Part of Me (Jessa & Paxton #1) (11 page)

BOOK: Part of Me (Jessa & Paxton #1)
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“Lucky for me, that’s not true. Another pro to never ever needing a man – I don’t have to cook for anyone.”

“What’s your plan? You gonna starve to death?”

“I don’t mind eggs with shells in them,” I mutter.

“So fucking stubborn,” he laughs before backing away from me and throwing his spoon in the sink. “Carry on, woman, make me my eggs.”

I turn to him. He’s leaned against the counter now, his arms propped
on it, his legs crossed in front of him. “These are my eggs and I’m only gonna let you have some if you shut up,” I tell him, opening the milk and dumping some in. I really have no clue what I’m doing. Paxton is snickering behind me so I assume something is going wrong in my bowl. I throw some cheese in and grab the salt and pepper and add that to the mix.

I turn
, in search of something to mix it with and see Paxton standing there with a whisk in his hand. “That shit’s gonna be awful, beso,” he tells me with a smug look on his face.

I
ignore his comment, grab the whisk and mix my eggs together. I throw my whisk down and Pax comes to peer over my shoulder. “What?”

“Those yellow thing
s floating around in there… those are the yolks, you gotta break them.” He grabs the whisk off the counter and traps me between him and my bowl again as he starts beating my eggs to death.

“Jesus, when did you become such an egg snob?” I mutter.

“They’re called scrambled eggs kid… you gotta scramble them.” He backs away from the bowl and asks me, “What’s next?”

“I don’t know,” I say, looking down at my now even, frothy eggs.

“You gotta cook ‘em.”

“Jesus, Pax. I know that.” I grab a pan out of the cupboard and throw it on the stove,
turning the burner up to high and pouring my eggs in. “Is that good?” I ask him.

“No,
it’s not but I think I’ll let you figure it out.”

I give him a tight smil
e before mimicking his position, leaning against the counter, legs crossed in front of me.

“Didn’t your mom ever give you any l
essons in the kitchen?” he asks with a smirk on his face.

“No
, actually, she didn’t.” My mom’s only purpose in life after my dad left was to keep the house running smoothly. All she did was cook and clean. She didn’t need me stepping on her toes. “Apparently your mom spent hours of her life training you in the art of egg making.”

“Not even close. I’ve been cooking for myself since I was six. I got tired of eating sandwiches three times a day.” Paxton’s face is still amused, but what the hell is that about?

“Why were you cooking for yourself when you were six?” I ask, genuinely curious… and a little concerned.

Of course
he doesn’t answer though, just looks at the stove. “You got a problem, beso.”

“Oh shit,” I mutter, looking at the smoke coming off my pan. And that’s all I can do is look. “Pax, help. What do I do?”

“Ask nicely,” he tells me.

“Pretty please, egg master, help me.”

Paxton reaches over and removes the pan from the stove before tuning the temperature down. He grabs a spatula then sets the pan back on the burner, stirring the eggs around until the cooked chunks are mixed with the milky ones. “You are a shit show in the kitchen, beso.”

“Well thank God you’re here now. I want lasagna for dinner.”

“I’m not one of your bitch boys, Jessa,” he tells me, his back turned to me, an edge to his voice.

“One of my bitch boys?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talkin’ about,” he says, turning the burner off and grabbing a couple of bowls, throwing the eggs in them and handing me one. “I did what I could but these are some sloppy fucking eggs.”

I go to the counter and eat what Paxton has accurately described as sloppy eggs. “They are delicious,” I tell him.

“It’s pretty hard to fuck up eggs,” he says from across the counter where he’s eating.

When I’m finished
Paxton grabs my bowl and throws it in the sink. “Are we done now? Can we get back to our TV watching?” he asks but he doesn’t really care about my answer because he comes around to me, plucks me off my stool and carries me to the couch, throwing me down before wrapping me back up in his arms.

“This is going to be so much fun, having you here to boss me around,” I tell him.

