Like This And Like That (19 page)

Read Like This And Like That Online

Authors: Nia Stephens

BOOK: Like This And Like That
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Surprised, Gemma responded, “What are you talking about?”
“You asked your dad if he always had to harass your dates whenever they come to pick you up. Exactly how many dates has your dad harassed?”
At first Gemma laughed, thinking he was joking. When she realized he wasn't she said, “Come on, Christopher. I was just making a comment about how many times my dad has embarrassed me. It really had nothing to do with guys.”
“Seriously,” he pushed. “How many guys have you been with, because for some reason you keep cutting me off.”
Now it was Gemma's turn to stare. “Christopher, that's really none of your business.” It may have been easier to just admit that she was a virgin, but Gemma didn't feel they were at the point in their relationship to discuss their sexual histories—or lack thereof.
With a sulking expression, Christopher stared out of the window, relenting only when she softly kissed his cheek and reassured him that what she had told her dad really was a joke. As he put the car into drive, Gemma hoped the rest of the evening wasn't going to be this intense.
 
When they arrived at Christopher's house, Gemma was thoroughly impressed. The beachfront house was spectacular with its modern architecture, standing mere feet away from the shoreline. In fact, you could hear the crashing waves from the front door. The inside of the house was even more impressive. Every single wall boasted a piece of modern art that Gemma figured to be an original.
The party was in full swing and since many high school kids from neighboring schools were there—even a few J. Marshall students—she recognized several faces.
After they said hi to Lita, Ramon, Jeff, Sascha, Matt, and Tina, Christopher pulled Gemma out onto the dance floor, which would go back to its former status as the living room floor before his parents came home in a few days.
Gemma and Christopher were out on the dance floor having a great time until someone bumped into her and knocked an ice-cold drink down the back of her shirt. Gemma shrieked as she turned to cuss out the clumsy fool. Her heart almost stopped when she saw Nick Simmons standing in front of her. She was not surprised to see that he was drunk.
“My girl!” Nick yelled drunkenly. “What's up?” Nick grabbed Gemma, giving her a bone-crushing hug. Yup, that was the familiar smell of beer mixed with cologne she remembered none too fondly.
Gemma pushed herself from his grasp. “Get off me!” she said, disgusted. She walked off the dance floor, with Christopher following.
“You know that guy?” he asked.
“
You
know that guy?” she asked back.
“Not really, but he comes to every party I throw. So how do you know him?”
“His name is Nick Simmons and we go to the same school,” Gemma said. The wet spot on the back of her shirt was now sticking to her and making her cold.
“Is that the only way you know him or did you hook up with him, too?” Christopher asked suspiciously.
Gemma glared at him, refusing to dignify the question with a response. “Do you have something I can change into?” she asked, irritated.
Christopher nodded and led her up the steps and into his colossal bedroom.
His family must have a maid
, she thought.
No guy keeps his room this clean
.
He went into his closet and pulled out a tiny handkerchief. “You can make a shirt out of this,” he offered.
“Not funny.” What was with his attitude? He didn't even have the excuse of being drunk—he was drinking soda.
He disappeared back into his closet but this time came out with a white T-shirt with the word
skater
printed across the chest in black. “This one is too small for me but it should fit you okay.” He handed it to Gemma.
“Thanks,” she said. “Where should I change?”
He grinned. “Right here.”
“I don't think so.”
What a jerk he's being!
Gemma glanced around the room, and since she had no idea where the bathroom was she went into his closet and shut the door behind her. A minute later she emerged wearing his T-shirt. “Did you shrink this or something? It's even tight on me.”
Christopher smiled as he approached her. “It looks good, though.” He placed his arms around her waist and pulled her close, giving her a long kiss. “You always look good,” he murmured.
Gemma let his soft kisses melt away her annoyance. After all, she'd probably feel jealous if some girl hurled herself at Christopher, hugging him and calling him “my boy.” She relaxed in his embrace.
As they continued kissing, she felt herself being directed toward his bed. He gently laid her down without ever breaking away from her. His hands softly caressed her back. At first it felt good but then his soft caress turned into a more hostile grope. She wriggled herself free but then his hands began groping all over.
“Would you slow down a minute?” Frustrated, Gemma pushed herself out from under his body. “You're beginning to be as bad as Nick,” she blurted. As soon as the words left her mouth she regretted saying them. That didn't make it less true, though.
Christopher rolled over and lay on his back. “I knew something happened between you two. He can hit it but I can't? Is that it? Is it because he's black and I'm not?”
Gemma stared down at him, not believing what she was hearing. “I'd like to go home,” she finally said.
He sat up on the bed. “I can take you to the bus stop. I'm low on gas.”
Gemma stood up, furious. “Don't bother. I'll find my own ride home.” She crossed the room to the door.
“Hold up,” Christopher called, still lying on the bed.
Gemma stopped. Slowly, she turned around. “What?”
“I'm sorry. I guess I'm just frustrated.” His remorseful expression made Gemma's anger subside a bit but she still didn't move. She stood at the bedroom door, waiting to hear what he had to say next.
“I really like you, Gemma,” he said, getting up from the bed and coming toward her. “I don't want to mess this up.”
Standing close, he placed his hands onto the door behind her, on either side of her face. Gemma felt her breathing become more rapid as he whispered, “I just really like you.” She felt the warmth of his breath as he leaned in and kissed her neck. Then his kisses reached her cheek and eventually settled on her lips. The kisses felt so delicious, she thought her legs were going to buckle. Slowly, he leaned away from the door and began running his hands up and down the front of her body. Eventually he ran his fingertips under her shirt and rested them on her bra.
She wanted to stop, she really did, but his kisses were so powerful it almost felt like she was in some sort of trance and couldn't move. Her entire body felt delicious.
His hands slid out from under her shirt as they stood facing one another. He lifted his shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor. He pressed up against Gemma again, and resumed his kisses. But when she felt his fingers fumble with the button on her jeans she pushed him away.
“What is with you?” he demanded, his face hard with anger. “You're acting like a virgin or something.”
“I
am
a virgin,” she blurted.
“What?” He took a step back and cocked his head. “You're kidding me, right?”
“No, I'm not.”
He ran his hands through his hair and sighed. “You expect me to believe
you
are a virgin? Look,” he snapped, “if you don't want to do it with me then fine. You don't have to make up lies.”
This was not the reaction she had expected. “I'm not!”
He turned and plopped back down onto the bed and threw his hands up in the air. “Forget it. I give up. I've dated girls like you before. I'm not big on teases.”
Gemma stared at him in disbelief. What a jerk! She quickly rearranged her clothes, grabbed her wet shirt, opened the door and left, slamming it behind her for added effect.
A bit dramatic
, she thought as she headed for the front door. But she was sure he got her point. She'd mail him back his T-shirt.
 
