20. Julie
20
T here’s something soothing about watching Jason and Jordan catch wave after wave.
I’ve been sitting here for the last hour, admiring his skills on a surfboard while the sun slowly sets in the background. The warm sand comforts my palms, and though I’m not a big fan of the ocean, the sight truly is magnificent.
If I didn’t know he never surfed a day in his life before he moved to LA, I’d think he’s been surfing since he was a kid. He’s good. He’s really good.
And now I’m curious what it feels like to ride a wave with confidence, being one with the ocean even though it also scares me to death. To feel the salty water on my skin.
Will I ever be brave enough to face my fears? When I look at Jason flying over those waves like he’s got wings, I like to believe I will. I like to think I can.
My heart has faith.
But my mind has a lasso around it, holding it back from flying away, in any kind of form.
Jordan comes strolling out of the water, water dripping from his chest, his board tucked underneath his arm. He really turned from scrawny kid into beach boy from heaven in just a couple of years.
His face lights up like I’m his favorite sibling, though all we share is some childhood memories.
“You two are looking good out there.” My hand shields my eyes from the sun as I glance past his toned body.
“I look better. You can be honest.” He drops his wet ass next to me in the sand with a wolfish grin.
“Don’t flirt with me, Cash . I’m not one of your groupies.” I bump my shoulders against his.
“Ha! I don’t have groupies. Unless you count the old lady from the bakery on my block.”
“How old?”
“I’m sure she met Elvis back in the day.”
I belt out a laugh. “Lots of experience.”
He joins in, his pearl white teeth glistening in the evening sun.
“I’m happy you guys are talking again.”
I push out the air in my chest, my muscles releasing some tension with it.
“Me too.” It’s confusing as hell sometimes, but knowing Jason is just a phone call away does something with me.
It’s like everything is slowly clicking back in place after they screwed up the puzzle.
“So you guys are cool?”
“We’re getting there, I think. I hope.”
Part of me knows exactly what we’re doing. Or what he’s doing. I feel it every time he finds a reason to touch me. Brush his hand along my back when he passes by. The way he texts me every morning and calls me every night if we haven’t seen each other.
It doesn’t feel weird or forced, because it’s exactly how we were before shit hit the fan.
But it’s not just that. It’s the kisses he steals. The sneaky ones when I don't expect him. It’s how my skin breaks out in goosebumps when he pushes my hair to the side and connects his lips with my neck.
Ever since my last panic attack a couple of days ago, he’s upped his game, and I’m fully aware I should stop it. But I can’t. Or I don’t want to. Maybe both.
“Why’d you come to LA, Jules?” I meet Jordan’s blue eyes.
I expect them to be laced with accusation, maybe even frustration, but all I see is a kindness I also see in Jason. They are almost identical to his brother’s. A mix of sea-blue, dark, sparkling, and deep enough to drown in.
“Because NVS offered me a job.” I shrug, and he cocks his head as if he’s calling bullshit. “What? It’s true.”
It might look like I came here for Jason, and I’m not gonna lie, I did like knowing I was in the same city as him even though we weren’t exactly on speaking terms. But it’s not like I was looking for a job on the West Coast. It fell into my lap. Call it serendipity, I don’t know.
“Look, I know I’m just Jacob and Jason’s kid brother. But I’m not dense.”
“Never said you were.” I shake my head, then hold his gaze. “What’s on your mind?”
His eyes narrow a little, as if he’s deep in thought, trying to look for answers deep into my soul.
Too bad, I don’t have any.
“I’m just trying to figure out if you’re running from something or running toward something. Or should I say, someone .”
There’s the accusing tone I was waiting for.
“Maybe it’s both,” I confess.
Jordan nods, pointing his gaze at his brother, who’s still being one with the ocean.
I want to tell them the truth about Jacob. I want to tell someone, at least. But unlike Jacob, being the clear black sheep of the family, Jason and Jordan are good guys. They are chivalrous, loyal, and they have their hearts beating fierce and strong for those they care about.