“Am I fucking up your plans, keeping you from church? You know you want to sit around here all day with me.”


Yeah, I kinda do,” I admit, snuggling into his chest, grabbing the blanket from the back of the couch and covering us up.

My phone, which was left on the coffee table after we got home from the bar last night
, starts to ring. I pick it up and look at Dylan’s name flashing on the screen. “Shit,” I mutter before answering it. “Hey, Dylan,” I say through a long breath.

“Hi, Jessa.
I’ve been stopping by your place but you’re never around. Will just told me that Taylor thinks you moved out. Is that true?”


Yeah, it is,” I tell him, annoyed. At some point he’s going to have to realize that my life is no longer his business. At some point I’m going to have to stop worrying about hurting his feelings and stop answering his calls.

“Why did you do that? Where are you living?”

“I moved in with Violet because it was easier than living in the dorm. The girls there don’t love me.”

“I’m sorry about that. I tried to tell them things were cool with us, that there was nothing to be mad about.”

“Thanks,” I mutter. “None of that matters now.”

“Where does she live?” he asks me.

“Why do you want to know?”

“I don’t know… I mean
, maybe I could stop by and visit you - check the place out?”

Oh, hell no.
“Listen, Dylan, I think that it’s best for both of us if we take a break from the phone calls and home visits for a little while.” Dylan is silent on the other end of the line. When the silence becomes uncomfortable I say, “I’m sure I’ll see you around campus, okay?”

“So
you don’t want me calling you anymore?”


I think it would make things easier, for both of us.”

“So you’re just gonna cut me out of your life completely?” he stammers.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying. I just don’t think there’s any reason we need to be talking to each other right now.”

“That’s great
, Jessa. I move to Chicago to be with you, a month later you break up with me, then you move out of the dorm and now you’re not even gonna talk to me?”

I
take a deep breath. He’s right- it’s not fair to him. But I can’t keep doing this with him. “I’m sorry Dylan – about everything,” I tell him for at least the hundredth time. “I didn’t plan this. I shouldn’t have started dating you- it was wrong of me. But it’s over now and I just want you to move on because clearly I’m never doing the whole boyfriend thing again.”

“What about the friend thing? Are you doing that
anymore?”

“You want to be my friend?”

“Yeah, Jessa, I do. I mean if that’s all you’re going to give me it’s fine. I’ll take it.”

“I mean… yeah, Dylan,
I can be your friend but I’m gonna need a little time. I need a break from everything for a while.” 

“God, you are unbelievable
,” he seethes before the line goes dead.

I let out a long breath and throw the phone back on the coffee table. “Jesus.”

Paxton laughs.

“This is funny, huh?” I ask him.

“No, not really. What you do to those guys is not funny.”

“Those guys?” I stutter. “There is only one of those guys, and
trust me, he will be the last. And who the hell are you to talk? I don’t see you dating anyone. In fact, I’ve never even heard you talk about anyone. All I’ve heard are all the stories of the multiple girls you’ve slept with. Have you ever had a girlfriend?” I ask him incredulously.

“You’re a girl, Jess. Aren’t you supposed to want to fall in love and get married and all that shit?”

“Why the hell would you say that? You know I don’t want any of that.”

“Why not?”

“What the hell? Are you trying to push me back into Dylan’s arms now? I thought he was a pussy.”

“That kid is a pussy. I’m talking about finding someone who can handle your crazy ass. Someone you can fall in love with.”

“Jesus, Pax, when did you get so sappy? No, I don’t want to fall in love. There’s not a guy out there I can fall in love with.”

“Bullshit,” he mutters.

I sit up out of his arm now so I can look at him. “Why is that bullshit?”

“Everyone falls in love, Jess. It’s unavoidable.”

“Really? Then tell me Pax-
tell me about all of the women you have fallen in love with.”

“Chill out, kid,” he tells me, pulling me back down to his side. “You don’t gotta get so worked up about everything.”

