Surge (97 page)

“Jared, make your damn move tonight,” John orders. I look over and see his expression is rather pained. Oh no he fucking isn’t sporting a woody from looking at
my
Olivia. I elbow him in the ribs.

“It’s just dancing,” I mimic using his tone. “Tell Snakie go to sleep, or I’ll rip him the fuck off.”

“Hey, don’t you threaten him, you territorial bastard,” John says as he cups his crotch. “He sees a sexy,
un
attached female shaking what her mamma gave her, and wants to pounce. It’s a perfectly reasonable reaction.”

“Yeah, and if that didn’t have anything to do with Olivia, I wouldn’t care; but it does, so tell him to back the hell down.”

“How do you know it’s Olivia?” John asks with a smirk. “Maybe Webby’s making me a switch hitter.” When I growl, he holds up his hands. “Fine, I’ll leave before my magnetic dick propels me forward, and I start humping Olivia’s leg, alright?”

“That would probably be best,” I say. “And I think I’ll come with you, before I have to stab someone.”

I glance back at the floor and see that Olivia’s now dancing with Patsy. Besides the hackles that his hair color raise, which I’m working on, he’s alright; and he keeps his contact with Olivia to a minimum, so that means I don’t want to stab him. Maybe just cut him a little. I continue after John, until I feel a hand curl around my arm. A decidedly small hand, that raises hope in me, that I have no right feeling. Turning to find the owner of that hand, I turn, and look down.

To find Bette Davis with a sherry colored wig, and lipstick that goes onto her skin. I can see the temples of her grey hair poking out from underneath the pinned wig, and I think that she’d look a hell of a lot better, if she lost the horrid thing all together. Along with applying her lipstick while using a mirror.

“You the one they call Jared,” the old woman asks and I nod. “Come and sit with me a while.”

It wasn’t a request, as can be seen when she doesn’t release my arm, until I sit in the chair she dragged me to. It just so happens to be even closer to Olivia, so I just got a front row seat to her dazzling smile being aimed at other people. I turn my attention to the old crone, whose unwittingly shoving bamboo shoots under my fingernails.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name,” I say. Melly, and I know it’s Melly because of Oscar’s description earlier, turns her alert blue eyes my way.

“It’s Melly,” she answers. “Not
‘granny,’
not
‘ma’am,’
and definitely not
‘old crow.’
I’m sixty-eight, thank you very much.”

“You don’t look a day over thirty,” I tell her and she flashes me her lipstick stained teeth. Red is
so
not her color.

“Quit looking at me like I’m a circus exhibit,” Melly orders. “I let my neighbor do my makeup and hair, believe me, I know I look awful. But Paula is a sweet girl, if not a little soft in the head, and I couldn’t tell her that it should be illegal for her to even look at lipstick.” I laugh at that. This lady ain’t half bad. “Anyway, we’re not here to talk about Paula.”

“What are we here to talk about?”

“Well, if you didn’t interrupt me,” she says with a look at me. “I would have gotten to say Olivia.” Melly glances at floor in front of us, but I don’t look. She’ll probably just be on to the next partner by now, and I don’t feel like rushing the floor to punch whoever it is right now. “She and my grandson are gonna make beautiful babies.” The fuck? Melly must read the frown on my face, because she smiles. “My grandson, Jayce, he and Olivia will give me some more great-grandbabies to spoil.”

“Who’s Jayce?” I ask, and doesn’t whoever the fuck this guy’s name is, taste bitter on my tongue. Melly points her finger, so I follow it to none other than Webby. The handsome, dry humping bastard.

“Jayce Petropoulos,” she answers. I guess I was right about the Greek heritage.

“Then, why do they call him
‘Webby’
?”

“He has webbed toes,” Melly says. I bite back my laugh; the guy’s a freaking mutant. “It’s a family trait, so I’d mind my tongue, if I were you.”

“I didn’t say nothin.”

“No, you thought it,” she says and points at my eyes. “She was right about that.”

“Who?”

“Never you mind.” Melly replies and waves at me. “Back to my great-grandbabies. Sammy’s the only one I got, so I need more.”

“Sammy’s your great-grandson?” I ask. She’s not old enough to be a great-anything.

“He’s Jayce’s,” she says. I raise my eyebrows, he’s no older than I am. “Yeah, he had Sammy a little young for my liking, only seventeen, but he’s done a fine job. Especially since Sammy’s mom ran off the day he was born.”

“How old is Sammy?”

“Six,” Melly answers. I do the math, that makes Webby twenty-three. My age, plus a kid, and a career. This guy poses a threat. “And he loves Olivia.” Melly tips her chin back to the floor. I look this time to see Sammy dancing with Olivia, and he has this huge grin on his face, that showcases a missing tooth on the right side. He is also a carbon copy of his father, now that I can see his face.

“Everyone loves Olivia,” I retort.

“They do that,” she says with a nod. “There’s just something about her that draws people in. Webby sees it, Sammy sees it, I see it.” Melly looks at me. “Do
you
see it?”

“I do.”

“Good, then do something about it,” she orders. Completely baffled, I drag my eyes away from Olivia, to look at Melly.

