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Authors: Nicole Dykes

Unsocial (42 page)

BOOK: Unsocial
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Closing the door behind me I glance toward the living room, then
the kitchen, and there’s no Alex. I tiptoe straight to the bathroom and lock
myself in.  I strip and get in the shower washing away the lingering smell of a
night of sex and soothing my aching body.

After I finish washing, I lean back and let the water warm my skin,
and then a knock interrupts, "Brooke, hurry up I've got to pee!"

Alex. Damn. I get out to wrap a towel around my hair and one
around my body. The clothes I bunch up and shove in the bottom of my laundry
hamper, thankful Alex and I don’t share one. Then I open the door to an
obviously
post-sex Alex.
Interesting.

She rushes in, "Thanks, I was about to burst!"

I laugh, "No problem."

I leave and head to my room, but as I pass Alex’s door, which is
standing open, I see a heavily tattooed, massive man that could only be
Jackson, and he’s sprawled beautifully naked on top of her bed.
More than
interesting.
I hear the toilet flush and haul ass to my room before I get
caught ogling Dylan’s best friend in my best friend’s bed.
So awkward.

My door swings open, and she’s standing at the door looking
uncomfortable. "I know you saw Jax in my bed, but don’t judge me.”

I laugh and pull the towel from my head to run my fingers through
the wet tangles. "For what?"

She sits down on my bed, "You know what."

"Alex, I would never judge you."

She flops back on my bed, "I know I have a three-date rule,
and I’ve always stuck to it, but Jackson…I mean, you've seen him! And, oh God,
he looks even better with his clothes off. And technically we have had three
dates."

I look over at her with one of my eyebrows raised, "Okay, now
this I’ve gotta hear.”

"Um, October at the bar, Thanksgiving, and last night. See, three
dates."

I laugh, "You're reaching, like waayy out there for that, my
friend."

She sits up laughing, "Well, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s
gotta do, and if you had had the night like I had last night you would be
counting brief eye contact as a date.  Holy hell, Brooke, he's an animal! Oh my
God, and his dick..."

I cover my ears, "No, no, no, Alex.  Stop right there because
I do not want to hear about how good Jax is in bed and certainly not about his,
uh, dick. Boundaries. Filters. Use them, please.”

She giggles like a teenager and hops up, "Suit yourself, but
man I am sore today."

"La, la, la. I can’t hear you.” We both laugh at my obvious
immature reaction. Just before she opens the door, I decide to ask, because she
is my friend and I do want to know if I should worry about her heart after last
night. “So what does it mean? You and I both know Jackson isn’t into dating. 
He’s even said so himself.”

She shrugs and laughs off my question. “I know all that. We didn’t
discuss anything beyond last night. It is what it is, a New Year’s Eve hookup,
and I’m cool with that.  I’m pretty sure millions of others did the same thing
last night.” I know her, and she may not be in love with Jax, but she’s
definitely in “like” with him. I just hope she keeps her heart out of this. She
grins, “Don’t worry. It was just a good time. No big deal.”

Right. No big deal. Just like Dylan and me.

She opens the door, "I'm gonna take a shower. He’ll probably
sleep for a while." She winks and leaves my room.

After she leaves, I dress in a pair of jeans and another t-shirt.
I feel guilty for not being able to tell Alex about my night, but I don’t want
the lecture or the disappointed looks. I certainly don’t want the looks of
sympathy I know I’ll get. Alex isn’t dumb, and I know that she knows I do have
some feelings for Dylan. There’s no way she would understand or be okay with
what Dylan and I did last night, starting out with lying to her about leaving
because of a client. I suddenly feel 17 again.

In the kitchen, I get ingredients out to make myself a smoothie,
forgoing cooking a big breakfast. And this only makes me think of Dylan and his
family enjoying breakfast out together. And this only makes me sad. I give
myself a mental shake and start throwing stuff in the smoothie maker when Jax
walks in wearing nothing but boxers. My face heats at the sight of his body can
only be described as, uh, mouthwatering. Tattoos cover every available space of
his torso and arms, even up the side of his neck, which I had seen peeks of
before under his t-shirts.  He’s slightly taller than Dylan and quite a bit
more muscular, and that’s saying something about how big he is because Dylan is
in no way a small man. And my face just heats more at the memories of just how
big
Dylan is all over.