I know what will happen if I tell them. They will raise hell, and they will risk way more than they are bargaining for right now. It will destroy Jason’s career, and Jacob has already destroyed one of us. That’s more than enough.
“He hasn’t been himself without you the last couple of months,” Jordan confesses, never dropping his focus from the crashing waves against the beach. “The two of you not talking is just weird. It’s like you are two peas in a pod.”
Emotion settles in my spine, pressing and aching. “I wasn’t the one not talking to him, Jordan.”
I begged the universe to let him answer his phone. I called him twenty times a day for a week. I texted him. I emailed him.
He ghosted me .
“I know. I also know you’re keeping something from us. Something about Jacob.”
I’m happy he’s not looking at me because that big ball of emotion is quickly watering my eyes like a damn waterfall.
“Jordan,” I croak out.
He shakes his head, then shoots me a comforting smile. “You don’t have to tell me. I know you won’t. I trust you have a good reason for not telling us.”
Gulp . Goddamn. When did he get so wise and all grown up? He’s supposed to stay a kid and ask silly questions and annoy me. Not bring me to the brink of tears with shit like ‘I know, but I’m mature enough to not whine about it’ . Who does that?
Jordan Spencer does that. 25 years old, soon-to-be singer-songwriter, who has a heart of gold, just like Jason. Considering I lost my only sibling, Jordan is very good at filling the void.
“I do,” I confirm, swallowing my tears away. Smoothly, I press my palms into my eyes to get rid of the excess moisture, just as Jason strolls out of the water.
“If I need to pick between Jacob or you, I will pick you. So will Jason.”
I swipe my head at Jordan, my features beaming with gratitude. It can’t be easy to admit that. To admit that your loyalty lies with someone other than your own flesh and blood.
I’m not sure I deserve it, but the feeling it gives me falls over me like a warm blanket.
“Thank you, Jordan.” I wrap my arms around his neck, then press a warm kiss to his cheeks.
“Are you after my girl, li’l bro?” Jason squints at his little brother, the sun at his back, glowing beside his head like a goddamn god.
Water is dripping down his six-pack, and I lick my lips, then press my teeth in the soft cushions to hold back the words that are trying to be spit out, like bowling balls returning to the rack. God, he’s sexy.
And that jealous glint in his eyes, holy hell. Wait, did he just say his girl?
“Your girl?” Jordan mocks, at the same time I blurt, “Since when am I your girl?”
“You’re sure as hell not his.”
“Oh, he’s so cute when he’s jealous. Don’t you think he looks cute?” Jordan slaps my thigh, and I lean my cheek against his shoulder to get a better look at the broad man in front of me.
He’s representing almost two dozen athletes, but the way his legs and arms are chiseled, you’d suspect he’s a professional athlete himself.
Sculpted arms like a baseball player.
Firm legs like a hockey player.
A torso you can do your laundry on in time of need. And shit, now my dirty mind wants to get a closer look at the package hidden by his midnight blue swimming shorts.
“He does look cute,” I admit through my thick lashes.
“Like a growling golden retriever.”
“He might bite, though,” I mock, peering innocently at the growing scowl on his expression.
I like poking him. I like seeing him jealous. I love him possessive. Love, Julie? Really? Fuck, I meant as friends. Right, friends. Yeah, that’s exactly what I mean.
“Just me, not you. He’ll probably just want to lick you.”
Oh, hot damn, Jordan. Did he have to utter the word lick? Now all I can think about is Jason licking. Me. Long, hard, precise.
And now I’m horny. My thighs clench, something throbbing between my legs.
Jason points his finger at his brother. “If you still want to use your fingers to play your precious guitar, I suggest you zip it.”
Jordan rolls his eyes, then gets up. “That’s my cue. I’m gonna catch another wave.”
He casually throws me a wink, then grabs his board and mulls his way through the sand.
