Skin Deep (8 page)

“Emma Marie Jensen, you devious little
bitch!” Allie yelled into the phone, not bothering with niceties
like saying hello or anything. “I gave up fat clothes night and
special sundaes for you to roll around naked with that hot piece of
ass and you can’t even call me to give me details? I thought you
were my best friend! I’m breaking up with you!”

I couldn’t help it. I laughed. “Allie, calm
down!”

“You don’t get to tell me to calm down,
chickie la la. I went out since we weren’t having fat clothes
night, and instead of finding me a hot piece of my own, I ran
interception for you because I saw Leah at the bar. She was working
herself up over the loss of her current man candy of the month and
was planning on crashing your place again. So what now?” Allie
yelled into the phone.

“Okay, okay, okay, geez, keep your panties
on! I’m sorry, thank you, I love you, you have my undying
gratitude, and if you are done yelling at me, meet me at Griff’s
for a drink and I’ll give you the low down dirty details. Will that
make up for it?” I asked.

“Yes,” she huffed. “Be there in ten. Maybe
fifteen.” She hung up.

I chuckled, pulled out of Jenna’s drive and
headed downtown to Griff’s.

When I got to Griff’s, I headed to our
favorite booth in the back. It was primo positioning, you had a
clear view of the bar, clear view of the door, and, for the nights
they had bands play, a clear view of the small stage. Unless people
start a mosh pit in the middle of the floor, but I try to avoid
those nights.

When I got to the booth, I pulled up short
because it was occupied. Then I got a clear look at who it was and
my night just got even better.

“Calland Andrew Jensen,” I drawled. “Imagine
finding you here, little brother.” I slid into the booth beside
him, effectively blocking him in. Well, as much as I could because
we both knew he could get past me if he wanted. He could slide out
under the table, or, frankly, could bodily shove me out of the way.
And he’s done both before, so…

“Emma, how many times do I have to tell you?
Younger brother, youn-ger. I’m bigger than you. I’m stronger than
you. Do we need to have this conversation again?” Calland
asked.

Calland is 27, the only boy, and, well,
there’s no way around it. He’s a spoiled rotten little asshole. But
he’s a gorgeous spoiled rotten little asshole. He’s tall, topping
out at six-two, and he’s built. He has thick, dark brown hair cut
almost in a high and tight, but his hair is a little longer on top.
It always looks like he just ran his hands through it, but its
actually styled like that. Weird, but it works for him, I
guess.

His eyes are the same jade green as all of
ours, rimmed in thick, long dark lashes that should have made him
look feminine, but did no such thing, and his skin is nicely
tanned. (Makes me sick because I generally just burn; which is why
he’s always so kindly telling me that I was adopted. Asshole,
see?)

“Asshole,” I muttered under my breath before
saying, “So. You owe me so big for Monday night. You barge into my
house, where I’m
clearly
busy, and then if that’s not bad
enough, you left our sister passed out, not three sheets to the
wind, but like
six
sheets to the wind, on my living room
floor. I didn’t get laid because of you, jerkwad!”

Eek! I realized as soon as the words left my
mouth that I had yelled that last part. And, of course, the song
playing on the jukebox had just ended, so my words echoed in the
sudden silence of the bar. The whole bar. Ugh. I hate my life
sometimes.

Willy, a regular at the bar who, more often
than not, was drunk by two turned my way and hollered, “I’ll do ya,
sweet cheeks! Won’t leave ya hangin’, either!” Yikes.

I chose to ignore Willy (he hits on
everything that walks by with long hair and two legs. Caused a few
tiffs, that’s for sure, especially when it’s a poor unsuspecting
dude with long hair.)

I turned back to Calland, opened my mouth to
say something, and he punched my arm.

“Don’t call me names!” he smirked.

Rubbing my arm (it
stung
!) I replied,
“What are you, five? Cheese and rice, man!”

Allie, fortunately or unfortunately, however
you want to look at it, chose that moment to barrel up to the
table, throw herself into the booth, and yell, “Go!”

I shook my head at her, knowing she was
giving me my cue to spill. So I started telling her, relishing the
horror that flashed over Calland’s face before he shoved me out of
the booth in front of him and took off, waving and hollering,
“Later!” over his shoulder.

When I finished telling Allie every last
little detail, she blinked for a second before saying, “I just have
one question.”

