8. Melissa
8
MELISSA
“ M elissa?” Jason’s voice cut through the darkness. “You out here?”
“Yeah,” I whispered back. I could hear his footsteps swishing through the overgrown grass in the McGrath’s backyard. “Is Bee with you?”
He laughed quietly. “Nah. She’s in her room, talking on the phone to some new prick. I’ll let her have her fun and then track him down at school and scare the shit out of him.”
“What are you doing out here?” I asked.
It was late, and we had school tomorrow. The semester was almost over. Exams were coming up. Even though the Naval Academy had already accepted Jase, he still worked hard to maintain his GPA.
I dreaded my senior year.
Not because I wasn’t good at school—I was. I dreaded it because my parents would probably have me studying under lock and key for most of the school year. I loved my folks to death, but they had high expectations for me. And not just academically. I was expected to be above reproach in every aspect of my life .
Thank God we weren’t living on base this time.
Living under the microscope there was even worse. Everyone who reported to my dad kept an eye on me.
It was suffocating.
“I was coming over to ask you the same thing,” Jase said as he hopped the fence between our houses and sauntered to the swing set.
This was usually where we met—late at night, under cover of darkness. It was like… our secret spot.
“Whatcha doin’ out here?” he asked.
I liked that Jase and I had something that was just ours. Sometimes Bridget would come over, too. But she was usually preoccupied with Chase or whatever boy she was talking to.
I would never admit it out loud, but I loved when Jase wandered over to the swing set.
Getting undivided attention from one of the most popular seniors made me feel mature. Respected. Grown-up. But he was my best friend’s brother, so it wasn’t like I could let myself crush on him.
That position was currently filled by Steve Pelham. It was a harmless little crush, but a crush, nonetheless.
He’d been in love with his girlfriend, Heather, since elementary school. I didn’t even stand a chance. Besides, she was one of my closest friends.
But a girl could dream.
It wasn’t like I was pining over Steve, though. I was more than happy to play the field. See what other fish were in the sea.
Hence, my current status: grounded.
“Maybe don’t let the Colonel see you,” I whispered. “At this point, I’m grounded until I go to college. I don’t wanna push it and have my punishment extended until I’m forty.”
Jason’s bright smile lit up the night sky. “Don’t tell me you’re out here breaking the rules, Mel. You’re too good for that.”
I rolled my eyes .
“What happened?” he asked as he sat down on the swing beside me. The old frame groaned and bowed under his weight.
“What didn’t happen?” I sighed, digging my toes into the grass. “I’m grounded for life. And if reincarnation is a thing, I’ll probably be grounded in the next life, too.”
“Damn,” he snickered. “That much trouble, huh? What’d you do? Get an A-minus on a quiz?”
I shot him a look.
Jase grinned and bumped my shoulder. “I don’t believe it. You never break the rules.”
“Oh, believe it,” I said despairingly. “Where do I even begin? I got a B minus on a math test, I was late for curfew last night, and my dad caught me on the phone with…”
“With?”
I groaned. “I was on the phone with Matt Reeves. I was talking to him on the cordless phone in my room with the door shut, and my dad picked up the other line in the kitchen and ? —”
“I didn’t know you and Matt were a thing,” Jase clipped.
I shrugged. “We’re not. Well, now we’re not. I’m basically forbidden from talking to boys ever again. I guess my only option is to become a lesbian.”
Jase laughed.
“It’s not funny!” I clipped, elbowing him.
“Come on, Mel. It’s pretty funny,” he snickered. “It couldn’t have been that bad. What’d he overhear?”
I dropped my head into my hands. “Too much.”
“Mel…”
“I’m not telling you about that conversation,” I said as I began to swing slowly back and forth.
“Why not?” he pressed.
“Because.”
“Because… Why? ”
“Because it’s embarrassing!”
“Did you tell Bee?”
“Yeah?”
“Then it can’t be that embarrassing,” he said.
I sighed. “I’ve been hanging out with Matt after school. He asked me if I wanted to go to the beach on Saturday.”
Even in the dim light glowing from my house, I could see Jason’s brow furrow. “What’s so bad about that?”
“He told me about this beach access down at Pine Knoll Shores that he knows about. He said barely anyone goes there. The parking is really secluded, and there’s basically no chance of getting caught if we…” My voice trailed off.
Jase didn’t grimace like I expected. He didn’t laugh at my mortification. Instead, he frowned. His grip on the swing chains tightened.
“Don’t give me the big brother riot act, Jase,” I clipped.
“Mel, you’re a freshman. I’d kill Bee if she told me she was fooling around in the back of a car at a public beach access.”
“It’s not like I was going to do it!” I exclaimed as quietly as I could. “Geez. Doesn’t anyone around here trust me? I’m so sick of everyone smothering me. I just want a little space to breathe and be my own person.”
“I don’t trust Matt Reeves,” he said.
I raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re friends with him.”
