Chapter Ten
“Do you like your new job?”
The fireworks had been over for two hours. After our picnic had been packed up and retrieved by Dom, we’d found a secluded area on the grass behind the carousel, away from the small pockets of people that lingered, carousing and partying. Occasionally the sound of bottle rockets and finger snaps filled the air, mirroring my current state of emotions. While before my anxiousness about us had been loud and blaring like the bursts in the sky, now it was subdued, shrieking in sporadic flares that died quickly.
Currently, we were lying on the grass parallel to each other, staring at the sky, my feet by his head, playing a game of questions.
The latest was easy to answer. “Yes, actually. I love my job. I love the increase in managerial control. I love working for a place that is on the verge of being something special. I love the staff. And the Pierces—Hudson and Alayna—she’s the one who let you in and he’s¸ well, he’s Hudson Pierce. Everyone knows who he is. They’re the first real friends I’ve had, well, ever.”
I frowned. “No, that’s not right. They’re more than that. They’re family.”
“The Pierces sound like good people.” If he felt any animosity toward the Pierce name because of Chandler, he didn’t let on.
“They are good people.” Another bottle rocket went off in my stomach, a shriek of guilt and confusion regarding Hudson’s brother.
But it was gone quickly, pushed aside by the jolt of want that soared through my body when JC nudged his knee against my arm. “Your turn,” he said, as if he had no idea that my whole side was singing from the nearness of him.
I lifted my head and feigned indignation. “Did you just bump me with your knee?”
The last time we’d played this game, we’d been naked in a bath together. Sex had followed. This time JC had made rules to keep in line with the rest of our date—no touching and nothing serious. It had been a sweet gesture on his part, showing that, even if he didn’t agree with the path I wanted to take with our relationship, he at least understood.
“Purely accidental.” His smirk said otherwise.
“Uh huh.” I settled my head back down so he wouldn’t see the smile I was having trouble hiding. “Are you still living in Los Angeles?” When we’d been together, he’d been living across the country, flying into New York for work a few days of the week.
“I’m not really living anywhere right now. My L.A. home has been sold and most of my stuff is in storage. For the last year, I’ve been in Michigan. Union Pier.”
Union Pier, Michigan. Of all the places I’d tried to imagine him, that had not been one of them. “I’ve never heard of it.”
“It’s an hour or so outside of Chicago.” How many miles had that been from me? Two hours by plane? Three? “It’s a really small town by the lake. Absolutely nothing to do. You have to drive to another time zone to go to a bookstore or see a movie.”
“Were you bored there?” As unhelpful as they’d been, at least I’d had things to distract me from missing him. Work. Family. Chandler.
“I had a piano, thankfully. And I had a lot of time to think.”
I pulled his jacket tighter around me. “About what?”
He paused, then said, “No way am I answering that. You’ve had three questions in a row.” Though I suspected his reasons for not responding were because it would venture into serious territory. “Since when did you become a rule breaker?”
“Since you.” That was maybe verging into off-limits grounds as well, but my desire to move that direction was beginning to outweigh my need to stay in the safe zone.
And it was true. Before him, I’d followed rules to the letter of the law. While I’d never lost that instinct completely, JC had taught me how to give up control. Give it up and give it to him. Could I get there again? Did I want to?
I thought I did. I just wasn’t sure anymore how to let him.
“Yeah, yeah. Blame it on me. Now hush up. It’s my turn. I have a really important question too. Have you ever made out in a park?”
I laughed. “Seriously?” So far, the bulk of what he’d asked had been like this—playful and sexual in nature. Have you ever had a crush on a teacher? What celebrity would you not kick out of your bed? Who was your first kiss? If his line of questioning was any indication, he was as consumed with longing as I was.
“Seriously. I need to know.”
I want to make out with you now.
I wanted to say it. Every inch of me twitched with need for him.
But I was still scared. “Yes,” I answered, knowing that would torture him into asking for an elaboration. Then I’d tell him about the Truth or Dare game I’d played with some neighborhood kids one summer night when I was fourteen. It was sloppy and silly, the boy getting so worked up he’d creamed in his pants after I’d let him touch my breasts—over my shirt, even.
But JC liked to keep me on my toes. “Hmm. Your turn then.”
