My First - Jason & Katie (23 page)

“I’m good. Sophie offered to take everyone home in the Party Bus.”

“Tell her I’mm sooo sorrrry, but I have to go lay down,” Katie said to Chelle.

“I will sweetie,” she answered comfortingly and then, when Katie laid her head back against Jason’s shoulder, Chelle mouthed a grateful “Thank you” to Jason and handed him Katie's purse.

Jason smiled and headed down the back stairs. He didn't want to deal with the comments from drunk assholes who would feel compelled to comment on either – 1) Katie's drunken state, 2) His shirtlessness, or 3) The fact that he was carrying a purse.

He narrowed his eyes as he considered the fact that it was probably also best for all involved if he avoided all possibility of running into the caveman who had thought that Katie was his for the taking. If he was walking through the bar and someone happened to point that dude out to Jason, it wasn't gonna end pretty. He didn't want to ruin Sophie's bachelorette party any more than he had wanted to ruin Bobby's bachelor party.

Not to mention, he needed to focus on Katie right now. She was the one who needed him.

As he carried her limp form down the stairs, her head lolled against him. As she took a deep breath and readjusted, snuggling her head deeper against his neck, she sighed, “My hero...” and then nodded off the sleep.

Jason felt his chest puff out involuntarily, and the most intoxicating mixture of pride, affection, and flat-out lust coursed through his veins at the sound of those words.

He reminded himself that she was drunk, that what she was saying right now didn't mean much. He reminded himself not to let his heart get ahead of his head.

Still.

Hearing those words come out of her mouth...well, it definitely didn't suck!

Katie’s head was spinning as Jason set her in his truck. She tried to clear it as she took in her surroundings. Hmmm his truck. Just thinking about their afternoon made her hot all over.

Wait, she was mad at Jason. But why was she mad at him?

She knew she was really mad but she wasn’t sure why.

He pulled the seatbelt across her body and his knuckles brushed against her nipples. She sucked in a gasp.

Jason stilled for a moment but then clicked the device into place.

She took the opportunity of him stretched across her to breathe him in.

Mmmmm.....

He smelled like aftershave mixed with…with…well musky heat. He smelled like sex.

“You smell good,” She heard herself say in a dreamy tone.

He pulled away from her and shut the door without saying a word.

Well bully on you, she thought as she lifted the collar of his shirt to her nose, I’ll just smell your shirt then.

He opened the driver’s side door and asked, “So do you always drink like this or is this a special occasion?”

Bingo! She remembered why she was mad at him.

“YOU!” She pointed at him.

“Me?” He gave her a strange sideways glance as he pulled out of The Grill parking lot.

“Yes. This is all your fault,” she stated as she crossed her arms in a huff.

“My fault?” Jason repeated in a calm tone.

“Yes if youuu,” She poked his arm, “hadn’t done it with, Kylie, Jill, Tiffany, Lisa…” She was using her fingers to count them.

He cut her off, “Done what with them?”

“IT!” She exclaimed, “We were playing ‘Same-Same, Shoot It-Shoot It’ and everyone answers questions about their ‘experiences’ and if you have the same ones as the girl who answers you have to take a shot,” she finished as if that explained everything.

“OK,” Jason said slowly, “I'm still not following.”

“Well, you did so much in your ‘black Chevy truck’ and everyone just assumed that I would have done all of that stuff with Nick in his truck so they were all staring at me weird, expecting me to 'Shoot It-Shoot It' when they answered! They don’t know Nick wasn’t a big pervert like you!”

“Katie, I never did anything with Lisa, Kylie, Jill or Tiffany. In my truck or out of it.”

“Oh come on, yes you did, only you and Nick had black Chevy trucks!” She shook her head in irritation, and tears started leaking from her eyes.

He was quiet, like he was waiting for her to say something. Good night nurse! She really wished she was clear-headed for this conversation.

He took a turn and her stomach rolled.

“I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Jason turned on the air conditioning and pulled her hair off her neck, gently guiding her so the cold air was blowing directly on her face.

After a few seconds (or maybe it was minutes, she couldn’t really tell) he asked, “Better? Or do I need to pull over?”

Katie’s stomach had settled and she answered, “Better.”

He released her hair and she leaned her head against the passenger side window, enjoying the feel of the cold glass against her flushed skin. Ohhh, that feels so good, she thought as she closed her eyes. Who knew a window could feel so good?

--- ~ ---

Katie had passed out cold on the short drive home. As he pulled up to her Aunt Wendy’s house, he was kicking himself. He knew he should have just kept his mouth shut and let her believe that it was, in fact, him that had done all those dirty deeds in his truck.

He didn’t want Katie to be hurt, for God's sake. But by the same token, he was just about done with everyone thinking that Nick was the ‘golden boy’ and he was the ‘bad boy’ - or even a ‘player’ like his brothers Riley and Alex.

He was especially done with Katie thinking that way.

But, hell. Chances were she wouldn’t even remember this conversation come morning, since she was three sheets to the wind. Maybe even four or five.

As he opened the passenger door she fell into his arms since she had been leaning against the window. She felt so right in his arms. Like she was made to be there.

As he approached the front door, it opened and a sleepy looking Pam stepped out.

“Is she ok?” she asked, her voice filled with concern.

“Yeah, she's fine. She just overdid it on the shots. Sorry if I woke you.”

As she moved aside to let him step into the house, she waved her hand, “Oh no, you didn’t wake me. I was just resting on the couch so I could see my girl when she got home. I miss her so much, I thought, even if we just got a few minutes to visit…”

Jason smiled, “Well unfortunately I don’t think that will be happening tonight.”