He nods over at me as he sits at the kitchen table, "Morning,
you guys have any coffee?"

I shake my head, "Nope; we don't drink it. I can make you a
smoothie," I offer.

He grimaces, "No thanks. How can you not drink coffee?"

I join him at the table, "We just don't."

He shakes his head like he can’t believe his ears, something that
both Alex and I, as non-coffee drinkers, are very used to.  I narrow my eyes
and look at him. I know I’m overstepping my place, but I remember how he
overstepped his with me, and I just dive in with the question, "So, are
you going to wait for Alex to get out of the shower before you leave or just
leave?”

He looks at me amused, "I'm actually taking her out for
breakfast if she wants to go."

Surprised I look over at him, “Oh, uh…okay. So is this like a date
or something?”
I should probably stop this line of questions.

He laughs, "No, I haven't dated someone for ten years."

I nod and say nothing because I don’t want to sound stupid or
immature, but God, I’m nosy, and I’m just dying to know. "Was last night
just a….like a one-time thing then?”
You know, Brooke, if you’re going to
ask grownup questions, then don’t stutter.
I think this because Jax looks
thoroughly amused at me right now.

He rolls his eyes at me, and it irritates me. No, I don’t come
from the land of random fuck nights, dammit.  Okay, I’ve had two, one in high
school that I barely remember, other than just all the awkwardness after, and of
course, there’s last night with his best friend. Yeah, you could say I’m a
novice. But he's been in my business because it involved his best friend, the
way I see it, this is my business.

"I don't know, Brooke. If we want to fuck again, then we
will. I don't follow rules except my own. If I want to fuck someone more than
once, I do. If I want to stay the night or take someone to breakfast the next
morning, I do. I don’t plan for shit except my business and friends."

I nod because I have absolutely no idea how to respond. I do
wonder if he discussed any of this with Alex though because I don’t want him to
get her hopes up, and I know from her many past heartbreaks that she always
ends up hoping for more until the guy turns out to be a jerk. It sounds to me
like Jackson is all about doing whatever he pleases. "Just don't hurt
her."

He leans a little closer to me, "I won't."  A part of me
believes him. I know that Jax is a good guy. He certainly cares about Dylan and
the kids, because he also gave up his life in Oklahoma to come up here to help
Dylan and his family. But I’m still a little leery because Alex isn’t family.

He opens his mouth to say something, and I can tell by the look on
his face that it’s going to be something about Dylan and me, but Alex walks in
dressed in casual clothes.  She sits next to Jax and leans kissing his cheek.
"Good morning."

He turns to her, "Morning darlin’. How would you like to get
breakfast with me this morning?”

She nods, "Sure, I could eat after last night.”

I would love to be able to warn her about being careful, getting
her hopes up, guarding her heart, but she’s already up and grabbing her coat.
So I stay silent.  She’s a big girl, and just like I asked her to trust me, I
need to trust her. Jax invites me, but I decline. I’ve decided he and I have
had enough interaction today.  Being around him makes me think of Dylan, and
right now I want to be alone with thoughts of Dylan, you know, just in case, I
feel like crying.

And thinking of Dylan makes me grab my phone and send him a text
to let him know I'm home. I sit at the table drinking my smoothie waiting for a
response.  After 30 minutes, and nothing, I decide to go back to bed to be
alone with my bittersweet thoughts of last night and the harsh realities of
today.

By Tuesday afternoon, I’ve worked my nerves into a frenzy at the
thought of seeing Dylan again so soon after our night in his bed.  There’s been
barely enough time to come to terms with everything that happened, and the fact
that he didn’t ever reach out even after I sent him the text on Friday after I
got home until last night to confirm today’s visit. Like he said, when he walked
out of his room what our roles would be again.
God, I hate that thought.

