Jaked, page 13
"Don't bother!" I called out. "He already paid for it! Remember?"
Did she hear me? I had no idea. I glanced around the rest room. Everyone was staring. Now, with Bianca gone, the only person actually being stared at was me. "Um, sorry about that," I muttered. Without bothering to dry my hands, I dashed toward the door and plunged through it.
Outside, Jake was still waiting in the same exact spot. He must have seen Bianca leaving, but he didn't say a word, and neither did I.
Besides, what was there to say?
He took my soggy hand in his and started leading me toward the main entrance. By the time we snaked our way through the crowd and out of the building, the car was already waiting.
Jake opened the rear passenger side door and motioned for me to climb in. I settled myself into the center spot and waited for him to push the door shut and send me on my way.
He didn't. Instead, he climbed inside and settled himself beside me.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
He gave me a curious look. "Getting into the car."
I glanced toward the museum. "But don't you want to stay?"
He pulled the car door with a decisive thud. "No."
"Why not?"
"Because," he said, "you're not staying."
"Oh," I said. "Is it because you don't want me at your place? You know, without you there to keep an eye on things?"
"I don't know," he said. "Are you planning to rob the place?"
I glanced again toward the museum. "But what about Bianca?"
"Last I heard, she's calling a cab."
"Really? When did you hear that?"
"Five minutes ago."
I winced. "Sorry about that."
He gave a soft chuckle. "Don't be. I'm paying for it."
"Oh. Well, um, sorry about that too."
As we pulled away from the curb, I watched through the car window as the museum slid out of view. It should have been an amazing night. In truth, it had been an amazing night, right up until the moment it wasn't.
Inside the car, I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. I didn't feel like making small talk, and I sure as hell didn't feel like discussing anything of importance. The motion of the car, all that champagne, the pure exhaustion, it was all taking its toll.
I hadn't even danced with him. I should have danced with him. But stupidly, I'd thought there was plenty of time. I'd been wrong.
And now, I'd probably never get to dance with him. Too bad too, because I'd been dreaming of that since I'd been seventeen. Tired of thinking about the present – or heaven forbid, my uncertain future – I settled back to think about the past.
Chapter 29
It was the summer I turned seventeen.
"You're not actually gonna do it?" Lizzie said.
"Oh yeah?" I said. "Just watch me."
We were standing on the darkened alley behind Razer's, a hometown pub that had dancing on Saturday nights. Jake was inside. I was sure of it. I'd seen his motorcycle outside, along with the bikes of two of his closest friends.
Lizzie looked up toward the small window. "How do you know it goes to the rest room?" she asked.
"Selena told me," I said.
"Your sister?" Lizzie said. "But she's not twenty-one either."
It was true. Selena was nineteen, two years older than me, but still two years away from the legal drinking age. Yet somehow, she'd gotten a fake ID, probably courtesy of her boyfriend, Jake's brother, who had some interesting connections that Selena rarely discussed.
Looking at the window, I wondered if I'd be able to fit through it. From down here, the window looked tiny – just a thick, horizontal slab of hazy glass, propped open by some unseen mechanism.
Too bad I didn't look more like my sister. I'd have simply borrowed her ID and gone straight through the front door. But I didn't. So instead, I was standing underneath that foggy window and wishing I knew for sure what exactly was on the other side.
Supposedly, Lizzie and I were spending the night above my Mom's coffee shop, just a few blocks away. In reality, I was making good on a dare. That was the official reason. Unofficially, I was determined to dance with Jake Bishop, just like I'd always wanted to.
"He probably doesn't even dance," Lizzie said.
That's where she was wrong. I knew him. He was the kind of guy who was up for anything.
Most of the guys that I knew hated to dance. Probably, they were afraid of looking stupid. But Jake, he never cared what anyone thought. And no matter what he did, he never looked stupid.
"He will if I ask him," I said, sounding a lot more confident than I felt. Every once in a while, he'd let me hang on the fringes with him and his friends. Sometimes, I felt like their mascot or something, like a kitten or a puppy, too eager to please and too inexperienced to fully fit in, no matter how hard I tried.
