You & Me (You & Me Series Book 1) Page 2
“Hi,” he says quietly.
“Hi,” I whisper back.
“So, I hear you’re from Portland,” he says with a straight face.
Knowing we had just spent a good thirty minutes going on about Portland and not understanding why anybody would ever want to live anywhere else, his comment makes me throw my head back and laugh out loud. There was just something so nonchalant about it. It was like he had just been sitting there waiting for us to stop talking so he could make his little comment.
Ah, it feels so good to laugh. It feel like I haven’t laughed in years, but in reality it’s probably only been about a week and a half. My laughter leaves him sitting on his bar stool looking at me with that havoc wreaking smile on his face.
I finally collect myself. “Sorry, we sort of went on and on didn’t we? Yes, Emily, Emily from Portland and you?”
“Jonathan Kelly of Savannah, Georgia at your service, Ma’am.” He says as he perks up at the prospect of actually having a conversation with me.
“I thought I detected a hint of an accent. It’s not very strong though.”
“I’ve been out west for three years now and I’ve spent a lot of time around people from all over the country, especially the West coast. To me everybody else talks funny and I never had an accent to lose,” he says with a wink, “I feel like I am picking up that funky west coast accent y’all have.”
“Well, I think some of your nonexistent accent is still there since we don’t say y’all too often out here on the West coast. Besides, I wouldn’t rush right out and lose it if I were you. I’m sure it doesn’t hurt in the dating department.”
I feel the heat rising from my neck and up to my face as I realize what I’ve just said. I wish I could take it right back. Maybe there’s too much noise in here and he didn’t hear me? If only I could be so lucky. Going by the shit-eating grin I see on his face right now, luck is not on my side.
With a raised eyebrow he asks, “So, you like an accent do you?”
“No, I didn’t say that I liked it, I said that I’m sure it helps you in the dating department. Since I don’t date, I wasn’t referring to myself.”
“Oh, so you don’t date, interesting . . .” He assesses me out of the corner of his eye and takes a drink of his Corona. “So, why don’t you date?”
“Just not my thing,” I say with a shrug of my shoulders, wanting to talk about anything other than my dating status or lack thereof. As he continues his assessment of me, I’m just waiting for the next probing question, but he surprises me by changing the subject.
“Well, it’s a good thing I am just hoping to spend some time with you and not start a relationship. I mean, that would just be awkward,” he says with a shiver.
I can’t help but roll my eyes at him and take a sip of my now watered down ice tea.
“So, what are you studying?”
“Teaching.”
“And what would you like to teach, Emily from Portland?”
“Well, Jonathan from Savannah . . .” I say with my best southern drawl, “I am hoping to go into the Special Education field. It’s something that I’ve wanted to do as long as I can remember.” I say as I lift my right shoulder, tilt my head toward it, and bring my hand to my chest in my horrible attempt to act like a Southern Belle.
“Emily, sweetheart, was that your attempt at a southern accent? And well, I am not sure exactly what the hell that was?” Waving his finger up and down in front of me, he says seriously, all laughter gone from his voice.
I have no idea what to say. I can’t believe that I’ve offended him. I feel so bad and once again feel the red creeping up from my chest, to my neck and now my face.
Jonathan throws his head back and out comes the laughter that I am afraid I could easily become addicted to. As I sit there, embarrassed yet enthralled by this man, he reaches out and puts his hand on top of mine. He gives it a couple of friendly taps and then just leaves it there. There’s that heat again and it’s not from the embarrassment I was feeling just moments ago. What is happening to me? How is this happening?
“Emily, I was just giving you a hard time. Your Southern Belle routine was adorable and I wasn’t offended at all. In fact, I’m curious to see what else you got in there. Do you do impressions too?”
His hand is still on mine and he’s rubbing his thumb around and around the top of my hand. And I just stare at him without a witty comeback.
As she has done since the 4th grade, Cami saves the day by announcing, “Let’s go to the beach!”
Before I know it Jonathan has removed his hand from mine and we all gather our things and head out the door together. Walking outside, I feel a hand on the small of my back and from the heat that immediately starts pulsing through my body, I know without looking who it belongs to. This is so not a good idea. Shit! Shit! Shit!
The California sun is blinding after the many hours we’ve just spent in Ole’s, but it feels so nice on my air-conditioned skin. On our way to the beach the guys stop off at a Jeep to grab their stuff and say that they’ll catch up.
Using this time to her advantage Cami puts her arm through mine and gives me a little hip check when she asks, “So, how’s it going, Em? Jonathan sure seems like a nice guy.”
“Cam, I can’t do this. I don’t want to meet somebody right now. My life is about to implode and the last thing I need is to meet somebody. Not just somebody, but somebody that hot and with those lips. Not to mention the dimples. He has trouble written all over him. Besides, he’s leaving for 9 months so what’s the use anyway?” I blurt out with a huff.
“Honey, your life is not going to implode. I’m here and you have everybody else in your life who loves you and will have your back too. Things suck right now, your future is up in the air and you have a lot of big decisions to make but your life is not going to implode. I won’t let you let that happen. I got you,” she says giving my arm a squeeze.