“I hate him,” Jason growls before Jordan’s feet have hit the water, and my eyes roll to the back of my head while I laugh.
“No, you don’t.”
“No, I don’t.” Jason drops his ass next to mine. “But he does annoy the shit out of me.”
“You know, you really are cute when you’re jealous.”
“Is that so?” He pulls me onto his lap until I’m straddling him, my front to his.
My heart hammers its way up my throat, the tips of my fingers connecting with the soft skin below his ear as I hold on to his neck.
Deep blue eyes reflect not a speck of doubt as they lock with mine, and when they drop to my lips, my breath hitches.
I’m hyper aware of his hands on my body. How he strokes small brushes over the small of my back with the sole goal of finding a piece of bare skin below my crop top. How my center is feeling more pressure from his pants as the seconds tick away. How he apparently has the key to the zoo of butterflies I’ve had locked up somewhere between a liver and a kidney for years.
What did I ever see in his brother?
“Jason?” My throat is dry as fuck and, damn, Julie, can you sound more desperate?
“Yeah?” His breath scatters over my face, and he cups my cheek, the touch briefly shutting my eyes.
“What are we doing?”
“Right now, I’m about to kiss you.”
“We should take it slow.”
We said slow. Fuck, what am I saying? I can’t do this period. If Jacob finds out, he will destroy us both. He will destroy everything Jason has worked so hard for. I can’t.
So, why am I moving closer to his lips like I’m desperate to get burned. Why am I flying too close to the sun, knowing it will turn my heart into ashes when I get back on my two feet?
“Baby, we are way past the point of taking things slow,” Jason whispers.
“I’m scared.”
“One kiss.”
“One kiss.” What am I doing?
But there are no fucking take-backsies in that comment, because before I can backpaddle, his lips are firmly pressed against mine.
And I’m gone. Incinerated by the sun.
This is nothing like calling a truce. That was hasty, hurried, toe-curling still, but that was a distraction to get me to shut up. To stop me from walking away with a thundercloud up my drunk ass.
But this? Yeah, this is different. This is all-consuming, torturously slow, and building a high I only felt that one time I did molly.
Long kisses, tender strokes of his tongue against mine, a push and pull that has the purpose to drive me wild and lose control as my hips grind into his groin. His wet swimming trunks teasing my clit as it alternates from hot to cold.
Fuck.
I hear myself moan, but the sound is muffled by another deep kiss, sucking the air from my lungs. My blush pink bikini bottoms are getting wetter, my clit throbbing every time it’s tickled by another flick of movement.
“Slow, Jason.” I break loose, because I’m about to dry hump him on the beach.
Our foreheads stay connected, our breaths mixing as he takes my face in his hands.
“Baby, you’re killing me.” Another kiss follows, but this one is sweet, soft, a I-hear-you-but-I-can’t-stop-kissing-you, making my insides shiver. “But we’ll take it slow.”
I’m killing him? I’m fucking killing myself. He has no clue how hard this is. How badly I want things to go back to normal. How badly I want him . If I felt like I had a choice, I’d pick him. And ironically, by keeping my distance, that’s exactly what I’m doing.
“Come on.” He taps my thigh, softly pushing me off, then gets up and holds out his hand.
“We’re leaving?”
“No, we’re going to get wet.” Goddamnit, does he ever fucking listen?
“Jason, we just agreed on slow.”
A crooked grin slides onto his handsome face, his soft tan shining in the late sun.
“Not the kind of wet I was talking about, though if that’s where your mind is going, I can definitely get on board.”
My eyebrows pull together like magnets, not missing the innuendo, but definitely not following what he’s talking about. Question and excitement light up his face like a Christmas tree, and I don’t know what to make of it.
But then he lifts his eyebrows, and suddenly my attention is captured by Jordan in the ocean. Ocean. Oh, no.
My eyes grow wide.
“You didn’t think I asked you to come to sit there and just look pretty, right?”