covered coffee beans, so I figured we were even.

We walked to Blake’s room, a plywood table painted gold and blue set up in the middle of the room, taking up the majority of the space. He grabbed a set of plastic cups from his closet, along with beer and a bottle of water from the mini fridge.

He said, “Boys versus girls or couples?”

I snuck a glance at Ryan. He didn’t seem to flinch at the word. I’d mark that down in the progress column.

Ryan said, “Couples sounds good. You ready to kick some ass?”

“Hells to the yeah.” I cracked my knuckles. I sucked a big one at beer pong, but he’d find that out soon enough.

He put his arm around me. “That’s my girl.”

If I could make a soundtrack of those words and listen to them on repeat, my heart would go into cardiac arrest from palpitations.

Ryan lined ten cups in formation, and Blake followed suit on his side of the table. I filled the cups with beer and water, then tossed the cans in Blake’s overflowing trash. After winning the throw-off, Ryan tossed me the ball.

I lined up my shot and said, “Better be good at this, DeShane. I’m definitely not going to be the one carrying this team.” To make my point, my ball bounced off the cup and landed in Blake’s laundry hamper.

“My heart will go on if we lose.”

I smiled as Ryan lined up his shot. Joking around never got old with him. The best part was, it never felt forced, something that I always struggled with when I’d dated other guys. Either they didn’t get my humor or they couldn’t keep up. Ryan and I were completely in sync.

Blake and Payton gave each other an odd look, probably wondering why Ryan had brought Celine Dion into a conversation about beer pong. But that was our thing, not something the golden couple would understand. I bumped him with my hip and bit my lip.

“Nah, I think we have a good chance. You’re pretty fly for a white guy.”

“Does that make you my American Woman?” Ryan took a shot and missed, the ball bouncing off the table.

I rolled my eyes, fighting a smile. “Head in the game, DeShane.”

“I can promise you sex and candy if we lose.”

“What if we win?”

Before he could answer, a couple of Blake’s fraternity brothers walked into his room—more like stumbling—and leaned against the wall. A wave of beer wafted in with them.

“Smells like teen spirit in here,” Ryan murmured in my ear.

I bit back a laugh and sipped my cup of water.

“Hey, guys,” Blake called from across the table.