Funny too, because I tried like crazy.
Maybe I amused them. Or maybe I got a pass for being Selena's sister, not that she ever hung with that crowd. But as for me, I loved almost all of them, especially Jake. He was a twenty-two-year-old bad-ass with a terrible reputation. Until now, I'd been the kid who adored him. But I wasn't a kid anymore, and it was time for him to see that with his own two eyes.
I looked down at my skimpy black top and short black skirt. "How do I look?" I asked.
Lizzie grinned. "Slutty."
"Hey!"
"It was a compliment," she said. "Honest."
"Oh. Then, uh thanks."
Near the delivery doors, we'd found a rickety old ladder, along with a few empty crates. I'd skipped the crates and gone straight for the ladder, dragging it underneath the window, where it now stood waiting.
I reached into the tiny pocket of my skirt and handed Lizzie the key to my Mom's coffee shop. My heart was hammering, but I couldn’t help but smile. "See you later on," I said.
"Wait," she said. "After you go in, should I move the ladder? Or leave it?"
I gave it some thought. If things worked out tonight, I'd definitely be needing that ladder again in the future. No need to give the pub-owners a heads-up. "Can you put it back where we found it?" I asked.
She nodded, and then paused. "But if the ladder's gone, how will you get out?"
"Easy," I said. "I'm gonna walk out the front door."
And if I was really lucky, Jake would be joining me. For once, I could be the girl on his arm. As long as I'd known him, he'd never had a serious girlfriend. But he had girls. Lots of girls. And I heard things too.
One of these girls, Roxie Claymore, who was like five years older than me, claimed he was the best lay in the tri-city area. Even if she hadn't said it straight to me, that didn't mean I wasn't listening. Jake didn't know it, but I'd been saving myself for a reason. Someday, I vowed, Jake Bishop would be my first.
Lizzie took the key and stuffed it into the pocket of her jeans. "Remember," she said, "you promised to tell me everything." Her voice lowered. "And I mean everything."
After a quick nod, I started climbing. Lizzie moved forward and gripped the base of the ladder, holding it steady as I climbed. When I reached the top, I peeked through the hazy glass. I saw the outlines of a single bathroom stall, along with one lone sink. I gave the glass a tentative push and peered down through the slim opening.
The tile floor was a long way down, but just underneath the window was a sturdy-looking metal cabinet. It wasn't that far down. I wriggled forward until the upper half of my body was firmly inside the rest room.
I was halfway there.
Sure, my clothes might be getting grimy, but I'd worn black on purpose, just in case. Besides, lots of Jake's girls dressed in black, so he must really like it, right? I felt myself smile.
My smile faded when I noticed something else – urinals on the side wall. Oh crap. This was the men's restroom? I felt myself swallow. Should I jump inside fast? Or leave while I still had the chance?
In front of me, the restroom door opened.
I heard the hum of music and rowdy voices. I tensed, holding myself motionless, half in the window, and half out. A moment later, the door opened wide. Someone walked through it and stopped short.
My heart skipped a beat, and my hands grew clammy.
It was Jake.
Chapter 30
Standing just inside the restroom door, Jake looked up at me with an expression I could only describe as perplexed. My lips parted, but no words came out.
Embarrassment wasn't the only reason for my silence. It was the sight of Jake. He looked utterly amazing in dark jeans and a thin dark T-shirt. The cotton fabric clung to the lines of his lean, muscular physique, making me almost forget where I was or what I was doing.
Under any normal circumstance, I would have stopped to watch him. But this situation was anything but normal. If I were still a kid, I swear, I'd have closed my eyes and pretended to be invisible.
But I wasn't a kid, and I refused to look away. Our gazes locked. His dark gaze probed mine with a look so penetrating, I swear, it pierced my soul.
The silence stretched out until one corner of Jake's mouth turned upward. "How's it going?" he said.