I propped myself up on my elbows. “That’s all? No follow up?”
“That was all I needed to know.” He mirrored my position. “Besides, we get only one question a round. I’m not a cheater.”
I scowled. “No, you’re a jerk.”
“Hey. No need for name-calling. I’m just playing by the rules.” He was so enticing at that moment. So tempting. My eyes narrowed in on his lips, and I wondered if his kiss was still as demanding as I remembered.
If I let myself find out, it could ruin this ease we’d established. This was simple. This was good.
He was studying me too, I noticed. His gaze hot, even in the dark. My heart pounded against the walls of my chest, and I felt like a mouse, and he the cat about to pounce.
His lips parted. “Take your turn.”
“Uh…” I lay back down, trying to focus on anything other than the husky tone in his words and the perfect shape of his mouth. “What’s something no one knows about you?”
There was a pause, a second of effortless silence that didn’t feel at all like a hesitation but more like the kind of beat that allowed the next words to have emphasis. “I’m still in love with you.”
The ground below me seemed to shift and the sky tilted. His words were a gut punch, knocking the wind out of me. They crowded around me like a cloud of mosquitos, puncturing me with their levity, making me itch and squirm.
His words were not easy. They were not simple.
My reaction was automatic and choked. “Oh my God, you’re a fucking asshole.”
“Tell me how you really feel.” His statement tried to tease, but his tone remained committed.
Like he’d remained committed. From the moment he’d first said the words, through the year that we’d been apart. Through now. Everything he’d said and done had made that evident. He’d fought for me, even when I couldn’t see him fighting. He was sure of us. What else did I need to know about him to know that his love was true?
What else did I need to know to know that my love was as well?
This was the moment to decide—let him in or let him go. I shut my eyes and took a breath.
And then I leapt. “The same. I feel exactly the same.”
Immediately, he lurched, scrambling toward me.
“No, no, stay where you are. Don’t come over here, you’ll ruin it.”
“Too bad.” He settled himself over me, his upper body propped up on his hands braced on the ground at either side of my head.
He pierced me with his gaze, and I had a not-quite-identifiable urge to laugh or throw up or cry.
“Gwen,” he said, and every part of me melted at the word. “I was lost when you met me. And then you found me. You have been the only thing besides revenge that has kept me alive. And really? Living for revenge isn’t any sort of life at all.”
Cry. That’s what the urge was. My throat was thick and my eyes glossy. I’d thought there was no possible way I could be important in his world after Corinne, and here he was telling me that I was wrong.
His lips crept into the hint of a smile. “Did I ruin it?”
“Not even a little bit.” My voice sounded tight, but actually I felt more open than I had in a long time.
The hint turned into a full grin. “Also, you have the nicest tits and pussy I’ve ever seen.”
“Dammit. Now you ruined it.”
“I totally did, didn’t I?”
He hadn’t ruined anything. He shifted and I could feel his cock pressing at my hip, thick and long and tempting. “Fucking asshole.”
“I’m so hard right now.”
“Yeah, I can feel it.” I wanted to feel more of it. Why had I made that stupid no-sex rule? Could I pretend I hadn’t meant it to include every form of sex?
“I need to get off of you, don’t I?”
“You probably should.” First, I hoped he’d kiss me. It was all we could probably get away with in public like this, but I was ready for it.
“Yeah, I should.” He didn’t sound like he meant it, and when he started to roll to his side, I was sure he’d take me with him. Instead he copped a feel of my breast.
“Hey!”
He landed on the ground beside me and shrugged. “You already said I was a fucking asshole. Least I could do was deserve it.”
I laughed, mostly because I needed the release. I turned toward him and propped my head up with one hand. “After all that, you’re not even going to try to kiss me?”
“Nah.”
My jaw dropped and I stared at him incredulously.
“You’ve made out in a park before. I want our first kiss to be memorable. Our second first kiss, I mean. Our first kiss this time around.”
More likely he wanted to drive me crazy. In which case, it was working.
On the other hand, if he’d meant exactly what he said, it was a sweet sentiment. “Every kiss with you is memorable,” I said, softly. “They wipe out memories of any others.”
He shifted so he was also on his side, mimicking me. But he didn’t say anything, and he didn’t move any closer.
