Chapter 15
Jax
In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m a man who knows what he wants. And I wanted Lizzie from the moment I saw her. The problem is, I didn’t realize just how much.
For the first time in my life I’m walking down the street without checking out every girl. For once I’m not deleting a girl’s number out of my phone. For once I’m looking forward to actually talking to a girl.
When it comes to women, the only feelings I’ve had up until now have been the ones they could take a hold of and stick in their mouths. I’ve wanted just one thing from every hottie I’ve ever met – and once I got it, I was already thinking about the next.
So this; the fact that I can’t wait to see her again even though I saw her in the morning, even though I’ve spent most of the last week with her, even though we’ve fucked through the first few pages of the kama sutra; this is new to me.
Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t me going soft. I’m not about to start wearing bad clothes and exchange the Ferrari for an SUV. I’m still the same guy who knows what he wants, and knows exactly how to get it. It’s just that right now, what I want, only Lizzie can give me.
I’d call it dating, if that didn’t make it sound like something inexperienced high-schoolers do. I’d call it exclusive, but I’m not missing out on anything with Lizzie, she’s got everything a woman could give – inside and outside the bedroom. I’d call it serious, if Lizzie didn’t make me laugh like I’m a stoner at a comedy night. Instead, I’ll call it making her mine – ‘cause that’s exactly what every impulse inside my body is telling me I should do, and I always listen to what my body’s telling me.
Before I go to meet her at the bar, I drop by the site of the Denton development. It’s almost finished, and I roll up the driveway saluting the workers as they pass by on their way home for the night.
When I step out of the car, I make my way to the entrance to look for Luce – she’s always there to give the sign-off for the day. I’m halfway there when Jacqueline performs the greatest magic trick since David Copperfield by seeming to pop out of nowhere despite wearing a red spandex dress so tight it looks like she robbed a Barbie for it, and her cleavage looks like it’s grown by about a third since the last time I saw her.
“Jax! How wonderful to see you!” she says, as she wraps both arms around me and pulls me into her body so tightly I can feel her navel.
“Mrs. Denton, I hope you’re happy with how it’s turning out.”
“All the better for having you here,” she meows, “and please call me Jacqui.”
“Ok, Jacqui,” I smile.
“This is such a wonderful suit, Jax,” she says, as she runs her fingers up and down my lapel. “You dress so well for a man so busy.”
“Thank you. You look very striking yourself,” I say, regretting it immediately. Sometimes I wish I could turn it off, but old habits die hard.
“Do you really think so?” she purrs, pushing out her breasts and rolling her hands down her sides like she’s checking the curves are still there. She spins around and sticks her ass towards me, then spins back and winks. “Do you want to hear a secret?”
I look around. Where the hell is Luce when you need her? Then I look back at Jacqueline and shrug, good-naturedly.
She leans in real close, her hand tucking itself into my blazer and squeezing my hip. “I’m even more striking with my clothes off.”
Just in case I didn’t get the message, she signs off the comment with a gentle blow over the back of my neck.
“Mrs. Denton… Jacqui…” I say, in my most delicate ‘let-them-down-softly’ voice.
“Don’t be shy, Jax. I know about you. I know you think you like those skinny bitches in the clubs. The ones that make you do all the work. I just want you to know, that if you want a real woman, I’m right here. And I’m ready to give you the best you ever had.”
She runs her hands up and down my lapels again as she talks, gripping them and pulling me in like a cop looking for a confession. I reach deep within myself and pull out my most charming, non-sexual smile, before gently pulling her hands away.
“Jacqui, that’s the kind of offer a man would be very stupid to turn down. Ordinarily, you wouldn’t even have had time to finish that sentence. But it’s not going to happen, for two reasons. One, I never sleep with another man’s wife – even one as… tempting as you. And two, I’m kind of a marked man.”
Jacqueline’s face changes from feline sexuality to cat-like envy. “Well, if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.”
I start making my way back to my car. Luce be damned, she can handle herself. “Bye Jacqui.”
I hate doing wheelspins in my Ferrari, it ruins the tires, but on this occasion, I rev the car so fast to get out of there Jacqueline may find some gravel embedded in her dress when she gets someone to take it off of her.
I get to the bar in double-quick time, as if the forces of being repelled by Jacqueline and compelled by Lizzie combined to give me more than the usual boost. I saunter through the entrance completely ignoring the glances and looks that I usually size up for possibilities, until my eyes settle on the one thing I came for – and the one thing I’m determined to leave with. Lizzie.
She’s wearing tight black jeans that make her legs look even longer and tighter than I’ve seen them before, and a simple white top under a leather jacket that would be subtle on any girl that doesn’t have the curves that Lizzie has. For once, it’s me biting my lip like I’m holding back a gasp. Lizzie gets so much hotter each time I see her, that I almost expect her to supernova at some point.
I walk towards her slowly, enjoying the top-to-toe view of a body that will probably make every married man at the bar argue with his wife when he gets home.
“Hey gorgeous,” I say, putting a hand on her back, and leaning in for a kiss.
“Hey yourself,” she says, lighting up, but just a little short of the usual sparkle.
I go for her lips but Lizzie puts her cheek in the way. Something’s up.
“Booth?”
“Sure,” she agrees, leading the way, and offering me the best seat in the house for the erotic show her ass cheeks put on.
As soon as I sit down, Lizzie leans forward with a huge smile on those lipstick-red lips.
“I have news!” she says, clapping her hands together with the giggling excitement of a schoolgirl who’s about to dish out some real lowdown gossip.
“Great,” I say, bringing the waiter over and ordering drinks.
