That Girl (16 page)

“I sucked him off in his truck.”

“Oh my God, Jenni, you what?”

“Well, it started off as a heated make-out session and my hand accidentally brushed his bulging boner, so I unzipped his pants and went down on him.”

Trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together, and for some odd reason visualizing the two of them, I ask, “Your hand brushed his thingy, so you pulled it out and you know…?”

“Oakley,” she squeals.

“What?”

“You’ve never given head before?”

I shake my head and feel my cheeks heat up.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she asks, waving her hands out in front of her.

“No, I’ve never even had a boyfriend before Lincoln.”

“Holy shit, were you a nun? My God, no boyfriend and no BJs?”

“Let’s talk about something else, please.”

“I want a blended mocha,” she says with a smirk.

While making her mocha, Jenni tried opening her mouth about ten times to talk about her oral skills, and I stopped her every time. Finally, sitting down and out of distractions to stop her, she hits me with details.

“I swallowed,” she blurted.

“Eww, I could’ve done without that.”

“I could tell he was totally digging my teeth, so I sunk right down on that cock of his, and it exploded in my mouth.”

Jenni would probably really pass out if I told I’ve never even seen a dick in my life. The expression on her face would be priceless. However, I’m not in the mood to give her a heart attack today.

“I don’t even know how to respond to that, Jenni,” I say.

“Well, when giving head, you really need to find out if the guy likes teeth, hard suck, or a sloppy suck. My cousin is a porn star, and I know all the tricks.”

“Oh my God, enough, right now.”

I’m not sure what is more embarrassing, knowing Jenni’s sucking techniques, or that she gets sex advice from her porn star cousin. I guess the phrase “I bet she fucks like a porn star” does ring true for some.

“Okay, okay, but if you ever need any advice when you’re ready to wrestle his anaconda, let me know. Lincoln’s on the top five list of football players every girl want to fuck, so don’t let him go to waste.”

“I’ll remember that,” I say, trying to shut her up.

“’Kay, ’kay, I gotta run. I have a class tonight, and then hope to bang Ryan until the sun rises. Oh, and I made an appointment for us at a spa tomorrow. Danielle said you can get off early,” she says, slamming the door before I have a chance to get a word out.

Well, there’s one thing about that girl, she doesn’t sugarcoat shit. You love her for who she is, and she doesn’t give a fuck or two if you don’t like her. Jenni is Jenni, and she lives her life. I want just one ounce of her attitude to run through my veins to give me that extra confidence.

Chapter 12

Double Date at 1,014 Miles

The diner is packed, and time is flying by. Thank God, because I was ready to start pulling my teeth out at the coffee shop today for entertainment. Once again, the pissy-pants waitress, Trena, whom I always relieve, left as soon as she saw me. She still thinks my name is Jodie after working the shift before me for nearly a month. Every time I relieve her shift, she says, “Good luck, Jodie,” and bolts.

Her attitude and dealing with customers would make leaving this job easy. The tips, on the other hand, not so easy. Some nights I make in tips what I make in two days at the coffee shop, but I want time with Lincoln.

Similar thoughts and orders of burgers and chicken strips fill my mind while the hours fly by. Looking up at the clock, I notice it’s six-thirty and only minutes from when I get to see Lincoln. I hope one day this silly lovesick infatuation with the boy simmers down a little.

I decide to send him a quick text. My heart is a little sad he hasn’t texted me all day, but I know he’s really busy.

Me: 30 Minutes

I wait, and no response from him, so I stare at the phone, willing it to beep back at me. Then after checking in on some tables I sneak another peek, and still no response. He’s just busy, he’s busy, I keep telling myself to calm my mind, but every time I almost convince myself, I think about all the times he’s on his phone texting when he’s with me.

The sound of the door opening and another crowd of patrons entering draws my attention. Monica. Monica is leading a group of people to the largest booth in the restaurant. My eyes immediately scan each person to see if Lincoln is with her. Deep down, I know he wouldn’t be, but my brain always likes to remind me how people have hurt me in the past.