Pam smiled back and nodded her head in agreement, “Yep, looks like catch-up time will have to wait. Do you want me to take her?”

Jason shook his head, “No, but if you could make her some toast and grab a few aspirin and a big glass of water and meet us upstairs that would be great.”

“Sure thing, sweetie,” She patted Jason’s arm as she headed off to the kitchen.

Jason had always loved Pam. She was subdued compared to Aunt Wendy, and she wasn't as overly nurturing and aff
ectionate as Nick and Sophie’s mom, Grace. But she had such a quiet strength about her, a solidness. She didn’t get upset easily, and when she did, it was never in an over-reacting sort of way. She was just steady and calm. It had always comforted Jason.

When he reached Katie's bedroom, he laid her down on her bed and smoothed her hair. She murmured something unintelligible and pressed her head into his hand. He pulled her desk chair over to sit next to the bed, keeping watch.

He looked up when he heard Pam entering the room, and then immediately vacated the chair, motioning for her to sit.

Pam smiled, “Well, aren't you just the sweetest.”

Pam sat down in the chair and set the water, dry toast, and aspirin on Katie's nightstand. She gently shook Katie awake and helped her take the aspirin and eat the toast, chuckling at all the nonsensical things Katie was mumbling.

“I admit, I used to tie one on every once in a while, back in my day,” Pam said ruefully, but Jason thought there was a touch of nostalgia in her voice, “Nothing wrong with it if it doesn't become a habit.”

After the perspective he had gained tonight, one of the sole sober wrangler of several very drunk individuals, Jason wasn't so sure. Whatever, he figured, I'm probably just grumpy.

After Pam took her leave, yawning all the while, Jason covered Katie with her blankets and was just about to flip off the lights when he heard her say, “I need your shirt.”

He walked back over to her bedside.

“Katie, honey, you're wearing my shirt,” he said gently.

She looked down at herself and pulled at his button down.

“No,” she said disgustedly, “Not your shirt. I need YOUR SHIRT!”

Jason shook his head at that logic. He was trying to figure out what to say next when she made the very surprising move of pulling his button-down shirt right off over her head.

“Whoa!” he exclaimed, turning his back to her in order to be a gentleman. He wasn't going to ogle her in her impaired condition.

“I need your shirt,” she continued insistently.

OK, so, maybe best to just follow along with her line of logic.

“OK, Katie. Where is the shirt you want me to get for you?”

“Duh! In my suitcase!” she replied, and in her impaired mental state, she was clearly having doubts about his.

He walked over to her suitcase, being very careful not to feast his eyes on her uncovered breasts, as much as he would have loved to indulge in just that under any other circumstance.

As he bent dow
n to unzip her case, he said, “sweetie, how am I going to know which shirt it is you want to sleep in?”

“YOUR shirt!” she continued to insist, “I sleep in it every night...”

He shook his head. She still wasn't making any sense.

He unzipped her case and flipped it open, getting ready to dig through her clothing so that he could just find a comfortable shirt for her to sleep in. He smiled to himself. Even if it was her shirt, and not 'his' – hopefully she'd be satisfied enough with it to settle down and go to sleep.

He was reaching his hand towards her bundle of clothing when he froze, hand in the air. His eyes had alighted on something that his brain was having trouble processing. Was that...? Could it be...?

It was his Def Leppard shirt. The one from sixth grade, the one he had felt so superior in because, while all the sheep he went to school with were wearing boy band t-shirts, he was sporting a vintage rock tee. The one he had taken off and given to Katie that day in the cafeteria.

My God.

Could this be the
shirt she wanted? HIS shirt?

The one she said she slept in every night?

He gathered it up in his hand and extended it towards her, never turning back to look.

“Is this the shirt you want?” he asked quietly, his voice hoarse.

“Yes!” she exclaimed, “YOUR shirt!”

He heard the rustling of her slipping the shirt over her head and getting it situated, and then a few seconds later he heard light snoring coming from her direction.

He turned and watched her for a moment then, all cuddled up in his shirt, sleeping like a baby.

He smiled.

Like a very drunk, and soon to be very hung-over, baby.

But that was fine. She was comfortable for the time being. And what had allowed her to settle down? It was his shirt. That was the only thing that had eased her restlessness.

He smiled wider.

She slept in it every night.

Oh, yes. Any lingering doubts he may have had about whether or not his feelings were reciprocated had been erased in one fell swoop.

This thing with Katie Lawson? It was ON!

Katie felt something on her arms. Shaking her arms. Gently, but still
, it was annoying. She swatted at it. “Noo...” she moaned.

She became a little bit more aware and heard her mother's voice.

“There we are! Good morning, Sunshine! Time to get up.”

Katie cracked her eyes open. Even with the shades fully drawn, the room was far too bright.

“What time is it, Mama?” Katie groaned.

“It's almost 11. I've got to get to work, and you've gotta get on the road pretty soon,” Pam replied.

Katie's eyes flew open. Eleven? Whoa! Sleeping in, to her, was not getting up until 8 am. She couldn't remember the last time she had still been asleep when the double digits rolled around!

She heard Pam laugh and say, “OK, I see that little tidbit's got you wide a
wake. I'm heading out to work, sweetheart. I'll be driving up to the lake after my shift. I probably won't get up there in time for the rehearsal dinner, but I will see you up there tonight.”

Katie nodded, although it was painful, and Pam bent down and kissed her forehead. She heard Pam call out as she was heading for the stairs, “I'll call you on my break, baby – just to make sure you're up and around.”

“Thanks, Mama,” Katie called back weakly.

She lay in bed, trying to remember what happened the night before, even though the mental effort felt like it was driving shards of glass into her brain.