Uh oh, I mentally groaned.

“Please, please tell me you had mowed the
lawn. You did, right?” she asked, a pained expression on her
face.

Really? She had to go there? “Yes, Allie.
Mowed down to the dirt. Bare floors. However you want to call it,
there’s nothing there. Are you satisfied? Can we forget about that
for once?”

“Well, Em, you have to admit it’s a valid
question. I mean, you did look like you were smuggling Side Show
Bob in your bikini bottoms. Bushzilla, baby!” She cracked up like
she was the funniest thing alive.

I glared at her. “Allie, that was summer
camp, when we were thirteen! I cant help it, it was like I went to
bed and woke up with my cha-chi revisiting the seventies!”

Looking back, that had to have been the most
embarrassing moment of my life. Allie was rushing me to get to the
lake so we could swim with Alec Holt and Brad Sumner. I had walked
out of the bunkroom in my swimsuit, ready to go. Allie and our
counselor were standing in the living room of the cabin, and they
had frozen, mouths open, gaping at me in shock. The counselor had
turned without a word and walked into her room for a second before
returning and handing me a pair of nail scissors. She then had
pointed to the scissors, pointed to my thighs, and pointed toward
the bathroom. Even at thirteen I got the hint, and never looked
back. Bushzilla had never returned.

Allie shrugged. “Just looking out for my
bestie,” she said. “Anyway, so when are you gonna see him
again?”

It was my turn to shrug. “Not sure. We didn’t
really talk about it, and I don’t have his number. Come to think of
it, he doesn’t have mine, either.”

Allie pursed her lips, looking thoughtful.
“No, but you do know where he works. We could always hit up Skin
Deep…”

I shook my head. “No, I’m not stalking him at
his work. He called me at my work, so he knows how to get ahold of
me. And I just remembered that I’m mad at him anyway. He just
called out of the blue, ordered me around, and just expected me to
listen!”

I was trying to work myself into a good
pissed-off-ness, trying not to think about how hot it actually was
when had done that, when Allie said, “He did give you four orgasms,
Emma.” Allie, always (not always) the voice of reason.

Hmm. She’s right. Only it was six. Can you
say multiples? Holy shitballs, girls, they’re real!

Shaking my head to clear those thoughts
before they made me drool and stare glassy eyed off into space, I
asked Allie what she wanted to drink. She gave me her order and I
bellied up to the bar between Willy and Billy, Willy’s drunken best
friend and bar stool neighbor for life, and ordered two sangria
margaritas, on the rocks, sugar rimmed, please.

I fended off Willy and Billy’s questing
hands, grabbed our drinks and headed back to Allie.

As I got close to the table I said to her,
“Okay, no more talk of Luke, who may or may not ever call me again,
orgasms, or Bushzilla. We’re gonna drink our drinks and then I
think we should go hit the drag show at Shimbots on Broad later.
Showmia Buffet is headlining and I just love her!”

I didn’t pay much attention to Allie until I
sat the drinks down on the table and started to slide into the
booth opposite her. When I looked at her face, I noted that she was
staring wide-eyed at something. I turned my head to see what the
hell she was looking at and my eyes collided with smoky blue-grey
ones. Yikes!

“Uh, hey, Luke,” I stammered.

He nodded, his lips twitching, before
crowding into the booth beside me, giving me no choice but to slide
over for him. As I did, I realized that he wasn’t alone. Brandon
was shoving Allie over on her side, as well.

“Hey, hey, ladies!” Brandon crowed, grinning
at both of us. He then reached over and without a beat, snatched
Allie’s margarita, and downed it before licking every bit of sugar
off the rim.

“Hey!” Allie screeched. “You bastard, you owe
me a drink! I hadn’t even gotten to taste that yet!”

Brandon leaned over and put his head on
Allie’s shoulder, giving her puppy dog eyes and sticking his bottom
lip out exaggeratedly. “Forgive me, Allie…please?”

I snorted, trying to hold back my laughter,
but couldn’t. I glanced at Luke and found him grinning at Brandon
and Allie, and it made me feel warm inside. Which kinda scared
me.