Then my stomach drops when reality strikes me. I have to wait on her. My phone finally dings as I round the corner to take menus to her table. Sneaking back around the serving bar I take a quick look.

Lincoln: Hey, cutie pie! I’m on my way. Mind if I ask Tiny & Jewels to tag along?

Me: no it’s fine

Mixed emotions swirl around in my head thinking about Lincoln not texting me all day, Monica sitting in a booth glaring at me, and now Lincoln wanting to bring friends along. I love Tiny and Jewels from the little I know about them, but is Lincoln already tired of me, and needs to fill a void? Does he think it would be easier to cut things off if they are here?

My phone catches my attention again, and I know I should be giving Monica’s table their menus.

Lincoln: Are you okay?

I truly don’t know what to answer, so I throw the phone back onto the shelf and head to the booth with menus in hand. Mentally, I berate myself for throwing the phone. I need to be more careful with it.

“Hi, welcome to Boone’s. Here are some menus. I’ll be back in a sec to grab your drink orders.” I keep it short and sweet and try to get away without making eye contact or any unnecessary conversation with Monica.

About ten steps away, I hear her voice, “Um, waitress. I thought your name was Oakley. What’s up with Jodie on your shirt?”

“Um, just waiting on one with my name on it.”

I hear the ding of the door and know new customers are in the diner, but can’t turn away before she strikes me way below the belt.

“I had to see this for myself. I’m still in shock that Lincoln Wilks would date a no-name waitress. Unbelievable.”

Stunned, I turn around to head to another table and see Lincoln holding a huge bouquet of flowers with Tiny and Jewels by his side. And by the look on his face, he heard every single word she broadcast to the diner.

Swallowing down all the pain Monica just delivered, I continue walking, and when I pass by Lincoln and his friends, I offer a friendly smile.

“Hey, guys, just have seat, and I’ll be with you in a sec.”

I slam the kitchen door behind me and look up to the new cook staring at me with a perplexed expression.

“Sorry, I just need a second,” I say.

“Hang in there. You only have fifteen minutes left of your shift,” he says.

The last thing I want to do is hang in there or go out and face that bitch. I’ve never once had the desire to spit into someone’s food until hers.

The kitchen doors squeak open, and I look up from the shelf I’m leaning on to see Lincoln.

“I’m sorry,” he offers.

“It’s not your fault. Please just leave me alone.”

“Oakley,” he says.

“I said leave me alone.”

“You need to get out of here now,” the cook hollers to Lincoln.

Turning away from Lincoln, I bury my face in the shelf and wish a giant black hole would swoop me up for good, leaving me no choice to run, or stay, or love, or hurt. It would all just be over in a matter of moments. That’s what I want.

“Order up.”

Fifteen minutes. I can do this. Jenni, strengthen your inner Jenni, hold your head high, and serve those motherfuckers their food.

“Hey, guys,” I say as I approach Lincoln’s table.

“Hi,” Jewel says.

“Sorry,” I whisper to Lincoln, “I’m just trying to make it through the rest of my shift.”

Leaning over, I kiss him on the lips and feel his hands grab my ass. I’m not a rocket scientist, but I’m pretty sure this is not something a boss would approve of and I give zero fucks. My Jenni came out to play.

Standing back up, I ask, “What are we eating?”

A voice from Monica’s booth shouts, “We were here first.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Tiny bellows.

His deep voice makes me jump a little.

Lincoln turns around, facing the booth, and says, “Maybe if you weren’t dragging around such a bitch you might get better service.”

The whole booth erupts in laughter, and I’m dying to see Monica’s reaction, but I refuse to turn around and give her the satisfaction of my attention.

Lincoln drags me down into his lap while I take their orders.

“I know what you want, Mr. Wilks,” I say, writing down his usual.

“I want the whole fucking menu,” Tiny says.

“Chef salad here,” Jewels decides. “C’mon, Heath order something,” she hisses at him.

