Shark Bait (The Grab Your Pole Series) (31 page)

“I like it, it matches. Oh, that reminds me…”

I felt him fiddle with my bra and looked up over my shoulder to see him refastening one of the hooks. Damn, the dexterity and nimbleness of this guy’s fingers is frightening. I didn’t even realize he’d been that close to undoing the thing in the first place.

“Well you know how I feel about clashing,” I told he who’s now kissing my back thereby sending waves of heat through my body with much force as my blood started to rush to my head from hanging upside down. The combination of which, I must say, is an odd sensation.

“What are you doing down there?” He asked, stretching out halfway over me like he was getting in a comfy position so he could maintain lip to back contact.

“Looking for my damned shirt! It’s disappeared…totally vanished! How can that even be possible? I mean, does the cosmos have it in for my clothes or something? Seriously Tristan, why does almost every night I’m around you end with me being in want of some form of apparel?” I asked out of pure frustration.

He was laughing against my back but he managed a reply just the same. “Maybe the cosmos agrees with my theory that you wear too many clothes.”

“Ugh, you’re impossible. Come on, the witching hour is at hand and I don’t think you’d care to be shot tonight.” I grabbed the shirt he’d been wearing earlier and pulled it over my head. “And I certainly won’t be happy if I get grounded.”

While Tristan wandered into his closet for another shirt, I used his bathroom and tidied up my hair again. When I was done, I found my flip-flops and hurriedly took one last look around his bed to see if the cosmos had had second thoughts about my shirt, all the while wondering how I was going to explain why I was coming home in a boy’s clothes. Again. I guess I’ll just go with the same excuse as I had the night of Mike’s party, which was basically the truth; I got a drink spilled all over me and Tristan was gentleman enough to surrender his shirt because mine was no longer appropriate for me to be seen in. You know, I figure telling my parents I spilled soda on myself at the movies will go over umpteen times better than saying “Oh, well Tristan and I were making out in his bedroom, see, and I decided I just
had
to be able to run my hands all over the taught skin of his marvelous torso and I figured if he was going to be shirtless, then it was only fair that I was too, but it’s the damnedest thing...I couldn’t find my shirt in the mess we’d made of his bed, so, you know...”

Tristan drove me home and on the way, we made tentative plans to meet up tomorrow night. They had to be tentative because neither of us knew where the good party was going to be yet. Actually, the first thing he asked was if I wanted to go back to the beach with him and Jeff tomorrow afternoon. I had to decline though; I’m going to a family bar-b-q at Derek’s house. I’m thinking that because he wants to see me again so soon, that tonight was a success on both sides. I mean it was for me obviously, but that doesn’t automatically mean he feels the same way.

Because we lagged leaving his place, he actually had to drive pretty fast to make it to my house on time and he got me to my door with just two minutes to spare. Since I was technically home, I made a judgment call and pulled Tristan over to sit on our porch swing with me. Okay, so I’m being kind of a rebellious brat, but it’s such a pretty night and I’m trying to keep the magic going any way I can. He and I just sat there, swinging together, looking at the stars and talking for about thirty minutes before a light in the house came on. We gave each other one last kiss then I scurried inside and he drove away.

I met my dad at the top of the stairs and said defiantly, “I was home at 11:58.”

“I know you were. Anyone with half a brain would recognize the sound of the small block that boy’s got in there, although I’m glad to see he didn’t take you out in that VW of his,” my dad said with a knowingly raised eyebrow.

Well, so much for keeping that a secret—he must’ve seen Tristan drop me off last weekend. “And I’m not here to argue semantics with you either but do me a favor sweetie, lemme at least meet the boy before you spend half the night on the porch swing with him,” he finished, looking at me fondly.

“Okay. I’m sorry Daddy,” I replied heavy with guilt and hugged him.

I was all keyed up for an argument but my dad wasn’t upset at all. And he has a point; he really should get to meet the guy who wants to date his teenage daughter. At some point I’m going to have to tell him about the age thing too. He deserves to know the truth.

