The Good Life

Chapter ELEVEN



By the time Jake got back from his afternoon senior portrait session, he had messages from nine people wanting to book Boudoir sessions! At $200 per session that could mean an extra $900 for me to put toward my credit cards! And it was only the first day! Jake said he wanted to celebrate by taking me out to dinner.

“I know a lovely Italian ristorante we could go to,” he teased.

“No thanks, smartass.”

We instead went to a Japanese steak house. They sat us in this cute private room with curtains and a couch and we had steak, chicken, shrimp and sake. Even though it wasn’t a “real” date, it was the best date I’d been on in years – maybe my entire life. When the bill came I tried to pick it up, but he wouldn’t let me. I thought that was really sweet.

It started to rain on the way home. We both got soaked just running from the driveway to the house. It was so dark outside, even though it wasn’t even eight o’clock yet. In the summertime, it doesn’t get dark until about ten and Michigan had the most fabulous summer storms. They came in quick, and everything got pitch black, and they left just as fast and everything got bright and dry again, like it never even happened.

As I stood at the bay window and watched the storm, I remembered GLL Challenge #17 was to play in the rain. Maybe it was the sake, but I thought it was as good a time as any to complete that challenge.

“I’m going outside,” I told Jake.

“Huh? What? Why?” He looked confused.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve always wanted to play in the rain.”

I ran upstairs and dug in my closet for the rain boots I’d bought years ago and hardly ever wore. Minutes later I was outside in the street splashing in puddles in my yellow rain boots before Jake even knew what to think. He followed me out and shook his head at me as I splashed in the puddles beside the curb.

“You’re crazy!” he yelled over the sound of the rain. He had on a white t-shirt and the rain gave a whole new meaning to the wet t-shirt contest. I had a grainy view of the tattoos on his chest and the sides of his abdomen. I hadn’t seen those particular tattoos in years and suddenly my mind was filled with flashes of images from The Summer of Jake and Roxie. I saw us in the shower, in my parent’s pool in the middle of the night, laughing under the covers in his room, napping on the couch when no one was home, eating pizza in bed. I could still remember the very first time, that night I asked Jake to take me home with him. Getting his shirt off that night had been a struggle because he didn’t want to stop touching me or kissing me for long enough to get it over his head. When he tried to take mine off, it was the same thing. I could still remember how good it felt once our clothes were finally off and we were skin-to-skin for the first time ever. Sigh.

The tattoos brought back many memories and so many feelings, too. I especially loved the tattoos on his side. They were tribal astrological symbols – one for Leo and one for Scorpio. Those were his grandparents’ signs. His grandparents had raised him until they died in a plane crash when he was six. Those tattoos made me feel closer to him because nobody knew what they meant except Adam and me. Anytime I’d ever heard anyone ask him what they were for, he’d made up some silly story. But for some reason he didn’t feel like he needed to be fake with me, and I loved that.

It was one of those ninety percent humidity days that begged for rain to put us out of our misery, and the rain finally breaking through was such a welcome relief. To have it falling directly on me was even better. It was the perfect ending to a pretty perfect day. There was only one thing that could make it better.

It wasn’t like me to be spontaneous and reckless anymore. Everything fun I’d done all summer was because of Hope. But in doing so, I had rediscovered how fun life could be when I threw caution to the wind and did whatever the hell I wanted.

I didn’t give it a few hours of contemplation or formulate a pros and cons list. I just did what felt right to me. I stepped closer to him, and he backed up until his feet met the curb. His hands were at his side and I reached down and lightly grabbed onto them so he wouldn’t move any farther away. That was when he understood my intentions. But he still made me work for it.

Our faces were so close. I only had to move about an inch forward and our lips would meet, but I hesitated for a moment. It wasn’t because I was unsure if I wanted to finish what I’d started. I definitely did. I just wanted to give him a chance to back away, to make sure that he wanted me, too.

He didn’t back away. Instead he tugged my hands to pull my body closer. That was when our lips met. It was just like in Breakfast at Tiffany’s, minus the trench coat and wet cat squished between us. Seriously, the best director in Hollywood couldn’t have created a better kissing-in-the-rain scene than we did. If I’ve done one thing right in my life, it was that moment right there.

