Full Share (Shore House Book 1) (20 page)

“Have you heard from Heather?” he asked.

“I haven’t. Do people hear from people in rehab facilities?”

Jack took a sip of his beer. “Don’t know. Heather’s the first person I’ve ever known to go to one. In my family, we just keep drinking.” His laugh was dark.

“Do you think she’s an alcoholic?”

“I think she’s rich,” he said with such disdain that I put down my fork and stared at him. “What?”

“You seem like you hate her.”

“I hate missed opportunities. You’re new to this group. They’re the kings and queens of those with enough money to find themselves, and they’re bored to tears by it.”

I didn’t say a word. There was little to argue against his point. Mila was utilizing her Penn degree teaching yoga, Rob was an aspiring singer, Heather was on summer break from getting her Masters of Fine Arts to go to rehab, and Stone was studying for the CPA exam he didn’t want to take.

“Tank’s and my parents aren’t sending us to rehab. They might put a foot up our asses, but there’s no money for rehab.”

I was stuck somewhere between the luxuries of money he described and respect for him. “You two are my favorites,” I said to put him at ease.

“Funny. I thought Rob was your favorite.” His stare bore down on me until I blushed.

I wanted to hide, but my years of practice kicked in. “Shows what you know.”

We left the Rudder and rode south on Route 1. The heat hadn’t dissipated since the afternoon, and the traffic was stacked on the only road that went across the Indian River Inlet. I held onto Jack and let his words roam around my head. He was always tolerant, always the one who calmed everyone else down, but his impatience with our roommates and our socioeconomic system as a whole had been pretty clear at dinner.

Just before Bethany, the traffic stopped. One road in. One road out. Jack made a right and took us off the highway and through farms unimaginably close to the masses of people at the beach only a few miles away. We veered west and tipped south, finally able to enjoy the breeze and the scenery. I tightened my arms around Jack and fell in love with the motorcycle as a mode of transportation.

We picked up Hudson Road and took it all the way to the Maryland state line where we turned east and rode through the Isle of Wight and over the Route 90 Bridge before rejoining the stopped vehicles in Ocean City, Maryland. The traffic was endless, but Jack weaved through it politely, and we kept moving until he parked near the Jolly Roger Amusement Park.

“Now you want to try to kill me on a roller coaster?”

“You’re like a giant slice of birthday cake all the time, aren’t you?”

“I’ll try to be nice.” We walked under the arch and into the outdoor carnival. The people from the lines of traffic were still trying to park and unpack for the weekend, so the rides were virtually empty. The sun dipped down in the sky. It wouldn’t be long until the place was overrun with children. The ticket booth sat fifteen feet to our right. “I’ll buy the tickets. What do you want to ride?”

Jack raised his eyebrows at me. “What do you want to ride?”

I took a deep breath. “The Ferris wheel.”

“Is that your favorite?” Probing, always.

“Okay,” I said and turned toward the ticket attendant. “Can I get twenty dollars’ worth?” I exchanged the ticket book for my credit card and turned to Jack, who was watching the whole transaction with a forlorn look.

“You’re charging ride tickets?”

“I have no money.” I was almost stuttering. “Well, I have money, but no cash on me. I didn’t know we were going out as soon as I got down here. I need to hit the ATM.”

“And you’re charging them on a gold card?”

“Okay, now you’re just judging.” I slid the card back in my wallet, ashamed of its existence. May he never discover my mother paid the balance every month. “How do you tolerate me? At least more than the others?”

“Oh, at times you’re intolerable.” His expression was relaxed. He was almost back to making fun of me. “You’re clearly as damaged as the rest of them, but you’re working. Except for the gold card, you live like a poor girl.”

“Thanks. I think.”

“I’m not sure that was a compliment.”

“It didn’t feel like one.”

We waited in line. Actually we were second in line, but since the Ferris wheel was running, we waited. Jack stood behind me with his arms resting on my shoulders, and I let him. He pulled me against the front of his body at the exact moment the people in front of us boarded their car. I used their movement to take a step forward myself. One step was the equivalent of an ocean between us. I didn’t turn around to see him. I questioned whether he was still okay with being just friends.

