Our Totally, Ridiculous, Made-Up Christmas Relationship Page 8

  “What do you want, Jules? You want meaningless?” His voice is harsh, rough around the edges, and I flinch at his intensity. “How do you want it? Hard? Aggressive? Fast? Deep? You want me to pull your hair, unzip your pants, and slide off your panties without saying your name once? You want to wake up the next morning alone? Feeling hopeless yet again?” His hands wrap around my waist and he tugs my hips toward him. His voice softens and his touch becomes gentler. “Or do you want me to make fake love to every inch of your body? Telling you how I am the luckiest man alive to call you mine? Do you want me to take my time with you? Whispering sweet-everythings into your ear? You want my lips to kiss yours in such a way that makes it hard to tell where yours begin or mine end? Then do you want to fall asleep in my arms and wake up around two a.m. and make fake love with me all over again?”

  He steps away from me, leaving my brain foggy, and he slides his hands into his jeans pockets.

  “Or do you want me to be Danny? Because I pride myself in being a pretty damn good actor, let me know what role I’ll be playing. The meaningless man-whore, the hopeful and endless lover, or the pathetic ex-boyfriend who used you and left you to become this weak thing before me.”

  I’m insulted by his words. He could’ve said no and left it at that, but no—he had to make me feel like a fool. “Fuck you,” I whisper.

  “Exactly, sweetheart!” he sings, clapping his hands together. “You just tell me how.”

  “Ugh, do you have to be such an asshole?”

  “Do you want me to be? Because, clearly, I’m an actor. I’m unattached to feelings, to real emotions.” He gestures toward the closed door, “I’m just like them.”

  My feet fidget against the floor. “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t have to.”

  I feel terrible, because I am terrible. I’ve managed to disrespect and piss off the one and only ally I have in this place. What’s wrong with me? “I’m—I’m sleepy,” I mutter, filled with my own self-hatred.

  He sighs, picks up a pair of sweatpants from his suitcase, and nods. “Me too.” He heads for the bathroom attached to our room and when the door slams, I stomp my feet against the ground.

  Idiot!

  Changing into my puppy pajamas, I hop into the left side of the bed, covering myself up with blankets, including my head. I hope by the time Kayden re-enters he’ll think I’m sleeping.

  I hear the turning of the knob and peek out to see him staring at me.

  “I know you’re not asleep in the two minutes I’ve been gone. But I do apologize for the way I spoke to you.” I don’t say a word, and he moves to the right side of the bed before pausing. It’s a big bed, so there’s enough distance between us to make it a little less awkward—but it’s awkward nonetheless. Picking up a few blankets and pillows, he moves over to the large couch that is lying against the wall. Good—sharing a bed would be a little too real for me.

  “I’m sorry, too. For being—”

  “—Crazy? Twisted? A lunatic?” He lists all of my very blatant characteristics, and I can hear the smile in his voice. I smell the mint scent of his toothpaste and wish I weren’t such a dummy, because I really could use another Kayden kiss.

  “I was going to say for being sleepy, but crazy works.” I laugh, and I hear him snicker, too. Pulling the cover from over my head, I turn to find his face resting in my direction. There’s a large gap between our bodies, but I feel as if we are already holding one another. “Did we just have our first fake fight?”

  He nods. “For a first fake fight, that was pretty short-lived. We really have to work on that. Maybe more screaming next time.”

  “Maybe a little more name-calling, shoe-throwing, to edge it up a bit. Make it more believable.”

  A grin makes its way to his face, and he turns it back toward the ceiling. A period of silence follows, but it’s not weird. It seems natural actually, the ease of not talking, a comfortable silence. I never had that with Danny. I always felt as though I had to entertain him, to stay interesting in order to keep his attention. Truth of the matter is, there was nothing I could have done differently—he wouldn’t have loved me the way I wanted him to. You can’t make someone fall in love with you just because you fell in love with them first. Before Danny I never realized how dangerous this emotion is—how lonely love can truly be.