“Whatever,” I mutter, grabbing the remote from his hand and turning the channel.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“If I’m going to sit here all day we are going to watch an actual show.”

“Shit,” he mutters, slouching further into the couch, propping his feet on the coffee table and pulling my legs over his lap.

When I come across
Teen Mom
I throw the remote on the table and settle into Paxton.

“Oh, hell no. I’m not watching this shit. This is not a show.”

“Shut up, Pax, you love this show.” He likes to complain about my reality TV shows, but he always watches them with me and I’m pretty sure he secretly loves them.

“Is she back with that douche bag?” he asks, sucked in already.

“Yep. As soon as he got out of jail she was all over him.”

“These girls are so fucking stupid. Didn’t she learn her lesson the first time?”

“She’s in love, Pax. You should be happy for her,” I tell him, reaching up and grabbing a hold of his face. “I don’t care that he’s a cheating, lying, drug addict. I love him so much and we were meant to be together. He never meant to hurt me he just loves me so much and his emotions were too much to handle,” I say, mimicking the stupid things that girls say in order to defend the assholes that they are ‘in love’ with.

“That ain’t love,” he
says, taking my hand from his face and wrapping it up with his own.

“Whatever
you say.” I smile to myself. I’m so glad Paxton is here. I missed this. I missed him.

Chapter 9 - Paxton

 

“So what’s the plan for tonight?” Vi asks the second she steps through the door after working an eight hour shift. That girl has way too much energy.

“You’re looking at it,” I tell her. Jessa and I have been on the couch all
day watching her stupid shows and eating junk food. I have no desire to leave.

“Ugh, I got
ta get up, Pax. I have a paper to write.”

“What? Y
ou didn’t get that done yet? I thought we were going out to dinner at least,” Vi pouts.

“Pax is making us lasagna,” Jessa says, taking her legs
off me and flashing me a smile before getting up.

“Oh, good.
I’ll call Jimmy, he can bring some wine.”

“I’m not making you lasagna,” I tell her.

“What?”

“Sorry, Vi. I was being a
smartass,” Jessa tells her. “I have to go the library so I won’t be here for dinner. If you let me borrow your car I’ll pick you up something on the way home.”

“I’ll bring you,” I tell her
, standing. “Let me get a quick shower, then we can go.” As I walk past her, I spank her ass without thinking about it. Jessa turns her head to me with surprise on her face, before winding up and spanking me right back. “Ouch.”

“Keep your hands off my ass,” she tells me through her laughter.

Because she said that, I wrap my arms around her and grab both of her firm little cheeks in my hands. “I barely touched you. This is putting my hands on your ass.”

“Okay,” she says pushing me off of her. “Thanks for clearing that up.”

“Anytime,” I say, letting go and heading to the shower.

I’m smiling the entire time I’m under the water. I’m still thinking I gotta talk to Jessa, but
it feels so good, so right, just to be back with her and after the little talk we had about falling in love I’m not sure I want to do it right at this moment.

I throw my clothes on and get J
essa in the car and head toward the University.

“I’ll call you when I’m done and you can come pick me up,” Jessa says
as we pull into campus.

“No. I’m coming in with you.”

“It could be hours, Pax. I’ll just call you when I’m done.”

“I got nothing going on,” I tell her, pulling into a parking lot near
the library.

“Whatever,” she
says, slinging her messenger bag over her body and stepping out of the car.

“So what are we writing about?” I ask as we walk into the
big, cold building.

“Are you gonna help me?”

“If it means getting out of here sooner,” I tell her, grabbing her hand and leading her up the steps.

“It’s for my women’s study class,” she says
, laughing. “Gender identity.”

“Shit. You definitely need my help. In fact, we don’t even need to be here. I can write
that paper for you in a minute.”

“You know a lot of
transgender and transsexual people?”


Yeah, I did part of my growing up in Venice.”