"Uh, good." I snuck a quick glance over my shoulder, toward the half-open window. If I crawled out now, was there any chance he'd forget this had ever happened?
I studied his face. Nope. I was making an impression alright. It just wasn't the one I'd been going for.
My feet were still touching the ladder's upper rung, but it was the metal window frame that held most of my weight. The frame dug into my hips, and I wriggled forward just a fraction, hoping to ease some of the pressure.
I glanced at Jake. Shouldn’t he be helping or something?
I envisioned him rushing forward, easing me out of the window and gathering me into his strong arms. He'd kiss my forehead, tenderly at first. And then, his lips would trail downward until they met mine in a long, loving kiss.
That's all it would take. He'd realize that I was finally all grown up. Nothing else would matter – not our age differences, not the fact my sister had warned me to stay away from him, and certainly not the fact that a hundred other girls would kill to take my place.
I gave him a pleading look.
Any minute now.
He didn't move.
A sigh of frustration escaped my lips. "Wanna help me down?" I asked.
The question had barely died on my lips when the door behind Jake started to swing open. My heart jumped, and my body tensed. With barely half a glance, Jake rammed his foot backward, slamming the door shut with a loud thud.
"Hey!" a guy yelled from the other side. "What the hell?"
"Out of order," Jake said.
"But I've gotta go. C'mon!"
"Then use the girl's room," Jake said.
"No way!" the guy said. "There's girls in there."
"Yeah? So deal with it," Jake said.
When the door started to swing inward again, Jake turned around. He opened the door just a crack and stared out at whoever was on the other side. After a long moment, I heard the same guy's voice again. "Uh, I'll come back in a few. Sorry, man."
Wordlessly, Jake slammed the door shut yet again. Slowly, he turned to face me. His face had lost any trace of good-humor. "Time for you to go," he said.
I stared down at him. "What?" I said. "No way. I'm not going anywhere."
Silently, he looked up at me, his expression stony.
The ridiculousness of my statement slowly caught up with me. I cleared my throat. "Well, I'm not staying here in the window. Obviously. I mean I'm coming inside. You know." My voice cracked. "With you."
Something about his demeanor was making me feel younger by the minute. I didn't like it. I wasn't a kid anymore. Why couldn't he see that?
His gaze dipped briefly to my tank-top before returning to my face. "You know what kind of people hang out in this place?" he said.
"Uh, well, you hang out here so—"
"Yeah," Jake said. "And guys like me."
I stuck out my chin. "There's girls too." That stupid window frame was killing my hips. I wriggled forward another fraction and gave him another pleading look.
Jake's jaw tightened. He looked away. "Get out," he said.
"What?"
"And don't come back."
"But—"
From somewhere near my feet, I heard Lizzie's voice call out, "Hey, Luna! Why'd you stop?"
I stifled a groan. She was supposed to be long-gone by now. I reached back and gave her a small shooing motion.
Either she didn't see it, or she totally misunderstood, because the next thing I knew, she was calling out in a loud sing-song voice. "Go on, lovergirl. Don't keep Jakeepoo waiting."
My face burst into flames, and I started to sweat. A trickle of perspiration inched down my back. Below me, the ladder started to shake. Oh crap. Was she seriously climbing up after me?
Soon, I heard Lizzie's voice, closer now. "Nice thong," she said, "Do you know, I can totally see your ass?"
"So?" I turned my head and gritted out over my shoulder. "Then don't look."
"Why?" she said in that same teasing tone. "Worried Jakeepoo will get jealous?"
I turned around as far as I dared. "Seriously," I hissed, "shut up!" I returned my attention to Jake, who was eyeing me with that same stony expression. "She's just kidding," I told him.
Almost losing my balance, I turned again to call over my shoulder. "Seriously Lizzie. Just go away. Okay?"
From inside the restroom, Jake spoke. "You too," he said.
I turned to stare at him. "Huh?"
Behind him, the door started to swing inward again. With the sole of one foot, Jake kicked it backward, slamming it against the door-jamb.