I had changed at the office, not sure if I’m invited to dinner or
not, really not sure of anything anymore when it comes to going to his house. I
know nothing should change, but it has, and I know this in my heart.  I also
know I need to set all this aside and start concentrating on the kids.  It’s
been two weeks since I’ve seen them, and if they need me, then I’m going to be
there.

Butterflies swarm in my stomach as I head to the door. I
concentrate on not falling flat on my face as the fresh snow crunches under my
feet. Right now I need to be professional, and ending up face planting because
I’m worried about seeing Dylan, my client, instead of paying attention and
avoiding slick spots would in no way be professional. Of course as soon as he
opens the door all thoughts of professionalism are shot to hell.  
I’m not
prepared for this because I still want him
. I just have to keep reminding
myself, all I am is his social worker now, just like he said before walking out
the door.

I would like to say that it would be easier now, that all the pent
up tension between us is gone.  We had sex, amazing sex, just like we both
wanted and needed. The harsh truth is I can’t believe myself because I can’t
get the memories of that night out of my head. They play on repeat, like a favorite
song on a playlist, over and over. Unfortunately, this only serves to make me
want him more, to relive all those memories out in real life and not just in my
thoughts and dreams.

I ring the doorbell, and Dylan answers the door. Oh shit. He looks
so damn good in worn jeans and a long sleeved tee. Nope, just like I thought,
zero professionalism going on here. My nipples harden uncomfortably in my lace
bra when I look at his lips which only causes me to get wet remembering the
other places on my body he used those same lips. I want nothing more than to
push him toward his room and let him do all the things he did to me New Year’s
Eve and more. I want so much more.  At this very moment, there are at least ten
deliciously wicked things I want us to be doing to each other.

He greets me, casually, "Hey, come on in. It’s cold out
there."

I walk in, and I’m immediately dying to touch him, but he seems so
calm. And I wonder if he feels anything at all.
 
I would be lying if I said that the thought of him not thinking about us didn't
kill me. But judging by his laid-back manner, he must be okay with it just
being one time. Of course, he is because we both agreed that’s what it was. The
problem is I lost the memo and forgot what it said. It’s like he said, I need
to get out of my head and stop over thinking it.

He takes my coat, and his fingers send electric shocks through my
body as they graze my arms. He smiles, "The kids can't wait to see you.
They’re all in their usual spots waiting.  Go on in while I put your coat
away.”

I nod and head into the living room where I'm greeted
enthusiastically with hugs and ‘I missed you’ from Cassie and Gabby.  Michael
lays his book down and gives me a big smile; I can’t miss how he’s trying to
look nonchalant and cool.
God, when did he start growing up?
I suddenly
feel like I’ve been away for months.  Luke gives his customary nod accompanied
by his shit-eating grin that he has down to perfection.  He looks so much like
Dylan, more every time I see him.  I realize at this moment how much I’ve
missed them, and how much I hate that it’ll be another two weeks before I see
them again. How sad.

Dylan finally joins us taking a seat in his big recliner. Again,
looking like he doesn’t have a care in the world. I do notice he averts his
eyes whenever I look over at him.  No doubt wanting to squash any false hope I have
as if I’m even in the position to have hope. There’s no need to rub in the fact
that he got what he wanted, that
we both
got what we wanted, but avoiding
looking at him.

Cassie can’t stop talking about how excited she is about school
starting back up.  Basketball season and cheer are going well of course. Luke
is going to start working at the shop after school and Saturday mornings until
baseball season picks up, and I take note of the excitement in his voice about
this.  I look over and smile at Dylan expecting to see excitement on his face,
but he’s frowning, which quickly disappears when he turns his head quickly to
look out the window at the snow. I don’t even know what to think about that.
Gabby comes over to demand my attention by plopping down on my lap to tell me
everything new thing about Toby that I’ve missed which momentarily takes my
mind off Dylan, sort of anyway.  I can’t help but notice that in the last two
weeks she’s turned into a talkative little thing, but the rest don’t seem to
mind since she went so long not speaking.  After about an hour of conversation,
me telling them about Florida and them telling me about Oklahoma, they all scatter
to different parts of the house to do their thing before dinner.

BOOK: Unsocial
12.77Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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