I reached my hand out to graze my fingers along his newest tattoo. He closed his eyes and sighed, as if my skin against his was as much of a luxury for him to feel as it was for me to touch.
I moved my gaze from his face to the new design. It was important or he wouldn’t have etched it on his body. Earlier he hadn’t wanted to tell me, and I hadn’t pushed because I assumed that meant I didn’t want to hear. Now, ready or not, I thought I should know. “JC, what does this date mean?”
He let a beat pass then he opened his eyes. “You remember what the other tattoo is?”
I nodded, not wanting to say her name. Then, hating to be a coward, I forced myself. “It’s the day that Corinne died.”
He sat up and gestured to the older tattoo. “This was the day I died.” He thrust the newer tattoo toward me. “And this was the day I started living again.”
I furrowed my brow, not understanding. The dates were only two digits apart. Was it the day they’d buried her? The day Mennezzo was first charged?
“They’re both December, but they’re different years,” he said, interpreting my confusion. Another beat passed, as he seemed to wait for me to figure it out. When I didn’t, he went on. “The new one was the day I met you.”
My breath caught.
Before I could say anything, though, JC had stood and was holding his hand out toward me. “Come on.”
I couldn’t think. My head was spinning, and my heart felt light and tight all at the same time. Instinct put my hand in his, and he tugged me to my feet. “Where are we going?” And did you really say what you just said?
“They’re closing up.” He nodded toward the carousel.
I didn’t want to move my eyes from him, but I glanced over. Just as I did, the ride’s lights flicked off. “The party must be over.”
“I’d say the party’s just beginning.” JC waggled his eyebrows. “We’re sneaking on.” Still clutching my hand, he pulled me with him toward the glass enclosure.
I nearly tripped over myself to keep up. “Sneaking on to do what? We can’t ride it. Even if we could figure out how to make it go, someone would notice.”
He dismissed my concern. “We don’t have to actually ride. We can just walk around.”
“Why?”
“For fun.”
It wasn’t something I’d ever do on my own, but I suddenly wanted to be impulsive and free. Wanted to be impulsive and free with JC.
He led me in an arc, as if he meant to take me to the boardwalk, then at the last minute, doubled back to the edge of the glass structure that housed the carousel. He leaned against the wall and nodded toward the ride operator who was chatting with two of the lingering event guests on the other side of the enclosure, his back toward us.
“He’s not even paying attention. Let’s go.” JC moved stealthily ahead of me, reaching over the fence to release the mechanism that opened the gate. Once inside, he gestured for me to follow, keeping his eyes pinned on the operator as I slipped in. Slowly, so that the metal wouldn’t clank, he closed the gate behind us then crept onto the dark carousel, weaving through the animals until he was out of the operator’s sight as well as mine.
I hesitated for only a moment. Then either adrenaline or the fear of being left alone pushed me forward. I leapt onto the platform and followed the path JC had taken. As I rounded the curve, I noticed the garage-style glass doors at the back of the enclosure had already been shut for the night.
My pulse was already racing, but it ticked up another notch. “What if we get locked in here?” I whisper-shouted when I spotted JC in front of me. He didn’t answer or turn around. “Justin?”
He spun toward me, but instead of answering, he closed the distance between us in two strides, and, without any preface or preamble, wrapped an arm around my waist, tangled his other hand in my hair, and kissed me.
I stood stunned for a moment, while his mouth pressed soft against mine, asking. It only took a second before I answered, throwing my arms around his neck and parting my lips. Instantly the kiss grew deeper, but not so deep that I lost myself. Not so deep that I was consumed. Just deep enough that I could taste what he wanted to offer me, what he wanted to give me completely.
And for the first time since he’d come back into my life, I could imagine myself taking it all. One day soon, even.
But for now, in a dark pocket of shadow, among the wide-eyed horses and brightly painted chariots, he just held me and kissed me. Kissed me until time stilled and I was aware of only us. Kissed me until my lips felt swollen and bruised. Kissed me until I was reeling and dizzy and out of breath.
There, wrapped in each other on the platform, we never moved an inch, and yet my head spun faster than the horses ever had. The memory of my last trip on the carousel was eclipsed by the present moment. This was now, undoubtedly, the best ride of my life.