"What the fuck?" a male voice yelled. I recognized the voice. It belonged to one of Jake's friends – a guy called Loke, short, apparently for Loco, if any of the stories were true.
"It's out of service," Jake said.
"Jake, you fucker," the guy said. "Let me in."
"In a minute," Jake said.
"I don't got a minute," Loke yelled. "I've got a new meat-sleeve waiting." He laughed long and hard. "Drunk off her ass too. Ten bucks she goes ass-to-mouth."
I felt my brow wrinkle. What did that mean?
Jake turned his gaze on me. "Get out," he told me.
"But—"
His muscles tensed, and his voice grew harder. "And don't come back."
I blinked hard, embarrassed to realize my eyes were tearing up. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to think of something to say.
I heard a couple of loud knocks, followed by Jake's voice. "What's the matter with you?"
I glanced up, expecting him to be looking at the door. But he wasn't. He was looking at me.
I bit my lip, choking off a sob before it escaped. Desperate to leave before I totally lost it, I started scrambling backward.
"Watch it!" Lizzie called from below. "You almost kicked me."
"Then move it!" I yelled.
Soon, the ladder shook with her movements. My feet found the next-lowest ladder rung, and then the one right below. I stopped. My head remained the only thing inside the building. I raised it to give Jake one last look.
He stood, with his arms crossed and his back against the door. He wasn't even looking at me. He was looking down at his shoes. He was shaking his head.
I waited.
He still didn't look.
So I found the next ladder-rung and kept on going.
After that, I was never welcome anywhere near him or his friends. For a while, I hated him. He'd been the guy of my dreams, and he'd made me feel young and stupid, just when I'd been ready to become a woman.
And I never did get that dance.
Chapter 31
His voice was soft. "Luna."
"Shhhhh…" I said. "Just five more minutes. Okay?"
"Want me to carry you?" he asked.
"No," I mumbled. "Just hit the snooze button, alright?"
A soft chuckle sounded in my ear. "Snooze button. Got it."
Awareness hit me like a sack of potatoes, and I bolted up in my seat. Oh crap. I wasn't in bed. I was in the back of Jake's car. I glanced outside. We were idling outside Jake's building.
How long had I slept? Had I snored? Drooled? I reached a hand up to my chin. It was dry. Thank goodness. "So, I guess I fell asleep, huh?" As if I didn't know.
"Yeah, but I could still carry you."
I gave him a dubious look. "What? Over your shoulder?"
He grinned over at me. "If that's what you want."
"I'll walk. Thanks."
"My loss," he said, pushing open the car door. He held it open while I got out on legs that still felt way too wobbly, just like my thoughts. The elevator ride was short and silent. Either Jake was giving me time to wake up, or he had nothing to say. That was good, because my thoughts were far too jumbled to discuss anything of any importance.
Once inside his penthouse, I stood, feeling foolish, while he flicked on some lights. It wasn't even midnight, on a Saturday no less. The night was still young. I was dressed up. So was he. Was he sorry that I'd pulled him away from all the action?
"Are you sure you don't want to go back?" I asked.
Across the room, he turned to face me. "To the museum?" He raised an eyebrow. "Do you?"
"Not particularly."
"Good."
"Are you positive?" I gave a weak little laugh. "I mean, you could hang out with Bianca."
His voice was hard. "Or Rango."
"Don't you mean 'Dingo'?" I muttered.
Jake leaned against the far wall and gave me a penetrating look. "What the hell did you see in that guy?"
"Rango?"
"Rango. Dongo. Whatever," Jake said. "He's a dick. Why would you go out with him?"
"You're one to talk," I said. "Tonight, you were way more dicky than he was."
"Is that so?"
"To Rango," I clarified. "Not to me." I shook my head. "I still can't believe he didn't take a swing at you."
"He would have," Jake said, "if someone hadn't dragged me off."
I did a mental eye-roll. Sure, like Jake could be dragged anywhere he didn't want to go. And yet, he did have a point. He had let me drag him away. Why was that?