Luke caught my eyes with his and the smiles
faded from both of our faces. Without thinking, I leaned in and
kissed his lips softly before quickly pulling back. He blinked at
me in astonishment and I heard twin gasps come from the other side
of the table. I turned my head and found Allie and Brandon both
staring at me, Allie’s jaw hanging open and Brandon grinning
widely.

I closed my eyes and dropped my head to the
table. I couldn’t believe I had just done that.

I felt a heavy arm drape itself around my
shoulders, pulling me in close to a hard, warm body. I raised my
eyes and found Luke’s face close to mine. He smiled at me, pulled
me back from the table, and tucked me into his side.

Allie’s shrill voice turned my attention back
across the table and I watched as Brandon slid his hand over to my
drink and smoothly pulled it back before draining it, Allie
shrieking in indignation and slapping at him.

“Brandon, you dickhead, that’s two drinks you
owe us. Get your ass up to the bar!” Allie was yelling at him, all
the while shoving him off the edge of the booth. She managed to
push him out completely and followed him towards the bar,
presumably to make sure he actually replaced our drinks.

“Miss me?” Luke’s voice rasped in my ear.

I quirked my eyebrow at him, refusing to
answer. He smiled a slow, secretive smile.

“Okay, then, who’s Bushzilla?”

Oh, hell no! Not touching that one with a
twenty foot pole!

I shrugged, then asked, “What about the shop?
Aren’t you busy on Saturday nights?”

“Yeah, usually. I got a couple other people
that work part time sometimes. Brandon and I decided to grab some
dinner real quick and saw you. Couldn’t resist a chance to do
this-” and he kissed me. Hard, deep, lots of tongue.

I was lost in a daze when he finally pulled
back from my lips but the catcalls and whistles rippling through
the bar around us broke through, causing my cheeks to heat.

Allie and Brandon returned from the bar, each
carrying two drinks. Allie had the replacement margaritas for us,
and the guys had beers. I snagged mine from Allie, gulping it down
quickly, which earned me another quizzical look from Luke, a grin
and high-five from Brandon, and a kick under the table from
Allie.

While we, well,
they
, were finishing
their drinks, Luke and Brandon grabbed menus to look over. The
waitress came over (she must have been new, because I didn’t know
her) to take their orders, and they both looked over to each of us
and asked if we wanted anything.

Glancing at my watch, I realized it was
heading towards eight o’clock and I hadn’t had anything since this
morning at Jenna’s.

“Sure,” I said. “I’ll just take an order of
the pizza rolls. Thanks!”

I loved the pizza rolls at Griff’s. They
weren’t like the pizza rolls you buy at the store or anything.
These were wonton wrappers filled with pizza sauce, spicy
pepperoni, and mozzarella cheese all wrapped up and deep fried to
ooey-gooey /crispy crunchy perfection! I always had a hard time
deciding between those and the tater poppers, which are these
little shredded potato bundles that are filled with a mixture of
cream cheese and jalapenos and then deep fried. Yum…

I had intended for the waitress to hear my
order, but apparently she was too caught up in undressing Brandon
with her eyes. Wait…ohmigod! She was staring at Allie! Whoa!

I heard Luke clear his throat beside me, and
when the waitress blushed and tore her eyes from Allie, he ordered
my pizza rolls for me and a bacon cheeseburger for himself. Brandon
ordered the same, and then Allie ordered an order of tater poppers
(Yes! I get to steal some!). The waitress stuttered through
repeating our orders back to make sure she had them right before
she took off towards the kitchen door behind the bar.

I didn’t waste any time. “Allison Anne
McCormick, what the hell was that?” I said, laughing.

“Oh, you know, no big deal. I got pretty
drunk last night
running interception for you
and maybe
kissed her? Okay, yeah, I kissed her. And apparently laid it on her
good,” she chuckled, winking at me.

“All
right
!” Brandon shouted beside
Allie, throwing his hand up to give her a high-five. “That’s what
I’m talking about, baby! Shee-it!”

Allie just grinned, slapped fives with
Brandon, and shrugged. “I’m an equal opportunity kisser, I
guess.”

See? Free spirit. Very free. But I love her
anyway.

Chapter 7

The four of us, me, Allie, Luke, and Brandon,
all sat at Griff’s enjoying our food and drinks, and I guess time
just flew. When I glanced at my watch, I gasped and shouted to
Allie, “We gotta go! We’re gonna miss the show!”