So Not Meant to Be, page 29
“I think it’s a brilliant idea, JP.”
“Yeah?” he asks, looking insecure.
“I do. Is this something that would fulfill you? I know you hate what you do now, so would this help with that?”
He sifts his hand through his hair as he stares out over the sea of black in front of us. “I really do. I’d actually feel like I’m doing something beneficial. And being the face of that, the face of collaboration—assisting those who need that relief—now that’s something I could be happy with.”
“When are you going to approach him?”
“When we get back. I still have some things I have to map out and, of course, I need to hit up Breaker for a numbers breakdown. I have a few questions about write-offs for him, as well. And then I’ll write everything up, put it in a proposal, and deliver it to him. I know how he likes professional presentations, so I’ll make sure it’s delivered the way he likes it.”
“What if he says no?” I ask.
“Then he’s a total self-centered ass and I’d be set in stone on selling my stock and finding a company or a passion in life that fulfills the need I have. I love my brothers, and I’ve done everything they’ve asked of me, and now I think it’s time they step back and see what I need.”
“Wow, JP, is it weird to say I’m proud of you?”
“Nah, not sure I hear that often, so it’s nice.”
I lean against his chest and say, “Well, I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks, babe.”
JP: Where are you right now?
Kelsey: Just finished up a meeting with Regis. I’m pretty sure he sneered at me twice but covered it up with an eye twitch. It was entertaining.
JP: Did he give you shit?
Kelsey: No. He was pleasant and agreeable.
JP: Smart man. Well, I’m on my way to the penthouse. Just got done with an interview with The Gazette. I was going to pick up some Pho. Want some?
Kelsey: You don’t mind?
JP: Why would I ask?
Kelsey: True. Yes, please. Sounds amazing.
JP: I just get the original. Do you want the same?
Kelsey: Yes, that works. I’m headed back soon. Should I pick us up dessert?
JP: What did you have in mind?
Kelsey: It’s going to be a surprise.
JP: Why am I worried?
Kelsey: Because, although innocent in your eyes, I’m still a wild card.
JP: Very true.
I DAB my mouth with a napkin and set my container on the coffee table. When JP arrived, we both changed out of our business clothes. He changed into a pair of shorts and nothing else—shocker—and I put on a pair of shorts and a simple T-shirt. I also washed off my makeup and threw my hair into a clip to keep it out of my face while I slurped up noodles.
We decided to turn on The Office for background noise while we ate and talked. I found out that Dwight is JP’s favorite character, Michael being a close second. And I, of course, being the romantic, said Jim and Pam are my all-time favorites. JP just rolled his eyes at that.
Also found out JP would “bang” Jan easily, have a drunken night with Meredith, and cuddle up to Phyllis on a cozy night. I admitted to having a slight thing for Ryan, and possibly interested in a wild night with Robert California, which of course grossed out JP and ended the conversation.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had Pho before,” I say. “I’ve always heard about it and wanted to try it. I hate that I’ve waited this long. It was so good. Thank you for bringing it home.”
JP, who was done about ten minutes ago, leans his head against his propped-up hand and asks, “What’s your favorite cuisine?”
“Mexican.”
He nods. “Fuck, I could’ve guessed that. Those tamales your mom makes are fucking killer. And her homemade refried beans. Hell, I’d do anything your mom wanted for them right now.”
I smile. “I know how to make them, and it’s been said that I make them better than my mom.”
JP’s eyes narrow. “Says who?”
“My mom.”
“Okay, so what do I have to do to get you to make me some?”
“How about this—if you’re not doing anything tomorrow night, we can make them together.” When he doesn’t answer right away, I ask, “Oh … do you have something going on tomorrow? I shouldn’t have assumed. You have been spending quite some time with me.”
“Kelsey, chill. I’d love to make some tamales with you. I was just thinking about a meeting I have at four, but it shouldn’t take long. Should we start at six?”
“That would be perfect.”
“I can pick up the ingredients if you want.”
I shake my head. “No, that’s okay. I’m particular about brands. Trust me, it makes a difference.”
He holds up his hand. “Don’t want to get in the way of the chef. Just let me know how much I owe you.”
“JP, do you really think I’ll take your money?”
“No … should I grab dessert?”
I smirk. “I think we’re starting a trend.”
“Yeah, one that’s killing my six-pack.” He pats his stomach.
“Doubtful. You still get up early and work out.” I point at his stomach. “Let me see.”
He slouches in his seat and puffs his stomach out, making a poor attempt at a gut. It’s poor because I can still see the outline of his abs.
“Stop that.” I poke his belly.
“Don’t play with my gut. I’m sensitive.”
“Oh my God, that’s not a gut. I can still clearly see your abs. Nice try.”
“Well, if I keep it up, no woman will want to see me naked.”
That makes me actually laugh out loud. “Once again, doubtful. I’ve, uh … seen enough to know that any woman would want to see you naked.”
His brows raise in surprise. “Kelsey Gardner … tell me more.”
“Oh, Jesus.” I roll my eyes. “This is why I hesitate to compliment you. I knew this was going to happen.”