He got off the swing and stomped back over to his house, muttering, “Not after this.”
“So, who is this guy again?” Jase called from the living room. He had been scrolling rental listings on his laptop while I went through my pre-date rituals.
Briefly, I wondered if I should start burning sage around the apartment before dates. It couldn’t hurt. I needed to get rid of the negative energy if I wanted the date to go well.
Unfortunately, the negative energy was blond, hot, and a solid foot taller than me. He wouldn’t be exorcised from my couch by a little smudging.
“His name is Jonathan,” I said as I craned over the bathroom sink and brushed a shimmery gold shadow over my eyelids. “We matched on an app and hit it off. We’ve been talking a lot, but he just moved here, so this is the first time we’re getting together.”
“Last name?” Jase hollered.
“Uh, Jonathan Michaels.”
The typing intensified.
I popped out of the bathroom, wielding my mascara wand. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Jase?”
“Well, he didn’t consent to a background check, so I can’t call Steve and Chase to run his name. I’m settling for a social media deep dive.” His sharp tone and laser focus left no room for argument.
“Oh my God,” I huffed, throwing my hands in the air. “You boys are impossible. We’re going to dinner at The Sanitary, and then going back to his place to watch a movie.”
Jase dropped his laptop on the coffee table and stormed to the bathroom door. He braced his hands on the doorframe and leveled a searing look. “That is quite possibly the stupidest plan you could have made, Mel. Do you realize what going back to his place to watch a movie really means?”
“Yeah,” I snapped. “It means I’ve got a toothbrush, extra panties, and condoms in my purse.” I swiped on a coat of lip gloss, turned, and patted his cheek. “I’m a grown woman. Not the little girl who was your next-door neighbor and the target of your unnecessary chivalry. I don’t need to be protected. Well, unless it’s protection of the safe-sex variety. I always bring my own condoms.”
I swear he growled.
Jase followed me into my bedroom. “Where does he live?”
I narrowed my eyes on him. “Why?”
“So, I know where to have the cops start if you end up starring in an episode of The First 48. ”
I rolled my eyes and pulled the burnt-orange romper off the hanger. “You need a hobby. Or a job.”
“I’m going to the range with Chase next week.”
“Great. So I’m going to get a whole weekend of overprotective big brothering?”
Jase clenched his jaw.
“I’m going to be fine,” I assured him. “Bridget can track where I am on her phone. She’s the one who insisted I go on all these dates, so I told her she had to turn on Find My Friends. She knows to call Steve and Chase if I don’t check in with her by midnight.”
I dropped my robe, not caring that Jase was still standing there. He had never seen me any other way than like a sister.
That moment we had when I came home from work the other morning? That was just male morning wood and me being too tired to know when to back the hell away.
Besides, he reverted to teasing me like he always did. Why else would he have made that crack about my lack of culinary prowess?
I stepped into the romper and zipped it up before grabbing a pair of strappy sandals from my closet. I hopped up onto the bed and slid one on, buckling it before sliding on the other.
Jase knelt in front of me, propping my foot on his knee. “I got it.”
He slipped the strap through the buckle with deft fingers, tightened it, then looped it through the other side. His hand lingered on my foot for a moment. His grip was warm and firm .
“You, uh… You look nice.”
“Thanks.” I smiled as I fluffed my corkscrew curls. I grabbed a pair of teal earrings off my nightstand and fastened them on.
Jase crossed his arms over his chest. The faded Naval aviation t-shirt he wore was stretched tight, nearly bursting at the seams. “Be safe, okay?”
I gave him a playful salute as I grabbed my purse. “Sir, yes, sir.”
The Sanitary was bustling. Then again, it always was this time of year. Summertimers flocked to it for the food and the view. There was nothing fancy about the old wood chairs or the vinyl cloths that covered the wobbly tables. But it was a local landmark, and for good reason.
I met Jonathan at the front of the restaurant. My heart did that fluttery thing that told me it was going to be a good date.
He was taller than me. Then again, everyone was. Jet black hair, warm skin, and kind eyes that crinkled at the corners. He had sharp cheekbones and a killer jaw that most women would murder for.
“I’m so glad we were able to get together,” I said, smiling at Jonathan.
“Me too.” He grinned. “This place looks awesome. I’m glad you know the good spots around town.”
We took our seats at a two-seater table on the waterfront wraparound porch. The weather was perfect. Warm, with a light breeze coming off the ocean.
“How’s the move been?” I asked as I unwrapped my straw and stuck it into my sweet tea. “Do you miss Seattle?”
Jonathan had recently moved to Beaufort to take a job at the NOAA research lab on Pivers Island .
“It’s good,” he said, taking a sip from his beer. “Definitely a slower pace. I miss my family, but the job is great.”
“Do you have a big family?”
The waitress appeared, and we placed our orders. Shrimp and grits for me, and a ribeye for Jonathan.