“Honey, I think I have a pretty good idea of what you’re goin’ through. After all, that’s the same porch swing your mom and I spent many a night in high school swingin’ on and fallin’ in love with each other…it’s also the same one she was sittin’ on when she told me she’d marry me. Your Grandma and Grandpa Cameron gave it to us as a wedding present,” my dad told me with a dreamy look on his face before we said goodnight and he went back to his room and my mom.

Did you notice that he didn’t even
try
to tell me I’m too young to fall in love? Wow. I guess my dad’s a total romantic, huh? You know, my parents might not be as lenient as Tristan’s but I’d bet Kate’s dad’s life savings that they love each other as much as his if not more.

I started moving towards my room when my dad suddenly stopped at the other end of the hallway and turned back around. “You wearin’ the boy’s shirt again?”

Nope. Definitely not as lenient. “Oh. Yeah...I’m a klutz...I tripped going down the stairs after the movie and spilled soda all over myself. Tristan had an extra shirt in the trunk.”

“He’s quite the boy scout, ain’t he?”

I smiled a little and shrugged. Then something occurred to me. “Oh crap, I just realized I left my shirt in his car again...”

Yeah I know. I’m a liar and a horrible daughter.

16.

A Piece Of Red Licorice

I woke up Saturday morning to the melodic sound of Faith Hill’s voice. It automatically made my blood sizzle and all the nerve endings in my body tingle at the memories it evoked in me. I scrambled out of bed trying to grab my phone before it stopped ringing on the off chance I might get to hear the sound of Tristan’s voice on the other end. He’s never actually called to talk to me but I can hope, right? Looking at the screen, I discovered I’ll have to continue to hope but I’m not too disappointed because instead of a text, it’s a picture message. I smiled and caught myself speaking baby talk at the picture of Phineas and Ferb sleeping sprawled on top of each other.

Oh! They’re just so stinking cute! I looked at it closer and realized what they were sleeping on, or rather, in—my missing shirt. I’m guessing that the itty-bitty kitties must’ve at some point when Tristan and I were oblivious to everything including nuclear war, stolen it and made a bed for themselves out of it. It’s kinda funny actually, we bought them a kitty bed but rather than using
it
, they dragged my shirt right next to it and crashed there instead.

Looking at the pictorial evidence and thinking about the success of date number one, I of course started thinking about what date number two might hold in store for me. It hasn’t even been planned yet, but this is where I’m doing the positive thinking thing again.

And okay, now I know it might sound like a bad idea to do at this point, but I’m going to call Melissa. I don’t want any details (Um, can you say uber-awkward?), but I’m hoping that if I have some “speaking from experience” wisdom to keep in the back of my mind, I can capitalize on the progress I’ve already achieved with the human father of my feline children. I waited until after breakfast and when I thought would be a respectable hour to call, and was gratified when Melissa answered on the first ring.

Melissa: “Hey Camie, what’s up?”

Me: “Well, I kinda wanted to ask you something. I hope I’m not out of line and you can totally tell me it’s none of my freaking business if I am, but would you be willing to tell me why things with you and Tristan didn’t work out?”

Melissa: “Oh, sure. I don’t know why I never thought to tell you before, but it’s really not that big of a deal. I think our personalities just didn’t mesh all that well. I mean, we get along great and everything but I think I might’ve been too high maintenance for him.”

Me: “Oh. What makes you think that? I mean did he say something that would make you think that, or is it just a guess?”

Melissa: “Mmm, a little of both. I don’t think we would’ve ever really been good together and he knew it before I did, but we still probably would’ve gone out more than three times. And honestly, I think the reason we didn’t was mostly my fault.” (Huh. I thought it was only twice…)

Me: “Your fault?”

Melissa: “Well, yeah, kinda…I mean, technically, there really wasn’t anything that happened for blame to be placed, but Tristan and I went out a couple times over a period of a few weeks or maybe it was like a month…I don’t remember, but anyway, the weekend after our second date I saw him totally making out with this older and really sexy looking girl I’d never seen before. Actually, I never saw her again after that either…but, whatever, I didn’t handle it well. I mean he and I were
not
an item by
any
stretch of the imagination so my reaction wasn’t really justified, you know?”

Me: (No, I don’t really know, but whatever.) “Um, yeah, I guess…what was your reaction?”