He scoots closer and wiggles his brows. “Were you impressed with my body? How about my penis? Did you like the old log between the legs?”
“Eww, who says that?”
“Who says eww when referring to a man’s prized possession?”
“Someone who’s responding to a person who’s being obnoxious, which is you. Your penis isn’t a log, it’s … a regular penis.”
That makes his face fall in disbelief. “A regular penis? You think I have just a regular penis?”
“Well, yeah. I mean, it doesn’t have any adornments and, sure, it’s well kept, but there’s nothing super special about it.”
“Um … not to sound like a fucking voyeur here, but I’ve been in enough gym locker rooms to know my penis isn’t regular. Just because it’s not pierced doesn’t make it ho-hum. There’s a lot to my penis that you don’t know about. And the length and girth alone are probably better than anything you’ve had.”
“How do you know the kind of penis I’ve had in my life?” I challenge him, humor in my voice.
“Given how innocent you are, most likely those penises have been regular. Mine is anything but regular.”
“Said every man ever.”
His eyes grow dark and all humor fades from his face. “Do I need to take my cock out right now?”
“No, that’s okay. I can still remember how it felt when you sat on my face. Very … fleshy.”
“That’s because it is fleshy.”
“I always thought penises were supposed to be soft like velvet, you know? I didn’t get that from you.”
“Where the fuck did you hear that? And what cocks are you hanging out with that are velvet?”
“Ones in romance novels.”
He snorts. “If a cock is velvet to the touch, then the man fucking glue-gunned some fabric to his manhood. Dicks are flesh, and when they’re hard, they’re stiff and veiny. I’m sure you can recall my hard cock. You came in your lingerie, after all.” He gives me a pointed look and I can feel my cheeks heat up. Walked right into that one.
“I came because of the work I put in.”
“Bullshit,” he says. “You came because of the moment you were in.”
“Possibly, but we can’t ever be sure now, can we?”
“I know for sure. You wouldn’t have come like that if I wasn’t there, egging you on, telling you how to touch yourself, grabbing my cock and enticing you.”
I just shrug, because I know he’s right, but I like pushing his buttons.
“Do I need to show you again? Because I will.”
“I know you will, and it’s really not necessary. How did we even get on this topic? Weren’t we talking about dessert for tomorrow? Let’s get back to that. I think it would be lovely if you picked up dessert.”
“Who says I need to pick it up …”
I press my palm to his face and push him away. “It’s either dessert we can eat, or no dessert at all.”
“I can eat my dessert.” He wets his lips.
Oh hell.
“Stop it. You’re making me—”
“Aroused?” He waggles his brows at me.
Yes.
“No. You’re just … you’re making it weird. And I don’t want it to be weird between us.”
“There’s nothing weird about this conversation. Friends can talk about this stuff. Go ahead, tell me the craziest place you’ve ever had sex.”
“Why? So you can just say how vanilla I am?”
“I never said you were vanilla. I said you were innocent. There’s a difference. A vanilla person never would’ve masturbated in front of me.”
Once again, my cheeks heat up.
“Well, that was—God, I hate what I’m about to say.”
“Just say it. We’re buddies now, right?” His one eyebrow raises in question.
“I guess we are.” I roll my teeth over the corner of my lip before I say, “Well, it wasn’t sex, but what we did was probably my most provocative experience. Which, I still don’t understand how that all happened, and I don’t care to hash it out. But, yeah, everything else has been pretty bland in bed. Nothing more than that.”
“Shame,” he says. “If you were mine, we wouldn’t just fuck in the bed.”
“Oh … I’m sure you have a giant list of odd places you’ve, uh, you’ve had sex. So, instead, I’m going to ask, what was your favorite place?”
“Hot tub,” he says without even giving it a second thought. “Fucking in the hot tub. Christ, I love it.”
“Really?” I ask. “It doesn’t get all watery and weird?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “There’s something about a naked woman in the hot tub, fucking her from behind … yeah, I love it.”
“Oh.” I clear my throat. “And, uh, how many times have you done this?”
“Not nearly enough and not with the right person yet.”
“How do you know it’s not the right person? Clearly, you’ve enjoyed it.”
“Because I know there could be so much more intimacy involved. I’ve had just random fucks, but with the right ambiance, with the correct amount of foreplay, I know it could be explosive.”
*Gulp*
Yeah … I could see that.
“What about you?” he asks. “Do you have an ideal situation planned in your head where you’d have the best sex of your life?”
“Not really. I just know that when I find the right person, everything will just click and I won’t have to try. I won’t have to imagine these romantic situations, but rather just live in the moment and let them happen.”
“And you haven’t had that yet?”
I shake my head. “No. For a girl who’s obsessed with love, it’s sad how my love life has turned out.”
“Not sad, you’re just not settling, and I think that’s smart. You will find the right person.” He tips my chin with his forefinger. “But in the meantime, unleash the secret you’ve been holding all night. What’s this dessert you got us that you won’t tell me about?”