Next thing I knew we were in the house. Up the stairs. In my room. He closed the door behind me and pushed us into it with all the passion and urgency I’d been looking for the day before. We couldn’t get our clothes off fast enough. Just like that night so many years ago, neither of us wanted to let go of each other to get anything off. Even when we did try, it’s very difficult to get wet clothes off wet skin. It was like trying to untie a knot in your shoelaces in the dark with one hand. With every second that went by, we got even more desperate and frantic to get them off.

Once our clothes were in a soggy heap on the floor, he stood back and looked at me. He had that intense look in his eyes again that I’d seen while he was taking pictures of me. I got the impression that he had stopped to give me a chance to back out, but I wasn’t going to.

I knew it wasn’t the brightest idea. There were so many reasons why we shouldn’t do this. But I couldn’t stop if I tried. The way he had bit my neck and sucked on my lips made me feel like a wild animal let out of my cage for the first time. There was no going back in – I was feral.

Once he seemed sure I wasn’t going to change my mind, his urgency returned and he pushed me up against the back of the door by my shoulders. Wet skin smashing into wet skin. It should have been uncomfortable, but it was the opposite. Touching from head to toe, it felt like I was finally where I was supposed to be.

In one fluid move, he put a hand behind each of my thighs and literally picked me up and slid me down right on top of him. Just like that perfect kiss at his frat house so many years before, there were no injuries or “oops” moments. He got it right on the first try. I’m telling you, the guy is smooth.

Caleb and I had moved far away from passionate, I-want-you-so-bad-I-can’t-wait-one-more-second-or-I’ll-die, kind of sex. We had FWP during ovulation only. It was a lot like getting an oil change on my car; the free coffee was nice, but I was only there for maintenance and hoped the guy would do his job as quickly as possible so I could get back to Rachael Ray.

Being with Jake was so much better. Since I was using automotive analogies, I’d describe it as an expensive full-body exterior and interior auto detail that was about eight years overdue. Our hands and lips never left each other. I didn’t want it to be over ever because I enjoyed falling off his cliff. Then again, when it’s that good, it can be quick and still satisfying. By the time we collapsed onto the floor about ten minutes later, I’d already been satisfied twice.

We lied on the floor side by side and looked at the ceiling while we tried to catch our breath and compose ourselves. I knew it was coming, that awkward OMG-WTF-did-we-just-do moment. We couldn’t just cuddle and fall asleep and put the moment off until the morning. We weren’t even on a bed! And even if we were, it wasn’t even dark out yet. And how were we supposed to get dressed when our clothes were wet? As hard as it was to get them off, there was no way they were going back on without an even more embarrassing struggle. Oh, shit, this was bad.

After years and years of planning perfect moments and avoiding the awkward ones, I had developed a certain amount of skill in this area, and I couldn’t help but give this one my best shot. When he seemed pretty much back to normal, breathing-wise, I sat up and silently held up my hand toward him for a high-five.

He turned his head toward me and laughed as his tired hand made its way over to meet mine. “Nice play, Rox,” he said as he sat up, nodding his head in approval.

And that was it. Tension cut. Awkward moment avoided. I should seriously do this shit for a living.

“I’ve never gotten a high-five after sex before,” he said. He looked pretty proud of himself, probably for earning the high-five.

“I’ve never been thrown up against a door before, either. With moves like that you should get a high-five every time.”

“Ha. If you ever want to try it again, so I can really master the move, just say when.”

Is it too early to ask? That’s what I should have said. But I didn’t. I bit my lip to keep myself from speaking and sounding totally desperate. He was probably only kidding anyway.

“I’m just messing with you,” he said.

See?

“We both know this was just a fluke,” he said as he dug through the pile of wet clothes, “so there’s no need for us to have any weird conversation about it later.”

“Excellent,” I said, handing him his t-shirt. Weird conversations weren’t on my to-do list either.

“I gotta get on the computer and start setting up appointments so we can make some money,” he said.

He stood up and managed to get his wet boxers back on. The jeans and t-shirt, we both knew, were hopeless.

I remained seated on the floor and pulled my legs up to my chest just to stop being so exposed.

He kneeled back down to my level so he could look me in the eye.

“Can I kiss you one more time?” he asked.