  Kayden clears his throat and moves around on the couch cushions, trying to get comfortable. “My older brother’s last girlfriend came on to me once after a bad fight they had. I was still trying to find a new place, and I was crashing on his couch for a few weeks. I mean, Landon was a shitty boyfriend to her, spent more time working than next to her. She deserved better. They both did.”

  I listen, not judging his story, believing he wouldn’t share such a memory with me for no apparent reason. I watch his partially closed lips as he continues telling his story. “After the last fight, Landon stormed out, calling her ‘bitch this,’ ‘bitch that,’ some nasty things. And I was sitting on the couch, confused as hell on what I was supposed to do. Here was this broken girl with tears streaming down her face. So I moved over to her and held her, feeling her weak body fall against mine.

  “After calming down her wrecked self, I led her to the couch and we talked. About anything but Landon. I tried my best to make her smile, to make her laugh, because I’m almost certain there’s nothing more beautiful than the sound of a woman’s laughter. Then I told her she deserved more for herself and that no one should ever speak to a woman the way Landon spoke to her. I don’t know if I sent her the wrong signals or if she was just so messed up in her head, but she crawled over to me, tried to kiss me. Said I was the brother she always wanted.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I sent her home. I mean, yeah, my brother’s an asshole, and sometimes it’s hard for me to stomach the idea that we’re related, but there’s no way in hell I would mess around with his girl. There are supposed to be rules about this stuff. Ya know? Lines you never cross.”

  “I guess my family never got the memo on those rules.”

  “Mine either. I told Landon, when he got home—how Jasmine had tried to come on to me—and he called me a liar and kicked me out. Said he had a call from Jasmine saying that I hit on her and tried to have sex with her. He believed her over his own brother because ‘that’s what Kayden does.’ He screws chicks and leaves. I didn’t even try to explain the situation to him; his mind was made-up. It was right then that I realized he wasn’t my brother. He never was.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because”—he inhales deeply and exhales slowly—”genetics make you related, but loyalty makes you family. Turns out the only family I have are my mom and my aunt.”

  I laugh. “And your made-up girlfriend, jerk.” He smiles and runs his fingers through his perfect hair, pleased by my comment. I feel terrible for the way I spoke to him earlier, ashamed really. “I didn’t want meaningless sex with you.”

  His lips curve up. “I know, and I didn’t want you to want to have sex with Danny.”

  I nod once. “I know.”

  “Maybe after all of this is over, after I’m not Richard, and you’re more…emotionally stable. Maybe then I can ask you out.” He speaks with such certainty, such truth.

  I laugh again. “It may take me a while to become emotionally stable.”

  He looks at me, his green eyes soft and still a bit puffy from his allergies, and when he turns away to face the ceiling, I follow his gaze, staring up at the ceiling fan that remains still.

  “So what happens next?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I mean, if you’re willing to wait for me, then I can figure out my life. And you can take me to a really nice restaurant maybe. And do you dance? I love to dance. My last boyfriend made me think I loved video games but I despise them. I actually have no clue how to use the damn things and—”

  “Jules?” Twisting my neck in his direction, I wait for him to continue his thought. “I meant what happen
s next with this family trip.”

  “Oh…” Just when I think I cannot embarrass myself any further, I one-up myself. No need to buy blush anymore. These red cheeks come with the territory. “Well, tomorrow for the girls there’s cookie making and hot cocoa—I bring Bailey’s to slip into mine. And for the guys, you go cut down the best trees—yes trees, as in more than one—and then each couple decorates one. The best tree wins a trophy, because clearly, what’s a Stone’ family get-together without awards?”

  “Sounds nice.”

  “It was.” I remember all of the fun years I had with Danny, doing all of those Christmas activities together. Then I think about how different it will be this year, watching him perform those tasks with my sister. But I have Kayden this year; I’ll do my best to make believe with him. “It will be nice.”

  “Jules?” Kayden’s voice comes out as a question, just as it did before I embarrassed myself with my overactive imagination of a world with him in it.

  “Yes?”