Anticipating his reaction, I can’t hide my smile as I get up from the couch and retrieve the bakery box from the fridge.
“Should I be scared by that smile?” he asks when I sit back down across from him.
“Possibly.” I flip open the box and reveal the two dollar-sized penis cookies on a popsicle stick. “I bought us penis cookies, covered in white and dark chocolate.”
I look up at him and wait, grinning like an idiot. The corner of his mouth ticks up, and then he smiles. He picks up the white chocolate cookie and examines it, twisting it from one side to the other. “I’ve never had a dick in my mouth, but there’s always time to change that.” Then he takes a large bite and chews. “Hell, this penis is good.”
I snort so hard I feel droplets of snot come out of my nose. Attractive, Kelsey.
“And so lifelike.” He examines the cookie again. “Now this, Kelsey, this would be average. Your boy … not so much.” Then he takes another bite and I can’t help but think he’s so freaking right.
JP: Do you hear that?
Kelsey: Is someone having sex? I thought the other people on this floor are across the way.
JP: They are. It’s not them. It’s below us. I just looked. People are fucking on the balcony.
Kelsey: Seriously? Where everyone can see them?
JP: LOL. Oh, Kelsey.
Kelsey: What? That’s concerning, don’t you think? “Caught with your pants down” is a real term.
JP: But that’s the excitement of it all, getting caught.
Kelsey: Let me guess—having sex on a balcony isn’t something new to you.
JP: Not so much.
Kelsey: Shocking.
JP: Are you saying I’m a bit of a man-whore?
Kelsey: I don’t think we need to label our sex lives. You just have a more frequent one.
JP: Very. Want me to teach you a thing or two?
Kelsey: How did I know you were going to suggest that?
JP: Because I’m becoming a good friend and you know me inside and out.
Kelsey: Sort of. Hell, I think I talk to you more than my sister now. Granted, she’s been busy with the wedding.
JP: Do you have any other friends?
Kelsey: Yeah, a few girlfriends, but unfortunately, we’ve slowly grown apart because of my business. The hustle doesn’t allow for many friends.
JP: I get it. Well, you have me now.
Kelsey: I do. And I’m grateful for that.
JP: So … do you want to sit out on the balcony and listen to the fuckers?
Kelsey: … good night, JONAH!
JP: Ooo, say my name again. I like it.
Kelsey: *Sigh*
KELSEY: Thank you for the mid-morning smoothie delivery. How did you know I needed this more than anything right now?
JP: Caught a glimpse of you when I was walking through the Angelica with Huxley on FaceTime. Had it delivered right away. You look tired, babe.
Kelsey: The fuckers were really going at it last night.
JP: Is that really what was keeping you up last night?
Kelsey: My mind was racing, thinking about all things business. You know how it goes.
JP: I do. If you want, we can skip the dinner tonight and just hang, or do something else. Not sure what you like to do to decompress.
Kelsey: No, I still want to make dinner, unless you don’t want to.
JP: Babe, if I get to spend time with you, I don’t care what we do.
Kelsey: Well, okay then …
JP: Was that a weird comment?
Kelsey: It was unexpected.
JP: I just feel my best around you. Sorry if that’s weird, but it’s true.
Kelsey: It’s not weird. Makes me feel like I mean something.
JP: You do, babe. You mean a lot.
“OKAY, NOW ADD THE ICE,” I say, as my hands are wrist-deep in the masa.
“Sure,” JP says, while working around me. The pork has been cooked, I cheated and put it in the crockpot this afternoon, and we already prepared the sauce. I thought it was cute when JP was in awe over the dehydrated peppers and how we rehydrated them and then blended them up.
“And from here, we mix for about ten to fifteen minutes with our hands.”
“Oh, shit, really?”
“Yup.”
“Okay.” He maneuvers around and awkwardly stands next to me, but can’t quite get the right angle until he finally mutters, “Fuck it,” and stands behind me. He reaches around my arms and puts his hand in the bowl, his head right next to mine. “Is this okay?”
His chest is plastered against my back and the rough scruff of his cheek is rubbing against mine, driving my internal temperature up another ten degrees. But I’m not going to make a big deal about it so I nod.
“That’s fine. As long as you’re comfortable.”
“I’m good, babe. What perfume do you wear, by the way? Fucking kills me.”
“Dolce and Gabbana, Light Blue.”
“Hell, it smells good. Not that I should be saying that while standing next to you like this, but it smells really fucking good.”
“Thank you,” I say as the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention.
The last few days have been … comforting. Spending all this time with JP makes me realize that he truly is a good guy. When his mind is clear, when he’s happy, he’s so open and honest and a good time. He jokes around—like he used to—and I hate to say this, but he sort of makes me feel alive. Like a part of me has been missing and he’s woken it up.
I feel excited to see him, thrilled to get a text from him, and count down the minutes until our next planned non-date. Within a very short amount of time, he’s become one of my best friends. Never would’ve expected that.
“This is kind of fun. I feel like a cat, massaging a gut.”
My hands pause as I turn just slightly to look at him. “What kind of analogy is that?”