The End
So you think Gemma should ditch Christopher? Read on to find out what happens.
Chapter 7
Fun and Games
“A
re you telling me that you're not going to go out with him again?” Maria asked. “Why? He's cool, he's hot and most importantly he really likes you.”
“I thought being hot was the most important thing,” Gemma said. “I know your scoring system.”
“Okay, those are the
two
most important things.”
“If you say so.”
Maria narrowed her eyes. “Is this because he's white?”
“Not really,” Gemma said.
“Then give me a good reason why you won't go out with him again.”
Gemma had done a lot of thinking about this, especially last night while lying awake in bed. “Okay. First there's the whole dad thing.”
Maria looked at her curiously. “Didn't you say your mom told you it was cool?”
“
She
was cool with it,” Gemma corrected. “Who knows what my dad would've thought.”
“That's BS,” Maria said. “You just got freaked out because Ethan—who I still think you like by the way—and his boys were staring at you and Christopher yesterday at the pizza place.”
“That's not the reason,” Gemma said. “What about the whole hands-on thing? I just don't feel like having to fight off another guy and then wondering if he's going to call me the next day because I didn't give him any.”
“That's easily rectifiable,” Maria said, grinning.
“And no, I'm not giving it up just because someone nags me.”
“Let's face it. You're not dating surfer dude because of what everyone else thinks.” Maria said.
Gemma pointed at Maria. “And there's my last—and most important reason. If I have to hear you call him surfer dude one more time, I'm going to scream.”
“All excuses. Give me another one.”
Gemma sighed. “Tell me again why we're friends.”
“Because you love me,” Maria said, planting a big juicy one on Gemma's cheek. “So how are you going to tell Christopher he's been fired?”
“Like this,” Gemma said, picking up the phone with faux confidence. She had thought about this long and hard. But now she hesitated, hoping she wasn't making a mistake.
As she dialed, she felt a knot in her stomach. Her throat went completely dry.
“Christopher?” she asked when he answered. Her voice was quivering.
“Hey, Gemma. You ready for the party tonight?”
“Uh—that's why I called.” Gemma turned to Maria for moral support but Maria just shrugged. Fine. She was on her own here. “I think it best if we could just remain friends.” There! The deed was done.
His end of the line was quiet for a second. Finally he asked, “What do you mean?”
Huh? He was going to make her elaborate? She assumed “be friends” was universal. Everyone understood that the term was a brush-off. Well, everyone except Christopher.
“I like you and all but I just don't think we'd work out.”
“Are you kidding me?” he demanded. His tone had become harsh. Angry. “You mean after I waited so patiently for you to give it up, you're
dumping me
?”
Gemma's jaw dropped. She didn't know what to say. Did Christopher actually think that not getting sex from someone he had just met was “waiting patiently”?
“Man,” he gave a sharp laugh. “I even suffered through that boring basketball game and still you didn't let me go there.”
“Wh-what?” Gemma could hardly believe what she was hearing. Had she dialed the wrong number and was now talking to Satan?
“It was that guy at the pizza place last night, wasn't it?” he continued. Gemma was suddenly very relieved she hadn't had this conversation in person.
“Who?”
“The dude who kept staring at you. I'm sure you gave it up to him and probably a few of his buddies, but I can't get any. So that's how it is?”
“I gotta go,” she said and hung up. There wasn't anything that Christopher had to say that she needed to hear. If she'd had any doubts before, they were definitely erased now.
 