We boarded car number eleven. Jack sat across from me and as soon as we cleared the boarding platform, he began rocking our car back and forth. I didn’t react.

“Ah, man. This reminds me of my childhood.” He sat back and rested his arms on the back of the bench on each side of him.

Still no reaction.

“I miss it. What about you, Nora Hargrove?”

“Can’t you ever just be near someone? Do you have to be
with
them?”

Jack leaned over toward me and very seriously asked, “Do you hear yourself?”

I lowered my eyes and hid from him, and with a finger to my chin he forced me to face him.

“Let’s try this again.” He was so incredibly kind. His eyes were a deep blue against the falling sun in the sky. I let myself unknot there. “What do you miss about your childhood?” He waited. I was sure he was preparing himself for my sarcasm.

“I miss having someone to respect.” I didn’t look away. I’d give him exactly what he asked for, and he’d probably regret it. “So, don’t fuck this up. Okay?”

He ran his fingertips down the side of my face as my words sank between us.

After a trip down the giant slide and once around the two-story merry-go-round, I rode home on the back of Jack’s motorcycle, hugging him the entire time. I faked a necessary adjustment to excuse my hands moving across the muscles in his stomach. He was more than just physically strong. He was intelligent and playful, and I lost track of myself with him. I didn’t let my guard down. He dismantled it by never being predictable or disappointing.

I was supposed to be out witnessing the drunken fiascos I roomed with. Jack was supposed to be across the bar, or on the couch, not nestled between my legs as we careened up Route 1 into Delaware. I hid from the wind between his shoulder blades and closed my eyes. I let my mind wander to every memory of him without his shirt on. I wallowed in the thought of his arms wrapped around me while we slept in the bed he’d made for us. I squeezed him tighter without wanting to. I couldn’t not.

When we stopped at the first traffic light in Dewey, Jack sat up and reached back to rub my thigh. His hand roughly brushed across it and then he squeezed it, and I stopped breathing. I studied his hand, knowing I’d conveyed far too much on our ride home. I needed some distance from Jack. With only four blocks to go, I relaxed at the possibility of Stone and Mila joining us. It was hard to feel anything but anger if Stone was around, and Mila would chat and put us all at ease.

Jack pulled into the driveway. I exhaled at the sight of Mila’s and Stone’s cars, but the house was silent when we walked in. I checked the hallway and listened up the stairs. We were alone. Jack was in the kitchen opening two beers and setting them on the counter. The urge to run burst inside me.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

I turned back, my cheeks burning from embarrassment. I’d never been so transparent. Not even to my mother. It was an uneasiness that could only be quelled by flight.

“Come here.” Jack obviously was thinking the opposite. He kept me right next to him to torture me as much as possible. There was nothing I could do. To leave would be absurd, even more so than staying, I thought.

It was stupid. I could have a beer with Jack. This was a beer with a guy I’d known a few weeks who’d never been anything but kind to me. No. Big. Deal.

“Where do you think they are?” I picked up the bottle and took a sip. The cold liquid slid down my dry throat. I took another gulp to soothe me.

Jack watched me as I leaned on the counter behind me. He was next to me. I could feel the heat from his tanned skin. It drew me to him. I pressed the beer against my arm and focused on the chill it sent through my body.

“I don’t know,” he said, but I didn’t know what he was talking about. Jack stood in front of me. He leaned down and rested both hands behind me on the counter, trapping me between his arms. He was close. The heat coming off him was unbearable. My train of thought was lost, and I didn’t care if it ever came back. I wanted him to press himself against me—to let me feel the heat—but I knew I was getting too close to the fire. “Do you not want to be alone with me?”

I opened my mouth to say something. I had no idea what. When my lips parted, Jack’s were upon them. I stood perfectly still until he pulled back and faced me. He was waiting for me, but I didn’t know what to do. Jack inhaled and gently placed his lips on mine again, silencing my mind to anything but the sensation of his tongue, the pressure of his lips, and the tightening of every fiber inside me.

With our mouths still connected, I placed my beer on the counter and pulled him to me with both hands. I wrapped my arms around his neck, wanting him closer to me than myself. Jack lifted me onto the counter. I wrapped my legs around him, kissing him as if my life depended on it. I wasn’t sure it didn’t.