“I love you for that Cam and thank you for always being there for me, it means more than you know, but really, how can I even think about meeting a guy right now? Besides, I don’t want or need a man. They’re all assholes in the end and only out for one thing, so why waste my time?”
She stops us, turns to face me, slides her sunglasses down her nose so that I can see her eyes, then grabs me by the shoulders and says, “We’re on vacation! You aren’t running off to Vegas and getting married! Alex would kill me if I let you get married without her there,” She says with a wink, referring to our other best friend back home in Portland. “You’re just gonna have some fun with your girls and some new guys we met in a bar. Besides, I doubt he’s looking for a relationship. Like you said, they’re leaving in a week to go fight in a war for the next 9 months and probably need a week of fun in the sun even more than you do. You might even say that it’s our duty, as citizens of this great country of ours, to entertain our troops before they head off to protect us. I mean, it seems like the right thing to do, don’t ya think?”
When I look at her like she is the crazy person that she is, she smacks my ass and says, “Relax and have some fun! That’s what this week is all about and you can worry about everything else next week.”
By the time we make it down to the beach, the guys have caught up with us and we stake our claim in the sand and spread out like we own the place. While the guys throw a football around the four of us apply our sunblock and lay down on our towels and attempt to relax. Before I get too comfortable I ask Cami if she needs help with her sunblock. It is essential that we cover our sweet little ginger completely or her beautiful fair skin will turn lobster red in minutes.
“Nope, I’m good. It’s not that warm out here anyway.” She looks over at her shoulder and rolls her eyes at Sam and Steph laying out in their swimsuits while Cami and I are each in shorts and a tank.
As I lay on my towel with my big sunglasses on, I can only hope that they are big enough and dark enough to hide the fact that I just can’t help sneaking peeks at the guys while they t
hrow the ball around. All three of them are so damn hot and I have no doubt that they get lots of attention wherever they go. They are all in simple board shorts and t-shirts, but they sure do fill them out nicely.
Matt, is tall but not too tall, maybe 5’10, with blond hair, blue eyes and is thin but built, thanks to the United States Marine Corps. He has that boy next door thing about him but I have no doubt he could kick some ass if needed. He’s certainly the quiet one of the group but still seems to be having fun as far as I can tell.
Devon, is beautiful, there is just no getting around it. If I had to guess, I would say he’s around six feet tall and so fit that you could bounce a quarter off those abs, arms, ass, you name the body part and I’m sure that quarter would bounce. Match that body with his mocha colored skin, barley there hair (almost like a 5 o’clock shadow but on his head), big expressive brown eyes, and a smile that simply oozes charm and you would instantly want to label him a player. The thing is, he seems so down to earth that I don’t think he is. He is however, one of those people you instantly get a good vibe from and feel like you’ve known forever. Must be the Portlander in him.
Then there is Jonathan . . . what can I say? He. Is. Perfect. I have never had a type, but if I do in the future I think I know what it will be; Jonathan. It turns out that my type is a few inches over six feet tall, lean and strong without an ounce of fat on him, has an ass that is a thing of beauty, tanned skin, short dark hair, eyes that melt into your soul and lips that are attached to the most beautiful smile I have ever seen. Now that I’ve had a chance to spend more time staring at him, his dimples really aren’t that much of a stand out. There is so much more to that face of his. Apparently, my type is tall, dark and handsome. Who knew?
Taking a break from objectifying the guys I actually relax enough to close my eyes and just listen to the sound of the waves and the goings on around me. Not long into what is as close to a meditative state as is possible for me, I feel the presence of somebody sitting next to me. I turn my head and lift my sunglasses up to my forehead but I know who’ll be sitting there before I even open my eyes. I can feel him.
“Did I wake you up or were you still checking us out from under your shades?”
“I don’t know what in the world you’re talking about, Georgia,” I say under a fresh new layer of blush. “I was just laying here relaxing. At least I was until you came along,” I say as I stick my tongue out at him.
“Well, I don’t want to interrupt your moment of Zen. I can get out of your hair if that’s what you want?”
“Touch football ladies? Guys against girls again only this time it will be four to three. What do you say? Are you all up for the challenge this time?” Devon says as he catches the ball sent his way from Matt leaving Jonathan’s question as to whether or not I want him out of my hair unanswered.
Cami is the first to jump up, followed by Sam and Steph, who will no doubt play in just their bikinis. I love those girls, but it’s only 73 degrees out here. Put some clothes on! I guess if I was supermodel tall, tan, blonde and pretty much a walking wet dream I might play touch football in a bikini too. Maybe in another lifetime, but certainly not this one. Not wanting to be the only girl not to join in I start to get up. Jonathan offers me his hand but I don’t take it.
“I’m good thanks,” I say.
“Oh, I see. The independent type. I like it,” he smiles and once again I just roll my eyes at him.
After the rules and punishment for the losers are agreed to the coin toss has gone to the men who opt to start with the ball. The game begins when Devon hikes the ball to Matt who passes it to Jonathan who catches the ball one-handed, with no effort at all and breezes past me as I do my best to catch him on his way by. After his easy-breezy touchdown he turns to the rest of us, takes a small bow and then toss’s the ball to me.