“Didn’t you just say that you wanted Olivia to give you beautiful great-grandbabies with Webby?”

“Nah,” she says and pats my leg. “That was to get a reaction outta you. Jayce and Olivia are better friends than lovers, and it’s best to stay that way.”

“So, that was just a ploy for what, exactly?”

“I already told you boy, are you deaf?” Melly asks. She raises her voice a little. “To get a reaction out of you.”

“I heard you alright,” I say and rub my ear. “But why did you want a reaction in the first place?”

“That’s for me to know, and you to find out,” Melly says as she stands. “Nice talking you to, Jared.”

With that, she leaves me, and heads toward Olivia. It’s sad that even Melly, a nearly seventy year old great-grandmother, can dance better than I do; but I don’t pay much attention to her. If she wants to break her hip, good for her, but I’m frozen in my chair and thinking. Melly said a comment about my eyes,
‘someone was right about that.’

The only person that could, or would have made a comment about my eyes to Melly, would have been Olivia. Why would she be talking to Melly about me, when I was a dick to her? It’s another one of those puzzle pieces that make up the amazing woman, who’s now dancing with Sarah, some blonde girl that I assume is Ana, Ally, and Melly. And if I want to be a part in Olivia’s puzzle again, then I need to glue the piece she made specifically for me. The same one that I've stupidly torn to shreds.

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I’ve been sitting on the couch of our cabin for almost an hour, before I hear the knob turn. Standing abruptly, I take a few steps so that I’m on the other side of the sofa as Olivia walks in. She has her coat back on, but it’s unzipped, and she’s still in her loose sweatpants.

“Can I talk to you?” I ask.

“No time,” she says and continues toward the bedroom. I follow after her, she may hit me; which I deserve to be, but at least she’s talking.

“Please, I just need a minute.”

“I don’t have a minute,” Olivia says as she picks up her pack, and digs inside. Coming out with her leather leggings and ace bandages, she tries to brush past me to go into the bathroom, but I take a step to block her.

“Please.”

“Fine,” she huffs. “But you’ll have to do it as I change.” Olivia then drops her sweatpants, and steps out of them in only her Hello Kitty underwear. They’re fucking adorable, but I keep my eyes away from them. She’s giving me a chance to talk, and if I waste time ogling her, then I’m fucked.

“I’m sorry about last night,” I begin. “I know that doesn’t make a difference at all, but I’m sorry, and I shouldn’t have said anything that I did. I didn’t mean it, it just poured out of me. I was scared and it came off as anger, so I did what I do best, and pushed you away.” Olivia’s pulling on her leather leggings, but she has to hop a few times to keep her balance. I put my hand out to offer her something to brace herself on, and feel a little bit of hope swell in my chest, when she accepts my help.

“You were, and are my friend,” I continue. “I’m sorry if I ever made our friendship feel cheap to you, but it wasn’t for me.” Olivia zips her leggings, before pulling her coat off. “I liked staying up all night talking to you. Or playing cards, or looking at our photo albums. All of that was what I cared about. I never had any designs to seduce you.” She pulls her tank over her head, leaving her in her bra, but I again choose to keep my eyes up top, even though she won’t look at me.

“I admit it, I’m insanely attracted to you. When you thought I was running away, I was, but not for the reasons you thought. I wasn’t frustrated because you wouldn’t have sex with me. I was embarrassed for having the hots for my best friend. And I knew that if you had even an inkling of the effect you have on me, you’d either freak out, or pull away from me to keep it from being awkward. I didn’t want that, I liked how it was, exactly how we made it. Our cuddles on the
Princess and the Pea
bed, having you doctoring me, you being my personal hairdresser, training you. I loved it all, and I miss it.” When she still won’t look at me, and starts wrapping the ace bandages around her chest, the words continue rushing out of me.

“I miss you because I care about you. I know that it may not seem that way with all of the shit I said, but I do. I was fucking scared about what will happen to you, and I still am, that’s why I freaked out last night. Me being a dick, was my way of coping with emotions that I’m not accustomed to having for someone. Especially someone as beautiful, and smart, and fearless as you are.”

“I’m not fearless,” she says as she pulls shirt on. “I’m scared eighty percent of the time, I just hide it better.”

“I already told you that I don’t like you hiding from me,” I say and lift her gloved hand. Pulling back the leather glove, that she’s been wearing all damn day, I rub my thumb over the scars. “I know I’m not good at sharing, but I’m trying. I’m trying because I’m tired of hurting people I care about, and you’re one of them.”

“Thanks, but you shouldn’t,” she says and pulls her hand from mine, before adjusting her glove so that it’s tucked under her coat. Olivia looks up to meet my eyes for the first time today. “Can I go? I have somewhere I need to be.”

“Can it wait a minute?”

“It already has,” she counters. “Now, please move.” I do, since she’s already given me more than I deserve, but I follow after her.

“Where’re you going anyway?”

“Webby had a lead for me,” Olivia answers. She pauses in the doorway to look over her shoulder at me. “Don’t wait up for me,
honey
, me and Jared Jr. will be just fine.” With that, she slams the door behind her. Well, that went...well.

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