I was voracious in a way I’d never experienced before, and Jack responded with the strength I craved from him every minute I was in his presence. He pressed himself against me, his lips bore down on me until mine hurt from the force. I didn’t relent for a second. I took everything from him.

A little voice inside my head broke free and said, “No.”

“What?” Jack asked, and I winced, having realized I’d said it out loud.

The walls closed in around me. I dropped my arms from his neck to his stomach. I touched him one last time, knowing I was about to ruin everything. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“This is a bad idea.” The words fell from my lips. I ran a finger across the bottom one to feel the pain of his kiss once again.

Jack leaned in, letting his lips drag across my neck. His hot breath followed to my ear. I tilted my head, trying to capture the longing it shot through my body. He whispered, “Why’s that?”

I was on fire. My mind raced with need for him. I closed my eyes, hiding from both of us. Jack’s fingertips ran across my collar bone, and I shivered beneath them, telling him every truth I couldn’t face.

I could have sex with him. If I’d had sex
ever
before in this
awful
life, I’d be naked right now, but this was my first time, and it couldn’t be this.

Stupid. Fucking. Virginity.

It couldn’t be with a guy who slept with Mila because she was lonely and had sex with a half share and didn’t always come home because he was lying under a crier with a tiger tattoo. It couldn’t be for just one night. Not with Jack. He already meant more to me than that.

“Talk to me, Nora. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

I kept my eyes closed. His lips touched my cheek, but he had no idea what we were up against. Twenty-three years of carrying it around with me, holding it so tight no one could pry it loose, had rendered me silent.

“Tell me.”

With a hand on each of his shoulders, and the words that I knew would end this, I pushed him away. “I’m thinking he’s right here.”
The one.
“ . . . and it’s a mistake.” I slid off the counter and walked to the other side of the kitchen. I still felt like running from the house, but this was Jack. It wasn’t the first time a guy found out he wasn’t having sex with me. It was just the first time I thought it would kill me.

“It’s not a mistake,” he said, and his stare bore into me, willing me to believe him, and I wanted to more than anything. He could be the one. I could do this, but I couldn’t. Jack would never be mine, and
this
couldn’t be my first time, and I didn’t owe him the reason why.

I wished Tank were around to talk to about it. He’d know what to do.

“Talk to me,” he pleaded.

I was silent. My lack of words was my only comfort. He had to stop looking at me.
Walk away, Jack.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He read my mind. I stared at the ceiling, wanting to hide more than ever before in my life. “I’m not leaving this room until you tell me what’s going on.” Jack stood in front of me. I let my gaze fall to his chest. I could almost touch it. I could lie down with him, rest my head against his chest, and forget anything bad ever happened in the world. In my world. “Nora.” His chest expanded with frustrated breaths, and my eyes fixed on his muscular arms.

“You’re strapping.”

He lowered his chin and tried to decipher the words of idiocy flowing from my mouth. “Strapping?”

“I read it in a Nora Hargrove novel.”

“Your words. Use your words, Nora,” he snapped.

I hated him. I inhaled deeply, and he didn’t flinch. Jack was as solid as they came. “You’re beautiful.” Relief flowed through me at the sound of the truth. “Absolutely incredible.” Jack took a step toward me as I raised both hands in objection. “But it’s July twenty-fifth. We have over a month left here together. This will only end badly.”

“Who says it’s going to end?”

“I’m . . .” I shook my head, searching for the words to properly replace the truth I wouldn’t share with him, “not good at casual hookups. Especially when I share a bedroom with the guy.” I looked Jack in the eye. “I’m not Mila, or whoever else. I’m not the type to be okay when you bring someone else home.”

“What if there won’t be anyone else?” He took two steps closer to me, and I didn’t stop him. I was lost in the hope of his words. He towered over me in all his glory, and every girl’s reaction to his presence ran through my mind.

“You’re not the type for that,” I said and insulted one of the best guys I’d ever known.

“Don’t pretend to know me when you barely know yourself.” It was a slap in the face. Jack had joked about my issues before, but now he was using them against me. “This is about him, isn’t it?”