When she left to give our order to the kitchen, Jonathan spoke up. “Yeah, actually. I only have one sibling—my sister, Jill. But we have tons of cousins, and my grandma lives with my parents. There’s always a houseful.”
“That sounds like fun,” I said. “I’m an only child, so I always wished I had a big, loud family when I was younger.”
“You said you moved around a lot growing up?” he recalled.
I nodded. “I was born overseas, actually. My dad was stationed in Japan. I don’t remember living there. I was really young. But I’ve seen pictures. After that, it was Virginia, then Germany, and then Beaufort.”
“Wow,” he chuckled, taking another swing. “That’s a lot. And you decided to stay in Beaufort?”
“Actually, we were only here for a few years while my dad was stationed at Cherry Point. In my last year of high school, we were sent to Arizona. I had friends here and always loved the area, so I came back and took a job here after college.”
“Nursing,” he filled in, recalling the basics we had already talked about.
“Yeah.” I giggled. “I love the ER. It’s such a rush. You never know what you’re going to get. It’s all about thinking on your feet. The adrenaline of it all is addicting.”
Jonathan leaned back in his chair. His easy smile was attractive. “So, what do you do in your free time when you’re not saving lives?”
“Um, a lot. I like to stay busy. Living on the coast is great because there’s always something to do. I like being outside. I like working out.”
“I can see that.” He grinned. “Is it impolite to say I’m a little intimidated?”
Heat flooded my cheeks. “Um, I guess not?” I took a sip from my tea to stave off the embarrassment. “I, uh, I did The Murph a few weeks ago. I train for it every year.”
His brow furrowed. “What’s that?”
I used my straw to stir the melting ice in my drink. “It’s this workout that people do for Memorial Day. A mile run, a hundred pull-ups, two hundred push-ups, three hundred squats, and another mile run. Everyone has to do it wearing a twenty-pound weighted vest.”
Jonathan’s eyes bugged out. “Dear God! Why would you put yourself through that?” He laughed and rubbed his throat. “That sounds awful.”
I looked out over the waterfront awkwardly. “I guess it’s not for everyone. I mean, it’s a fundraiser for a scholarship foundation, so it goes to a good cause.”
He coughed and took another drink of his beer, trying to clear his throat. “Seems like something gym bros are into. I, uh, wasn’t expecting that from you.” He coughed again. “Not that women can’t, you know, go to the gym. I mean, how you described yourself in your profile was… feminine .”
Our waitress returned with our dinner. I withheld my snide comments as she unloaded our plates with a promise to return and check on us in a few minutes.
I stabbed my fork through a piece of shrimp to avoid saying something that would send this date to the romance graveyard.
Jonathan coughed again, and I looked up from my shrimp and grits. “Are you okay? ”
He rubbed his throat and drained the rest of his beer. “I’m good. I, uh… My throat’s a little tight.”
I wanted to berate him about how women could be feminine and strong, but my nursing instincts kicked in. Red patches were splotched all over his skin.
“Are you allergic to anything?” I asked.
“Shellfish,” he said. “But I haven’t eaten any.”
Oh my damn. “How allergic are we talking?”
Jonathan coughed again. “My mom made me carry an EpiPen around when I was a kid, but I haven’t had a reaction in years, so I don’t carry one anymore. I think I outgrew it.”
“Anaphylaxis?” I asked, rummaging through my purse to see if I had any allergy medication.
“What?”
For a smart guy, he sure was stupid. “ What happens when you have a reaction ?” I snapped.
He sucked in a raspy breath. That was probably a clearer answer than anything he could have told me.
“I’m fine,” he wheezed, waving it off with a hive-covered hand. “I didn’t eat any shellfish. I ordered a steak.”
Dumbass.
“It’s a seafood restaurant. There are probably traces of shellfish on your beer bottle, on the table, everywhere,” I clipped. I stood up, cupping my hands around my mouth as I shouted across the packed outdoor dining area. “Does anyone have an EpiPen?”
“Melissa, get down,” he hissed, irritated that I was making a scene.
I glared at him, not even deigning him worthy of a response. “Anyone! I need an EpiPen!”
Forks dropped, and every eye stared at me as I waited, hoping someone would come in clutch. A lady stood up and waved her purse in the air .
“I do!” she called back, hustling down the aisle. God bless prepared moms. “Here you go. My daughter has a peanut allergy, so I always have it on me.”
The lady handed me the EpiPen just in time. Jonathan’s swollen lips made him look like the poster child for botched plastic surgery.
“Can you call 911?” I asked her as I pulled off the blue plastic safety cap.
She was already dialing.
“Tell them a thirty-four-year-old male is having a severe allergic reaction to shellfish. He’s going into anaphylaxis.”
Jonathan’s eyes widened as he watched me aim the orange end of the EpiPen at the middle of his thigh.
“Well,” I sighed as I stabbed him in the leg. Jonathan groaned and writhed in pain. I massaged the injection site with one hand and used the other to check his pulse. “I guess I’m picking up the check.”