***
The carousel operator found us eventually.
He abruptly interrupted our kiss then cursed and shouted as we sprinted across the park, bumbling and giggling, drunk on each other.
We walked for a bit after that, stopping at an all-night diner for some pie and ice cream before hailing a cab back to Manhattan.
All too soon, we were standing in the hall outside my apartment saying goodbye. Then kissing goodbye, and not at all the way we’d kissed on the carousel. This kissing was hungry and frantic. This kissing was the kind that didn’t usually end on this side of the door.
I was already in a lust haze when JC asked, “Are you sure you can’t just forget your first-date-no-sex rule?”
“No. I’m not.” If he kept licking along my ear like that, I’d forget my own name.
He sucked my lobe between his teeth then let go. “Are you saying we can forget it?”
“Yes.” God, yes. I turned my head to nibble along his jaw, and I tried to remember why I hadn’t wanted sex in the first place.
And then I did remember. That frightened, nervous, panicked feeling was distant now, but still vaguely present. “No, I’m not sure. I don’t know.” I did know that if we stayed there much longer, Ben would see us on his way out for his morning run. And that didn’t sound like a fun encounter.
JC tore his lips from my skin and pinned me against the door where he could look me squarely in the eyes. “If you don’t know then we should stop. Because pretty soon I’m not going to be able to.”
Honestly, I was surprised that we hadn’t already passed that point. I leaned forward, desperate to reclaim his mouth, but he pulled away.
“You know what? I’m going to go.” He was as breathless as I was. “I know it’s important that we do this time right, and I don’t want you to have any regrets.”
“Really?” I didn’t bother trying to hide my disappointment.
He nodded so hard I wasn’t sure whom he was trying to convince. “Yeah. This is best.”
“It is?” My mind was muddled and I couldn’t decide what was best at all. This did not feel like it was best, no matter what I’d said earlier.
“Painful but best.” He sighed, leaning his forehead against mine. “You don’t have any rules about second dates that I need to know about, do you?”
“No more rules.” I wished I could figure out how to take back this rule. I couldn’t think of anything to say that would convince him I wasn’t making a decision under hormonal duress, probably because I was under hormonal duress.
“Good. No more rules makes me very happy.” The way he said happy, the obvious desire in his dilated eyes—I couldn’t help myself. I moved forward and brushed my lips against his.
He started to return the kiss then stopped, pushing me away firmly with both hands. “No. Uh-uh. This has to. I have to go.”
“Fine. Go.” I peeled his jacket off of me, disheartened that it wasn’t him peeling me out of it, and handed it over.
He didn’t bother putting it on, slinging it over his arm instead. “Sleep well.” He kissed me on the cheek, moving in and out quickly as if I might somehow trap him into staying if he didn’t. Then he started toward the elevator.
“Tomorrow,” I called after him. “Or, today, I mean. Will I see you?”
He turned to me, walking backwards now. “Yes. Second date is definitely happening today.”
“Okay.” I hesitated only a second. “I love you.”
He grinned. “Big words for a first date. You might ruin it.”
“They’re big words any time I say them.” Real big words.
He stopped, and I thought he was about to say it back when, instead, he cursed. “If I say it back, I’m going to have to stay. Go inside.”
I put my key in the lock, but I paused. If I didn’t go inside, would he come back? If he did, would I regret it?
“Inside!” It was an order this time.
With great reluctance, I obeyed. As I did, I heard him calling down the hall behind me, “This is painful, Gwen. Fucking painful!”
I leaned against the door and closed my eyes. God, I missed him already, even though in many ways he was still with me. The smell of him still clung to my clothes, and the feel of his kiss was imprinted everywhere his lips had traveled. His words from earlier played in my ears on a loop. “I’m still in love with you.”
And, yes, I was turned on and horny, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t think clearly. Didn’t mean I couldn’t make a smart decision. There was still so much I didn’t know about him, and maybe I never would, but what I did know was plenty. I knew that I loved him and I wanted him and I enjoyed being with him, and hell, if that wasn’t enough to base a relationship on, what was?
It certainly was more than enough to let him back in my bed.
Goddammit, why had I let him leave?