Lizzie watches him leave, before turning that radiant smile back on me. Looking at those lips makes me feel like I’ve had three drinks already – it’s hard to keep focus when a woman is so beautiful it makes you question whether you’re hallucinating.
“So, hit me,” I say. “What’s the news?”
Lizzie adjusts her shoulders, looks down into her lap like she’s got notes down there, then faces me before speaking. “I met someone.”
Napoleon at Waterloo. Pearl Harbor. Utah Jazz in ninety-eight. Foreman getting knocked out by Ali in the Congo. This feels like all of them at once.
You ever want to know what it’s like to be gutted from the inside, get the woman who you were about to change your entire life for to say these words.
“Met someone? Like… a guy?” I say, looking for an out, but knowing that I’m about to bury myself deeper.
Lizzie nods and her eyes sparkle. For examples of two people experiencing such complete opposites of emotion at the same news, this is pretty near the top.
“His name is James. He’s 32, and a pediatrician at Cedars Sinai. I met him at the grocery store today,” Lizzie says, pounding my heart into the paper shredder. “It was… completely random! We just started talking, then went for coffee. I ended up spending the whole day with him! Can you believe it?”
“I…can’t believe it,” I say, trying to find something else to say from the blank space inside of me and failing. It’s all I can do to keep the smile on my face.
“He’s pretty awesome. I mean, not like you – he’s kinda goofy, but confident enough to take a joke. He’s so sweet. You’d really like him.”
You’d really like him? On what planet did women ever learn that this was a thing you could say to a guy? Even if I wasn’t feeling the way I do about Lizzie, this would sound creepy; under the circumstances, it’s the equivalent of sticking a twelve inch drill bit into my ear.
“That’s great news,” I say. “I couldn’t be happier for you. You should go for it.”
Even actors don’t go through this much double-think. They only say things they don’t believe. I’m saying things that are the complete opposite of what I’m feeling.
“Thanks,” she says, only buying it because she’s too lost in her excitement to read the hollowness of my words.
The drinks come and I manage to put some fingers around mine and lift it into the air – don’t ask me how.
“To new adventures,” I say, hoping the self-defeat comes across as my usual dry reserve.
“To new adventures,” Lizzie says, those amazing red lips curving up into a smile I wish I could say was caused just by me.
We sip our drinks – mine longer than hers – and the whisky burns more than usual.
“He coaches a little league team,” Lizzie says, as if talking with her own thoughts. “I mean, isn’t that so sweet?”
I had planned to introduce Lizzie to bondage, but now I’m glad I never got the chance. I’m learning pretty quickly that she doesn’t know when to stop with the torture.
“He has kids?” I say, clutching at straws like a man underwater.
“No. He has a nephew on the team, I think. Other than that, I think he just likes sports.”
I nod agreeably, and suddenly my glass is empty. I gesture the waiter over again.
Lizzie tosses her hair aside, and I repress all memories that it brings up, however pleasant they are.
“You probably already figured this, but… I can’t really go on with the… ‘arrangement.’”
“Yeah, of course,” I say, shrugging again – I sure am shrugging a lot tonight.
“I mean, it was awesome. The most amazing experience of my life. I feel like I should say thank you,” she laughs, “but I guess it was kinda good for both of us.”
“It definitely was.”
“We both know it’s not going anywhere, though. I mean, you’re you, and I’m still… little Lizzie the goofball!” she laughs again.
“Sure. Like I said. No feelings. No commitments.” Yes, I really said that. Yes, it feels like a lifetime ago. Yes, it was meant for Lizzie – I had no idea that I’d be the one who should have taken the advice.
“I mean, we can still be friends, I hope.”
Holy shit. Holy mountains of immovable, God-forsaken ‘what-the-fuck?’ I’ve seen movies, I’ve seen TV shows. I’ve heard this line before. And every time I’ve heard it I’ve thought only one thing: Pathetic. Capital ‘P.’ A line not even I can make sound good.
We can still be friends.
And here it is, being said to me. Jax. The man who can make women come with a look. The man who finds seducing women easier than tying his shoelaces. A man who turned down three women today alone.
The worst thing about that line?
I’m actually glad she said it.
I’m actually glad. I’m actually desperate enough to see this woman that I’ll take being friend-zoned over nothing at all. This is my lowest point. My darkest hour.
“We’ll see,” I say, taking the drink before the waiter can even put it on the table and downing it in one gulp. “Another.”
Lizzie looks at me. Her eyes still gleaming, her smile still pure and oblivious and as unavoidably sexy as it ever was. She sips a little from her drink and grabs her bag.
“Well, I should get going. I’m actually seeing James tonight.” She stands up, before looking at me like I’m a piece of forgotten luggage. “You don’t mind, right? I mean, you’re probably glad for the chance to pick up someone new, I guess.”
I let out a little laugh, and I swear it hurts my face. “Go. Have a good time. You deserve it.”
She leans over and kisses me on the cheek.
“Bye, Jax.”
“Bye yourself.”
For a second she hesitates, and it almost looks like she’s about to say something else. But then she smiles, shakes her head, and backs away. “See you.”
I watch her leave.
It’s the first time a woman’s ever walked out on me.
And I don’t know what the fuck to do.
Book 2 coming May 20th:
Dedication: To my wife, for putting up with me.
Thank you to everyone for reading this book and taking a chance on a new author.
Special thanks to Jen McCoy, Melissa Ann, Jaye Ellen, Hilary Suppes, Candi Kane, Sarah McKenna Ferguson, Angie McKeon, Christine Estevez, and Kylie McDermott.
If I forgot anyone, email me and then go fuck yourself.
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