Chapter 12 Jonah - Past
twelve
Jonah - Past
OKAY, RABBIT.
“How the fuck did I let you talk me into this?” I complained, uncaring of who was listening, as Becca dragged me through a crowd of way too many people.
“Oh, shut up, JJ! It’s a fucking party. Have something to drink and try to have some fun, would you?” she shot back, pulling me between the bodies.
It was a big house, even bigger than Richard’s, yet somehow there was hardly any space with all the people here. I recognized some of them from school, but I didn’t talk to them there, and I had no plans to talk to them here.
Bee had tried—and failed—to get me to wear a costume tonight. It wasn’t Halloween and we weren’t children, so a costume party was stupid. Still, she did look cute.
She was a Playboy bunny or something? With a glossy white spandex-looking leotard she’d made me help her get into cut high over her hips, pink fishnet tights, and thigh-high white boots that brought her from six foot three up to six foot nine.
Taller if you included the white-and-pink bunny ears on top of her head.
So yeah, it was unlikely I’d lose track of her tonight when she stood above the crowd with her neon hair like a sexy lighthouse to navigate my way through this drunken storm.
While Bee hadn’t convinced me to dress in costume, she had convinced me to wear something other than one of my hoodies.
Instead, I wore one of her dark denim jackets over a knock-off designer black T-shirt and some ripped skinny jeans that I was surprised fit me.
Her shoes were too big for me, much to her dismay, so I stuck with my checkered Vans.
She’d also put some sort of product in my hair that smelled good, but I couldn’t remember what it was supposed to have done.
I didn’t care how I looked, but I’d let her style me since she was so excited about it.
“Want a drink?” Becca asked.
“Sure.”
She cheered before letting go of my hand to get us some alcohol.
Being around my dad made me wary of ever touching the stuff, and before, my strict diet and schedule had never allowed for binge drinking, so I hadn’t actually ever been drunk before. I wasn’t planning on getting drunk now, but maybe one or two would help me relax.
Bee returned with two red cups and handed one to me.
“What’s in it?” I called over the music as she dragged us into the main living room.
“Best not to ask. Just drink it,” she responded, taking a big sip of hers.
As concerning as that was, when in Rome… I took a big gulp before I could think better of it and grimaced. It wasn’t terrible, but it certainly wasn’t good. I believed part of it was pineapple juice, the other part… some form of poison.
“It’s best to drink it quickly,” she called out, lifting her cup again. I followed suit.
I lost track of how many drinks I’d had so far. After I finished the first one, Becca had gotten me a second, and behold! Every cup I’d finished since was magically refilled. Whatever liquid was in the cup tasted better now than it had at the start. I’d even go so far as to say I liked it.
Bee was definitely drunk. She was singing and dancing to every song, even though it was very apparent she did not know the words, but she was having fun, and her fun was infectious. I’d never sing in front of people like that, but I enjoyed when she did it.
“I’m gonna go piss,” she whispered into my ear, stumbling slightly.
“Go piss, girl!” I cheered. Why was I cheering again?
“Look after these.” She pulled her bunny ears off and gently nestled the headband into my hair instead. “The band’s too tight. It’s hurting my brain.”
As she stumbled away, I jiggled my head from side to side to watch the ears shake when I looked up at them.
I could see what she meant. The headband definitely gave a little pressure, which I guessed was to stop it from falling off, or whatever.
I didn’t know, and I didn’t care. Becca entrusted me with her ears. I was gonna take care of them.
One song turned into two, and I was suddenly worried about where she had gotten to. My cup was empty again, but I didn’t want to brave whatever social situation was happening in the kitchen alone to get a refill. Becca did that for us.
When the next song ended, I wondered if I should try looking for her. I hadn’t needed the bathroom yet, so I didn’t know where it was, but if I had to go on that quest, then I would.
I walked into the hallway, noticing the way the walls seemed to be a little fuzzy and wobbly. Weird.
I decided the best approach to finding which one of these many doors was the bathroom was to open all of them. So I opened the first door, only to catch an eyeful of someone’s ass as they were deep inside someone else’s ass, and I very quickly slammed the door shut again.
“Whoops!” I said loudly to no one in particular.
That was not the bathroom.
I hadn’t told Becca about my moment in Meadow Park with Dex, and I wouldn’t, because it didn’t mean anything.
That didn’t stop me replaying it in my head, over and over on a loop.
That weird feeling in my stomach stirred to life every time I thought about how close we’d gotten before that asshole blew his ashtray breath into my mouth.
It had caused some confusing bodily reactions, which I refused to examine past the basic fact that maybe my sex drive was finally waking up.
That’s all it was. It had nothing to do with him.
Even if his face came to mind, against my will, when I was dealing with said bodily reactions.
It was the first time I’d thought about someone specific while jerking off.
Normally, it was just sensations, a means to an end that I took care of as quickly as possible so I could get on with my day.