“Let’s see whatcha got, Emily from Portland”
Taking this seriously, we strategize in our huddle, then gather on our make-believe line of scrimmage. I squat and put one hand down in the sand just like the real guys do and Cami hikes the ball to Steph who then hands the ball off to Sam. Sam starts running and just as she does and all attention is on her, I run by on her left side and she tosses me the ball. I can hear Jonathan hot on my heels as I run as fast I can to my end zone. About 10 feet away he catches me and I feel him tag my shoulder.
“Shit!” I yell. “I was so close.”
“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” Jonathan says as though he’s offended.
“Where do you think I learned my trucker speak? Stick around and you’ll hear much worse my friend.” I quip back.
Not waiting for a reply and realizing too late that I just suggested he stick around, I head back to the girls and we huddle up again to discuss our plan of attack. These guys do not know who they’re messing with. We’re not some pansy ass girls who’ll back down to the big bad Marines. We love a challenge! To be honest, I don’t mind Jonathan trying so hard to touch me either. Funny, I never realized how much fun touch football could be.
As we line back up for our next play, I can see Jonathan move himself so he’s on my side of our little formation and I know he’ll be coming after me again. As soon as Cami hikes the ball to Steph she fakes a throw to Sam, but I jump back and she hands me the ball and I quickly jet over to the right side and away from Jonathan. Just as I look to my left I see he’s on his way to try and stop me but I take a flying leap and land in our make-believe end zone and score the touchdown. I jump right back up, covered in sand and do my victory dance as Jonathan stares at me in disbelief.
That’s right! That just happened, Georgia!
We play a little while longer and then all head back over to our towels and collapse. Luckily for us, there were bottles of water in those backpacks that the guys stopped to pick up on the way to the sand and surf. Thanks to those always prepared Marines, we can all hydrate. In the end, the score was Team USMC 7 vs Team SDSU 4. Even though Sam felt we should have used an accidental ‘wardrobe malfunction’ to distract our opponents and rack up some points, we agreed to play fair and actually put up a pretty good fight.
After some time sitting around, catching our breath, talking some smack about one another’s football skills and making easy conversation, Matt stands up and says, “It’s time to pay up ladies. I’m starving and you owe us pizza and beer. Pizza Port here we come!” He declares pointing in the direction of the restaurant.
And with that, we’re all up and headed back into the streets of San Clemente and off to Pizza Port to pay our debt.
Pizza Port is as good as the guys said it would be and after three slices and too many breadsticks to count, I’m stuffed. The group decides we’re all gonna head back to our rooms to relax for a while, get cleaned up and then we’ll meet again in a few hours. As much as I thought I didn’t want to hang out with these guys, I realize how wrong I was. I’m actually having a great time. Most importantly, the smile on my face is a real one and not the fake one I thought I would have to remember to keep on my face all week. Even though it doesn’t eliminate the real world that is waiting for me, this week may end up being just what I needed after all.
I Don’t Want This Night to End
Jonathan
I tell myself to act chill but as soon as we walk into Duke’s my eyes are instantly searching the crowd for her. There is something about Emily from Portland that pulls me to her. Yes, she is hot as hell, I won’t deny that, but there is something else about her and I am dying to figure out what it is. There is some sort of connection at play here. I know I am leaving next week and this is not the time to connect with anybody, but I don’t think I can ignore this.
Only ten feet through the door and I know she’s here, I can feel it. And it’s not the lack of air conditioning in the bar, it’s her. Looking straight ahead I spot her at the bar. Her honey colored hair is up in another ponytail and she looks amazing. She is the most beautiful girl in this place and it looks like it’s without any effort what
soever. She’s a natural beauty who doesn’t need make-up and whatever shit girls do to themselves to look beautiful like she does.
I can only see a side view of her so at the moment I am deprived of those big blue eyes of hers. You can’t help but get lost in them when she so much as glances at you. She has on a long, red summer dress, with those skinny little spaghetti straps and a thick brown belt around her waist. Even though she’s completely covered and not dressed sexy on purpose—like most of the woman in this place—her tan skin that is exposed is so fucking hot. She’s waiting for the bartender to notice her and I can’t help the smile that spreads across my stupid face just seeing her again.
What is wrong with me?
It’s not like she’s the first girl I’ve ever met but there is just something about her. I couldn’t wait to get back into town tonight to meet up with her again.
“Well, hello there, Emily from Portland. What can I get ya?” I say into her ear after pushing my way through the crowd to where she’s patiently waiting at the bar. God, she smells so damn good—like vacation!
There it is, that blush that she gets so easily and so often. Adorable.
“Thanks for the offer Jonathan from Savannah, as always the gentleman,” she says with a little curtsy, “but I got it covered. Thanks for the offer though.”
“Now, I wouldn’t be much of a gentleman if I ran into a friend at a fine establishment such as Dukes and didn’t offer to get them a drink, now would I? So, I’ll ask again, what’s your poison?”