Gosh, he made my heart melt! He could kiss me anytime he wanted. Any. Time. But I didn’t say that. Another thing I should have said, but didn’t. I smiled at him to let him know it was okay, and he kissed me once more before I scooted away from the door and let him out.

Once he was gone, I got up, threw on my robe and headed down the hall to the shower.

Jake sleeps in the master bedroom with his own bathroom, so I knew I didn’t have to worry about running into him when I left my room. I definitely wasn’t expecting to run into Adam, though! The guy has seriously been home a total of maybe five hours since I’d moved in but, of course, he was there now. He was just coming out of his room with a laundry basket of dirty scrubs when I walked out of mine.

“What’s up, stranger?” he asked with a nod.

“Nothing, just getting ready for a shower.” I tried to act normal, but inside I panicked. How long has he been home? Did he hear anything? Does he know? Omigod!

“From what I hear, it’s about time.”

“WHAT?!” I practically screamed.

“Jake was telling me you had stopped showering. I’m just kidding, man. Relax.”

Breathe out. What a relief.

“Lemme know when you’re out of the shower so I can start my laundry,” he said.

My afterglow started to fade once I got into the shower. I had so many questions in my head, bouncing around in there like it was a pinball machine.

What have I done? Are we ruined? After weeks of awkwardness and getting to know each other and being comfortable with one another again, it was starting to feel like we were really friends. Was that over now? He said we didn’t need to have any weird conversation but things definitely wouldn’t be the same as they were before tonight, weird conversation or not. I really liked having him back in my life, and I wasn’t ready to lose him again so soon.

And seriously, what the hell was that? You’d think I’d have some kind of self-control at my age. I’m not some horny teenager, and this isn’t an episode of Jersey Shore for Christ’s sake! I’m still married, too. What a slutbag! We didn’t even use a condom. What kind of person has unprotected sex with a random guy before her divorce is even final? Not a good person, that’s for sure. In my defense, Jake was anything but random, and if it were that easy to get pregnant I’d be a mom of three in a New York City condo with five digits a month worth of child support right now. But what about STDs? He doesn’t look like he’d have an STD, but if people looked like they had STDs, STDs probably wouldn’t exist because people would not have sex with those people. I mean, who would say to themselves, that guy looks like a walking case of herpes and I totally want to do him? Huh? No one!

I was ashamed of myself. I felt happy, refreshed and satisfied … all with a side of guilt. I needed to get my feelings under control because I was acting more neurotic than was acceptable for someone who was supposed to be only moderately inclined to neuroticism.

I decided to take my dad’s advice for the second time that day and have a drink to calm my nerves. After my shower I put on some of my infamous loungewear and headed down to the kitchen. Adam and Jake were both in there as well. Adam was standing at the island digging through the drawer where we keep the pizza coupons and take-out menus. Jake was looking into the fridge. Neither of them felt the need to acknowledge my presence when I entered the room, and I took that as a good sign. That was normal.

“Is Carmen here?” Adam asked.

I didn’t know who he was talking to or who Carmen was, but Jake must have known because he answered him.

“No,” Jake answered. “I haven’t seen her in awhile. She doesn’t work at The Bar anymore.”

“Oh. I thought I heard some, um, noises upstairs when I got home,” Adam said.

Jake turned around from the fridge with a beer bottle in his hand and our eyes met. He gave me a wicked grin as he twisted off the bottle cap. Without missing a beat he said, “That was probably your sister watching porn upstairs.”

I gasped.

“Damn, Roxie,” he said to me with a gleam in his eye, “you could at least turn the volume down. You’re not the only one who lives here, you know.”

I probably should have been mad, but I laughed so hard I had to bend over and hold onto my stomach because I was afraid I might rupture something. In the middle of my laughing fit I snuck a look at Jake. I saw him bite his lip, probably to keep himself from laughing, too.

“You guys are disgusting,” Adam said sounding a little annoyed. “I’m gonna order take-out. You guys want anything?”

“No, thanks,” we both said at the same time.

I pulled a bottle of Riesling out of the fridge and, without a word, Jake took it from my hand, opened it with a wine key and poured me a glass.

“Thanks,” I said when he handed the glass to me.

Our fingers touched. I smiled. He grinned back at me. It was one of those sneaky half-grins, the kind exchanged only by two people who shared a secret. And I believe I’ve already mentioned how much I like secrets.