“I believe you, Pax, that you have very intimate knowledge of the topic, but I’m still gonna do my research.”

At the top of the steps Jessa leads me to an open area that is filled with computer stations. As we walk past her fellow students they all pick up their heads to size us up. I don’t miss this world. A group of girls down the line are looking at Jessa with smirks on their faces, whispering to one another. When we are close one of them calls out, “Moved on already, huh slut?”

Jessa heads over to them
without hesitation, her hand still holding onto mine. She drops it when she gets to the girls so she can put her hands on the table and lean into them. “Sorry,” she tells the girl sweetly, “what was your name again?”

“Mindy,”
the girl tells her, not as bold now.

“Hi Mindy, I’m Jessa. It’s great to meet you.” She pulls out a chair and takes a seat, all three of the g
irls look taken aback. “It’s super flattering to know that you’ve taken such interest in my personal life. Can I answer any questions for you?”

The girls look at each other with confusion. I lean against the wall, taking in the show.

“No?” Jessa asks. “Nothing?”

“Why are you such a slut?” the girl asks before she and her friends giggle, like that was a brilliant come back.

“Are you the clever girl that left that note on my door?” Jessa asks sweetly. “I was hoping to chat with you. Listen, sweetie, I’m assuming that you don’t actually know what that word means, right?” she asks like she’s talking to a two year old.

“It’s a girl who
sleeps around,” the girl says, looking proud of herself.

“Wow, that’s right,” Jessa says with mock enthusiasm.
“Because what I did with Dylan was called a break-up. A break-up is when you stop dating someone. Do you see why I was concerned about your level of intelligence?” she asks, cocking her head at the girl.

The girl just stares back at her with a blank face.

“I’m glad I could clear that up for you,” Jessa tells her sweetly. “If you need any more help the dictionaries are in the reference section.” She gives the girl a bright smile and then stands.

“Whatever… slut,” the girls says, giggling again with her friends.

“Oh, now this is a shame,” Jessa tells her. “Are you two any good with the English language,” she asks the friends. “I would love to stay and keep working with her but I have a paper to write. You two are her friends, right? You’ll help her out?”

No one has anything to say to that so Jessa turns from them and walks back to me, rolling he
r eyes. I take her hand back in mine and we continue down the row. I look back at the girls, laughing at the way they are still staring at Jessa, mesmerized. “So you’re a slut, huh?” I ask her, taking my hand out of hers so I can sling it around her shoulder.


Those girls… they should just start a fan club. They’re devoted to Dylan like he’s fricking Justin Bieber.”

“No shit, huh?” I ask
, laughing. “And you let him go? You are one dumb slut.”

“R
ight now, I would totally be willing to be a slut. I swear to God. It’s been too, too, long, Pax.”

My muscles become tense, my anger is tangible. I’m getting tired of the girl talking about how she wants to get laid. “If it’s that unbearable, beso, we can find a
quiet corner over by the books. I can get you off real quick.”

“Shut the
hell up, Pax,” she says, her voice noticeably strained. “God, that is not helpful.” A shiver runs through her body and I tighten my hold on her.

“I don’t want to see you suffering,” I murmur.

She stops in front of an open computer, turning to me and grabbing a hold of my t-shirt, pulling me close to her. “I
am
suffering and hearing you talk like that is not helping. So…. Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” She lets go of me and takes a seat at the computer.

I take the spot next to her, wondering h
ow hard I should push the issue. Clearly, she’s vulnerable right now and the sexual tension between the two of us was like a third wheel all day as we sat touching each other, tangled up together. Maybe I need to get over myself and just become her fuck buddy- it would be so easy.

B
ut when she was on the phone with that pansy, Dylan, the disdain was so clear in her voice and on her face and I never want to be on the receiving end of that. I’m pretty sure that when she and I start having sex – which I’m thinking is inevitable – that she won’t want to be stopping it anytime soon, but after the way shit went down with her attempt at commitment with the guy, her aversion to anything more than just sex is stronger than ever. If I do this with her it’s gotta mean something. It’s gotta be permanent.