  “I love to dance, too. The older music, the better the music. Boys II Men, Hall and Oates, Temptations.”

  My hands fly over my heart, because I’m sure it’s about to zoom out of my chest. “Stop, stop! You had me at Hall and Oates. When Lisa and I were kids, we stayed at this cabin with my grandma whenever Mom and Dad were filming. Grandma would always take us girls to old record stores, and of course I bought Hall and Oates’s second album. I would play it over and over again. It’s perfection. So…okay. Favorite song at the count of three. Don’t think about it, just say. Ready?”

  “Ready.”

  “One…two…three…”

  “She’s Gone!” we both holler, and I toss my hands up with excitement after hearing his reply. “Kayden Reece, I hate to say it, but…I think we just became best friends.”

  “This is the fastest moving, all-over-the-place relationship I’ve ever had. First we are madly in love, and now we are best-friends status. All within ten hours.”

  “There’s only one life to live. Might as well live it up!”

  A silence fills the room and the darkness of the room overtakes me, bringing on a new wave of sleepy thoughts. I close my eyes, thinking that Kayden is on his way to dream, too. Until, of course, I hear him humming the tune of She’s Gone to himself. Then the lyrics follow. His voice is smooth and rich—in every note is a new found lust I have for this ‘co-star’ of mine. I can’t help but join in at the chorus of the song, singing the high parts as he takes on the low in perfect pitch.

  My cheeks are so sore from smiling so big for so long, and I catch a mad case of the giggles as his voice goes deeper and deeper. I never knew I could love Hall and Oates so much more.

  When the sounds of our voices fade out and the stillness of the air summons us to complete silence, I relax against the mattress. I hug my pillow and curve my body away from Kayden after watching his eyes shut. Before I close my eyes, I realize a new personal truth.

  Someday I’ll be fine. Maybe not right here and now, but someday I will be able to look at Danny and not think about all the what-ifs. Someday I won’t feel like the outcast in a world full of lovers. Someday I’ll wake up in a bed, by myself, and be perfectly content with my life.

  Yup. Someday I’ll be fine.

  When I wake up, it’s still pitch-black outside. Turning on my cell, I see that it reads three thirty-four a.m. The snow is falling gently now, the sparkling flakes hitting the edges of the window as if stylishly choreographed in an intricate dance. I look over to the sleeping beauty, watching her body rise and fall. She’s a handful when she’s awake, but she’s flawless and perfect in her sleep.

  Rising from the uncomfortable sofa, I cringe as my scrunched-up body tries to unknot itself. Before assuming a full-upright position, I rub the back of my neck and roll my shoulders a few times to loosen up. I’ll definitely be taking the floor during the next few nights. The couch isn’t cutting it.

  Slipping into a pair of shoes, I grab my coat and a pack of cigarettes and head to the front porch. The cold air momentarily takes my breath away, and for a brief moment, I consider going back inside where it’s nice and warm. Zipping my jacket and pulling up the collar against the frigid air, I cannot help but wonder what I’m doing here, in the middle of nowhere Wisconsin, in the company of Oscar-winning actors. Why did I agree to this in the first place? First of all, I wanted to tell my parents that an agent had signed me, as if that would somehow prove my worth to them as an actor—and as a son. But when I heard the desperate pleading in Jules’s voice as she stood on the chair in the lobby, begging for an actor, I recognized that desperation as my own when Stacey turned me down at the agency.

  I rub my lips together before lighting up the cigarette and inhaling the first hit. That first drag normally brings an intense feeling of relaxation as the smoke fills my lungs; and, exhaling empties me of all tension. Usually, there’s a pleasant buzz—a momentary dizzy feeling—that accompanies each drag, but not this time. I look at the cigarette, and wonder why I hold on to this nasty habit. Why I even started. But whenever the smell of smoke envelops me, whenever I breathe in the scent of smoke that remains embedded in my clothing, I remember her.