Melissa: “Well, I didn’t freak out or anything that night but when we went out the third time I was
really
clingy. I think I thought that if I could just somehow capture and keep his attention we’d be good, you know? But he was
so
not having any of that…he wasn’t a jerk or anything about it, but he did say something like he felt too much pressure to meet demands.

“I forget how he put it, but I took it to mean that I was putting pressure on him to act in a way that he was uncomfortable with. You know, like he couldn’t be himself around me. And you know what, he was right. Neither of us would’ve been happy if he hadn’t recognized what was going on and put a stop to it. I’m sorry, I know that’s not much, but there honestly wasn’t all that much between us and it was a long time ago.”

Me: “Oh, no…don’t apologize. This is what I asked to know. I just wanted to talk to someone who’d been there before, you know? I really appreciate you telling me all that.”

Melissa: “Oh no problem, I hope it helps. And while I have you on the phone, I wanna say something else...he’s pretty much the same now as he was back then, and well…Camie, I’ve never seen him act the way he does around you with any other girl, and I don’t know why or what it is about you, but there’s most definitely
something
there. I mean, he hasn’t even so much as
checked out
another girl since he met you and honestly, for a guy who pretty much can and frequently does take his pick of any single girl during any given time to essentially play with however he wants, that’s really saying something.”

Me: “You know, I kinda don’t know what to say…I mean, the way you and Kate make me sound sometimes…I don’t get it, Melissa, I’m really not that special. I’m just me, you know?”

Melissa: “Yeah, I know what you mean, but
he
apparently thinks you are and maybe it’s
because
you don’t put on an act for him or anyone else. You know, Camie, there’s something to be said for just being yourself. I mean think about it…he didn’t wanna date me anymore because he couldn’t be himself around me and I
wasn’t
being myself around him…maybe you guys hit the jackpot with being able to just be yourselves with each other and it works without effort. I know this whole thing started out being kinda contrived, but there really hasn’t been any actual acting going on. You guys have been behaving like you normally would and you just naturally clicked.”

Me: “You really think so? Honestly, I keep thinking the same thing, but I just don’t wanna read into something that’s not there. But seriously Melissa…we found kittens last night and adopted them and I swear it felt like playing house. In fact, he already sent me a picture of them sleeping this morning and the title was “the kids”…I’m right in thinking that’s not normal teenage behavior, aren’t I?”

Melissa: “Uh, I’m gonna go with no. It’s damned cute, but no, not normal.”

Melissa and I chatted for a little longer and by the time we hung up, it was time for me to head out for one of our freakishly large family gatherings. They would definitely fall under the hootenanny category but they’re usually so much fun, I can honestly call it that with love. I really do have an amazing extended family and it might be cheesy to admit it, but I like hanging out with them.

While we were there, everyone participated—adults too—in a jack-o-lantern carving contest. In addition to that, my aunt, Karen, made a ridiculously fun obstacle course for the kids, and of course we went on a scavenger hunt in their neighborhood once it got dark. All in all, it was chocked full of hoot and a little bit of nanny but it was a rip-roaring great time just the same.

We didn’t leave until almost 9:30 and I’d been kind of stressing about not getting a ride to whatever party Tristan was at. Shortly before we got home however, Kate sent me text telling me to meet her at the party conveniently taking place just around the block from my house.

After changing, running a brush through my hair and putting on some lip-gloss—my parents are cool with lip-gloss—I padded back downstairs and said to my family at large, “Okay, I’m gonna walk over to that party for a while…I’ll be home by midnight.”

“Honey, are you sure you still want to go out? I’d think you’d be tired after today,” my mom said on her way upstairs.

“Yeah I know, but Tristan and I told each other we’d meet up somewhere tonight and Kate’s waiting for me there.”

My mom shrugged and nodded in that “okay, do what you want” kind of way, and I kissed her on the cheek. I said another quick goodbye before leaving the house and then I practically sprinted down the street. I was walking up the driveway of my destination when I got a text from Kate who was just then walking out the front door.

“Oh,
there
you are…I just sent you a text. I’m leaving, do you wanna come with me or not?” From her tone and expression, it was beyond evident that Kate’s irritation was
massive
.