Her sad look is back on her face, so I’m guessing the first day of the semester didn’t go well, or maybe she told her dad about the baby. While waiting on Tiny to make his mind up, I realize Lincoln has snaked his hand down to my crotch.

Turning my head, I whisper, “I’m sad you didn’t text me all day.”

“Sorry, had a shit day. Will never happen again.”

“Why a shit day?”

“My parents.”

“Sorry,” I say kissing his lips again.

“Okay, I want the chicken fried steak with mashed potatoes and brown gravy, with a side of fries and an extra thick shake,” Tiny finally speaks up.

“Jesus, are you sure that’s enough?” I joke.

“I might order seconds since this chicken shit here ordered a fucking salad.”

“Off to my next table,” I say with a plastered fake smile.

“Hey,” comes Tiny’s voice, “Monica probably has a bigger cock than me. She’s always been this obnoxious know-it-all piece of shit, so just take her with a grain of salt.”

Tiny’s words make me laugh, and I realize Monica is simply some insecure bitch who has fucked up more times than she can count and feels the need to treat me like trash because on the inside that’s all she is. I mean, really, whoever can lose the love of Lincoln is truly a world class fuck up, and I refuse to let a self-righteous bitch like her make me shed one more tear. I’ve decided to stay here and try a relationship with Lincoln, so it’s about time I stand up for myself.

I do believe it’s time to let this “C U Next Tuesday” know exactly who owns Lincoln Wilks, and I don’t give two fucks if I lose this job, because I’m fighting the biggest fight of my life. The prize: Lincoln Wilks.

“Ready to order?” I ask the extra-large booth.

All gazes shoot to Monica, and it’s on. She has no idea how ready I am to take her ass down.

She starts with a dramatic eye roll. “Really, it’s about time you take our order.”

“Sorry, was busy serving my boyfriend,” I reply with a smirk.

Monica sneers right back without skipping a beat. “Please, he’s only with you because he feels sorry for you.”

Leaning down, I whisper into Monica’s ear, “Want to guess where Lincoln’s fingers were this morning? That’s right, buried deep in me while you were literally miles away. In my bed with me, making me come like a skyrocket.” Standing taller for the rest of the table to hear me, I ask, “Want a salad with that?”

And in my head, I whisper, “Game over, you rotten bitch.”

Monica’s face turns a sickly green, and she doesn’t place a food order. The bitch can eat oxygen for dinner for all I care. I’d love to inform her she’ll be a shit mother and her future daughter will despise her, but she doesn’t even deserve that from me. And in all reality, self-righteous bitches like her never get the clue.

Finishing up the order from the booth, I throw it at the new cook and wish the next waitress the best of luck. I may or may not have told her to spit in the Cobb salad order. Her mischievous grin lets me know she’ll gladly share a little saliva with any deserving customer.

Quickly I whip off my Jodie shirt as I prepare to join Lincoln. Halfway to his table, I realize I forgot my phone and turn to snag it from under the counter. I notice the lock screen is full of notifications. Sliding it open, I see a dozen texts from my man.

Lincoln: I love you.

Lincoln: My day sucked.

Lincoln: I need a good night. My dad is an ass.

Lincoln: You sitting on my lap was fucking hot.

Lincoln: Fuck, you just bitch slapped Monica.

Lincoln: Okay, I just popped a hard one for you.

Lincoln: PS- please quit while you’re back there.

His texts make me laugh and blush at the same time, and they also remind me of something. Making my way back to the kitchen, I call out, “Tell Old Man Boone I quit.”

The quizzical look on the cook’s face is downright memorable. I know he’s wracking his brain wondering who in the fuck Old Man Boone is. Well, it sounded good in the moment, and I let it fly.

Leaving the kitchen in my black tank and white shorts, I smile for the first time in a long time. It’s not just any smile, but a genuine one. Lincoln made me realize one very important thing last night, and that is I can feel all the emotions I need to feel, I can ride the roller coaster of shame and come out smiling, and most of all I can feel his love without insecurities blinding me.