  I was seventeen when I first fell in love. It was the last time I fell, too. She was two years older but just as dark, just as broken. We both grew up in homes where we didn’t fit into the family portraits. We were the outcasts, the rejects, the creative types. Penny always believed in better days. She said that someday our acting careers would take off, and we’d show our families how much we didn’t need them to believe in us.

  She was more intense than I was, more…passionate. She was also more damaged, more lost. She wanted more than anything in the world to prove that she wasn’t the negative space her family painted her to be. I wish she had been a little stronger, had a little more fight. There came a point when I realized that all of her passion, all of her bravado, was an act. She did not believe in herself. She saw herself as invisible. How her family portrayed her had become a self-fulfilling prophecy.

  I never thought I would be the one to land the agent, to actually give this acting thing a real run for its money, but look at me now, pretending to be someone’s boyfriend.

  Penny would’ve laughed at this whole situation. Her laugh was contagious, spreading into my bones, infecting my soul. I guess I haven’t quit the cigarettes yet because they remind me of her, her kisses, her scent. Of her sadness.

  I toss the cigarette into the snow, and hear it hiss as the snow melts around its glowing tip. I should let go of the whole smoking thing; yet, there’s this melancholy feeling that when I do, it means I’ll let go of Penny and lose all of my memories of her and of us.

  And I’m not sure if I’m ready to walk away from it all just yet.

  Arriving back in the bedroom, I gaze at the beautiful blonde sleeping in the bed and a part of me wants to forget Penny completely. A part of me wants to move on from my past and get to know Jules. She’s weird, emotionally scarred, and semi-annoying—in the best possible way—but I love those things about her. Love those things? Is that even possible? To love characteristics of a person you don’t even know? The gulf between the couch and the bed mocks me as I crawl into the bed, and wrap my legs and arms around her. What am I doing? And why wasn’t the cigarette enough? Why is it that, on this cold winter night, Jules Stone is the only thing in my mind that can bring me the warmth I’m searching for?

  Gently kissing her ear, I whisper against it. “Sunshine…”

  She shifts in her sleep, but not before relaxing against me, snuggling her curves even deeper into mine. I wonder if she knows I’m this close, if it would scare her. Does it scare me a little? I want her to wake up, roll over, and notice me. I want her to be all right with the fact that I’m this close.

  I kiss her ear again, and she wiggles against the bed sheets and turns toward me. Her sleepy blue eyes slowly open; then open wide, startled with alarm and fear. “Ah!” she screams in shock, sitting up i
n bed and kneeing me in the gut.

  “Ow!” I whine, grabbing my stomach, bending over in a small bit of pain.

  “Oh my gosh!” She shakes her head back and forth, hands over her mouth, trying to dispel her dream state and waken more fully. “Kayden, I’m so sorry! But what the hell are you doing?! Do you sleep-walk?”

  To be honest, I have no clue what the hell I was doing, why I chose to climb into bed with her. Jesus! I probably came off as a fucking psychopath just now. I don’t snuggle, I don’t hold people, and I don’t let people hold me. So why in the hell did I climb into that bed with Jules? And why in the hell did it feel so…right?

  “I’m sorry, it’s just…never mind…I can’t even explain it.”

  With her body turned toward me, all I want to do is kiss her over and over again. She shifts her eyes to the window, noting the darkness, and a yawn escapes her beautiful lips as she lies back down. “Kayden, it’s still sleep time. Go to sleep, Sexdorable.” she breathes out as she closes her eyes, and her smile widens. There’s so much I want to do to her, with her, right at this moment, but I can’t, and it pisses me off.

  “Are you awake?” I mutter, sitting cross-legged on the bed next to her almost motionless body. It takes everything for me to not burst out laughing when I see her eyes reopen with a sassy look of attitude.

  “I’m not nice when I don’t get sleep.”

  “I’m hungry.” Moving over to her, I take her arms and pull her up into a sitting position.

  “I will punch you in your face. No lie, I will fuck you up,” she warns, trying to edge back down to her pillow. I can’t help but laugh at the grump, and pull her up again, holding her against me.

  “Let’s go make something to eat. Seeing how I missed dinner because you almost killed me.”