The conversation with Christopher had left such a sour taste in her mouth that she needed to get out. Maria already had plans with Manny, so Gemma decided to get in some extra practice. Although she scored her all-time high at last night's game, there was always room for improvement.
On her way out the door her dad asked what had happened to the party. Gemma just shrugged. “Not interested anymore.” She knew he'd be furious if he knew the whole story. While she never wanted to see Christopher again, she didn't want him to face her father's wrath. The guy deserved to live to see twenty-one, after all.
Once at the gym, Gemma headed to her favorite court, but when she got there some guy was already shooting baskets. He made every shot. The guy's concentration was on point. She hated to disturb him but it was
her
court. Okay, it's not like she owned it or anything, but it was her favorite. The others were too small and didn't have the same acoustics when the ball bounced against the hard wooden floor.
Gemma marched down to the center of the floor, preparing to politely ask the intruder to move his ass to another court. When she reached the center, the intruder turned and grinned. It was Ethan Jackson.
“Well, well, well, look at what the cat dragged in,” he said and shot a basket.
Swoosh.
“Bet you can't do that,” he teased. He then made another shot. “Or that.” He jogged down the court and made an easy lay-up.
“I thought you were supposed to have skills,” Gemma teased back. “I could have made that shot in my sleep.”
“After last night I know you could have. At least your man in the stands thought so.” He set up for his next shot.
“He's not my man,” Gemma said, bristling at the memory of how awful Christopher had turned out to be. “Not now, not ever.”
“Stop flappin' your gums and make the shot.” He threw the ball at her. She set up for the shot but before releasing the ball, she said, “Let's make this interesting. If I win, you beat it off my court.”
“And if I win,” he said, “I want you to go out with me whenever I want.”
“You're on.” She narrowed her eyes and put her game face on. From the first point, Gemma realized Ethan meant business. Little did he know she was just as serious. Halfway through the game, the score was tied. Gemma took off her sweats as Ethan pulled his shirt over his head and threw it over toward the bleachers.
He was trying to distract her and unfortunately was succeeding, with his glistening, smooth and muscled chest. Since realizing she had only her sports bra on, she decided to play the same card. If Brandi Chastain could do it in front of a million soccer fans, she could do it to gain a point or two.
If anyone walked in
, she thought,
this could be misconstrued as something else—two stripped down sweaty people in a gym!
When it came down to the final point, the score was dead even. “Whoever makes this shot wins,” Ethan called out. It was his ball. As he charged to the right and then to the left, Gemma was able to keep pace. Finally, he jumped and released the ball. It went in. “That's it! I win!” he yelled, doing his victory dance.
“But if you noticed, I kept up with you the entire time.” Gemma declared proudly.
Ethan stopped his victory dance and walked up to her. Now face-to-face, he said, “Do you think that maybe I
let
you keep up with me?”
By that point Gemma was hardly shy around him. A sweaty game of basketball in shorts and a sports bra could do that. She leaned in and closed the gap between them a little more. “Yeah, but did
you
ever think I
let
you get that last point?”
She backed away and grabbed her shirt from the sideline. She could feel his eyes on her as she put her T-shirt back on. She knew he was trying to figure her out. She hated to admit it but she took great pleasure in watching him attempting to decide whether she had thrown the game.
As if to get the last word, Ethan finally said, “How about I get that date right now?”
Gemma grinned to herself. It was exactly what she wanted, too.

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