She’s not ready for permanent. I’m not sure if I am either. But hell, I might be getting there. This morning when she was trying to make breakfast and I told her that I had been cooking for myself since I was six and she asked me why, I opened my mouth and I was ready to tell her. I was ready to tell her about every miserable memory from my past. About the w
oman who never gave me anything; meals being just one thing on that long list. About the woman who did everything to keep me from my father but insisted I keep his last name because she told me I wasn’t good enough to be a Dixon. Not like her precious step-children. The ones who she drove to their private school every morning, passing by me as I sat at the bus stop waiting to catch my bus to public. About the woman who kept me hidden away during her parties and left me behind in favor of Jackson and Julia who she strutted around that pretentious town like they were her own. The woman who made me live in the dank basement in a mansion that had seven bedrooms on the top floor. All this shit that I’ve always wanted to keep locked away, that I never told anyone about – not Gabriel, not Santos, not no one- I wanted to tell her.

I’m glad I didn’t. I don’t think it’s healthy for me to start thinking that perm
anent is an option in this city, because it’s not. I can’t stay here. I don’t want to stay here. Logically, the fact that I can’t do permanent here, and I’m not willing to have temporary with Jessa, means I should just let this situation go. But I can’t help but try and find a way around it.

My ey
es wander around the library, to all the kids that don’t look that much different than the ones Jess and I spent last year with in River Bluff. Those stupid girls, saying that shit to her like she’s not even a person. She got the same crap in high school. If it weren’t for the fact that I’m thinking about trying to make Jessa mine, I would admire the way she lives her life – never giving into a guy, holding her own, taking only what she wants. But girls don’t appreciate what Jessa does. They don’t appreciate it because every guy that crosses paths with Jessa wants her. And it’s a want that never leaves them ‘cause no one ever really gets to have her.

“Are you happy here?” I ask, interrupting the research she’s doing on the computer.

“What?” she says, her eyes only leaving her computer for a second before returning to the screen.

“Chicago – you wanted to come here to find people who would understand you. Is that how you were treated when you were in the dorm?
Is that what you deal with every time you gotta go to class or to the library?”

“I told you how it was in the dorm. No, obviously those girls were not what I was picturing when I wanted to move to a city and get out of River Bluff.”

“So are you happy here?”

She stops what she’s doing completely now and looks at me like she’s actually contemplating my question. “At the moment, yes. I couldn’t be happier.”

“How come?” I ask, leaning into her.

“Because I’m not living in that dorm anymore. And because since the moment you sent Vi to rescue me I realized there was a whole other world here that I could feel comfortable in. That there are
people here that I can be myself around.” She gives me a crooked smile. She knows what I want her to say. “It’s your world Paxton. It’s a world that was created around you and I knew from the minute I met you that I would find a home eventually, a place where I could be comfortable and start over. Figures, it’s literally your world. But now that you’re here in it, it feels completely right.”

I smile at her because I’m glad she’s happy. But
another part of me wants her to say that she doesn’t want to stay here because she knows I can’t. I want her to say that it don’t matter where she is as long as she has me. “So this is where you see yourself staying?”

She cocks her head at me, confused by my stupid fucking questions. “Yea
h. Where else would I go?”

Home with me, to Venice.
“There’s all kinds of cities in the world, kid. Just wondering if you think you found the right one.”

“She’ll do for now,” she says, turning her attention back to the computer. “Who knows where I’ll end up, but for now, yeah, I think this is where I belong.”

I lean back in my chair, letting the subject rest before I say something stupid that will have her running from me. Commitment is not in her vocabulary at the moment and I’m not willing to fuck everything up with her right now. With Jessa, I’m gonna have to be patient. I’m gonna have to be strategic. She’s gonna be the only girl I’ve ever had to work for but I’m willing to try. I just don’t know how long I can sit around here trying to make it happen.

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