It was perfunctory. So the first time after that day when I’d done it, the usual faceless fantasy had morphed into his arm around my waist as he shoved me into the ground, his hot, smoke-scented breath on the side of my face.
I’d been so shocked I’d abandoned my mission in favor of a cold shower.
The second time it happened, though, I gave in to it.
Twenty years was apparently how long it had taken for my dick to figure out what it liked, and for some infuriating reason, it liked Dex fucking Weller.
That didn’t mean I did. I’d use him to get off, sure, but I still wanted nothing to do with him.
Nothing at all. The fact that just picturing him gave me the best orgasms I’d ever experienced didn’t mean I wanted to know what it was like to actually have those rough hands touching me.
Those pale, intense eyes focused on me. Those lips that breathed smoky air from his mouth to my mouth…
When I eventually found the bathroom, it was blissfully empty, until I remembered the reason I was looking for it in the first place was to find Becca. Not so much bliss, then.
The combination of Dex surfacing in my thoughts and the scene I’d accidentally stumbled on in the bedroom made my dick stir in my pants.
It wasn’t like I wanted him to do that to me.
The two things had nothing to do with each other.
Still, it took longer than it should have to dismiss the idea of jerking off.
I used the toilet and then resumed my search for my sexy lighthouse best friend. Maybe she’d gone to get us more drinks.
She wasn’t in the kitchen either, though. I refilled my cup. All by myself. Go, Jonah! Armed with my liquid fun, I kept looking. Maybe she was back in the living room, and I’d somehow missed her.
I turned the corner and ran into something hard and solid, almost bouncing right back off.
“Shit,” I cursed as I noticed the wet patch on the shirt of the guy I’d run into.
“I’m so—” My apology died on my tongue when my eyes drifted up, first to that ridiculous skull-and-wings neck tattoo, then higher until I was caught in the icy eyes of Dex Weller.
He wasn’t wearing a costume, of course he wasn’t, just a gray shirt under his dusty black leather jacket, black jeans, and of course those scratched-up old black combat boots.
My mouth went dry. I couldn’t find my words, and suddenly I was wondering if my hair looked okay. I panicked that it didn’t when Dex’s eyes left mine to stare at the top of my head for a few seconds before he huffed in amusement.
“Fancy seeing you here, City Boy.” He grinned.
“Don’t call me that,” I scowled.
“Okay, Rabbit.”
I stared at him in confusion. I’d expected something else… but Rabbit? His eyes flicked to the top of my head again. My fingers lifted to smooth out my hair and instead found the headband of Becca’s bunny ears. The fucking bunny ears. I yanked them off.
“They’re Becca’s!”
“Sure they are.”
“They are!” I’m not sure why, but it felt very important that he believed me.
“I know. Goes with the rest of her outfit,” he chuckled.
“Wait, you’ve seen my Becca? Where?”
Dex turned his head to look into the hallway, and I looked at the wet patch on his shirt again. Deciding to at least try to brush it off, my fingers swiped at the fabric—well, more like rubbed. It wasn’t coming off. I rubbed more vigorously, glaring at the spot. It wasn’t easy without a free hand.
“Here, hold this.” I lifted the headband and popped it onto his head instead. With my newly freed hand and my trusty denim sleeve, I rubbed his shirt in earnest.
Dex’s hand reached out and swiped my drink from me in response.
“Hey, what the fuck? Give me that back!” I demanded, but instead of listening, he brought the cup up to his nose to sniff at the contents before grimacing.
“Fuck, how many of these have you had?”
“Some.”
“Are you even twenty-one?”
“None of your beeswax, gimme drink!” I reached for it, but he kept it out of range by twisting his body away. I hadn’t realized I was leaning on him until I stumbled, but before I could fall on my face, his arm was around my waist yet again, pulling me into him.
“Easy there, Rabbit. I’ll give it back in a sec. Weren’t you looking for Bee?”
Oh yeah. Bee!
“Where’s Bee?”
“This way, come on.”
I had little choice as he pulled me along with him down the hallway toward the back entrance. There were too many people out there. Too much noise.
“She’s there.” He pointed over the crowd, and sure enough, I caught sight of her neon-orange hair like a beacon.
She was talking to some guy with a beard and a man bun, and I did not like him.
Somehow the guy was only slightly shorter than her with her giant boots, and he was built like a brick wall.
But it didn’t matter; that was my Becca.
“Whoa there, little rabbit.” Dex’s hand caught the collar of my jacket as I tried to march over there and get my friend back.
“I’m not fucking little. I’m only like, an inch shorter than you.” I pouted.
“It counts,” he retorted childishly.
“Does not.”
“Does too.”
“Fuck you.”
His brow twitched up suggestively, and heat flushed through me. Hell fucking no. I pushed away from him only to stumble, and he chuckled. “Come with me.”
“But Becca—”
“She’s with my friend. She’s safe, I promise. Now let’s go.”