Family Ties (33 page)

CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN

“Can I help with something?” I ask, joining him in the kitchen.

“Nope. I can’t call it ‘slaving over the stove’ if you help me.” 

I lean against the counter and watch him turn the burner on under a large skillet. He opens the fridge and takes out eggs, bacon, parsley, and a block of hard cheese.

“Breakfast for dinner?”

“Nope.” He snickers and turns on the burner under a large stockpot of water. He adds bacon to the skillet and steps over to the sink to wash his hands.

“You’re not going to tell me?”

He dries his hands on a towel. “Nope.”

He steps in front of me and lifts me onto the counter by my waist. He steps between my legs and moves in for a kiss as his arms encircle me. I wind my arms around his neck and bring him in closer.

“Mmmm,” he intones. “Counters. I like this.” He slides a hand under my blouse and up my back as he places light kisses across my cheek to behind my ear. His tongue lingers right behind my earlobe.

My body shudders and melts into him. “Ah, J.” I run my fingers through his hair.

He whispers, “I would love to take you right here.”

The idea of it sends waves of pleasure through me.

He breaks away and steps back. I am near forming a pout until he turns off the burners. He sweeps me off the counter and carries me to his room.

Jason jumps in his seat and drops his fork twined with spaghetti alla carbonara. His hand jerks to his cargo pocket, taking out his phone. He glances at the screen and passes it to me. “Arissa.” 

I take it. “Riss? What’s going on?”

“We were wondering if you wanted to go dress shopping this weekend.”

“Hang on a sec.” I cover the mouthpiece with my hand. “Riss and Mom want to go dress shopping this weekend.”

“That sounds good to me.”

“We were going to look for apartments, remember?”

“Oh, right.” He pauses. “What about dress shopping Friday after work? We can drive up Saturday morning.”

I bring the phone back up to my face. “Sure, Riss. Is after work Friday okay?”

“Okay, we’ll make some appointments.” 

“See you.” I pass the phone back to Jason. “Prepare yourself.”

He pockets the phone. “We need to get you a phone.”

“Why? I’ve done fine without a cell phone.”

“You might change your mind once we’re married, in our own place, and I’m not around for you to use mine.” He smirks.

“I might. Until I change my mind, I think we can use all the money I’ve saved for the wedding and getting an apartment.”

He shakes his head as he chews.

“What?”

He swallows. “Dad had money stashed away in a trust account on top of his life insurance. Mom is giving me some.”

My jaw drops. He swoops in for a kiss. I return it eagerly, then break away.

“Were you going to tell me this at all?” I ask, upset that he kept a secret.

“We just found out today. It’s enough for Mom to pay off the house.”

So it wasn’t a secret, but the thought of Alana giving away her money is uncomfortable when she works so hard to take care of everyone else. “Then she should do that.” I push my food absently around my plate with my fork.

“That’s what I told her. She’s insistent on giving me some of it.”

“Your mom is something else.”

“We can use some for the wedding and the apartment until you find work. If you decide to go to school, you’ll have tuition. The rest we won’t touch unless necessary.”

“If I go to school, I’ll look for a scholarship or something. I can’t use your money.”

“Parker, it’s going to be
our
money.”

Ours. His and mine. It’s a difficult concept to get used to.

We clean up the food and dishes before settling in the TV room and our shortened stack of magazines.

We go through two magazines after dinner, tearing ideas out as we see them and adding them to the organizer Arissa made for us. She started it with the magazines I gave her Monday and presented it to me last night.

After we set the magazines aside, we check out apartments around UCLA on Jason’s laptop and make a list. “I’ll call them tomorrow and check on seeing some of them Saturday,” he says, shutting down the laptop.

“You’re the best.” I kiss him on the cheek.

He gives me his crooked grin and pulls me in for a longer, passion-filled kiss.

“I should get you home,” he says with a sigh, releasing me from his embrace.

“Hey,” I say, stroking his jaw. “We’re moving forward. Pretty soon you won’t have to take me home. We’ll be home together.”

His crooked grin morphs into an infectious bright smile.

CHAPTER SEVENTY-EIGHT

I climb into the car and Jason closes the door. He digs into his pocket before getting in. He takes my hand, slips my engagement ring on, and entwines our fingers.

“You didn’t tell me you were picking it up today.”

“Surprise.” He smiles as he starts the car.

“Are you sure you don’t want to just drop me off? Mom and Arissa can take me home.” 

“There is no way I’m letting you out of my sight. I’ve been waiting to see you all day.”

Mom, Arissa, and Hunter are waiting for us when we arrive at the boutique. 

“This is highly unusual,” the stiff-coiffed woman at the bridal boutique protests, keeping her eyes on Jason and Hunter.

“We can take our business elsewhere,” I say, spinning around.

“No!” She collects herself in a beat. “I just said it is highly unusual. We don’t have any grooms, or men for that matter, coming in here with the brides.”

“Well, get used to it,” Arissa tells her brusquely.

“Ms. Stiffy,” I whisper to Arissa. She snorts, despite her attempt to remain composed.

Ms. Stiffy leads us to a dressing area with copious seating for large bridal parties and a wall with angled mirrors. A stand takes up space in front of the mirrors and two large dressing rooms are built into the side wall.

I tell her what I like in dress styles and my size, then she leaves the room for a few minutes. She returns with a tray holding a teapot and teacups on saucers.

“I’ll be right back with some dresses for you to try on.”

Mom pours tea for all of us. Jason crosses his legs and holds his cup with a raised pinky while Hunter slurps his tea. Ms. Stiffy returns with a rack of gowns amidst uproarious laughter.

The rack is full of Vera Wang, Oleg Cassini, Monique Lhuillier, and Jessica McClintock. I decide which ones I want to try on. Ms. Stiffy hangs the first in one of the dressing rooms and the rest on another rack in the dressing area, carting away the cast-offs.

One by one, I don the dresses and Jason takes pictures of me on his phone. I stand in front of the mirror in the last dress — a monstrosity of tulle, organza, and lace. It looked better on the rack.

“Any of them call to you?” Mom asks.

“Not really.”

“I pull more out for you,” Ms. Stiffy offers.

“Thank you, but I think we’re all a little hungry,” I respond. “Help me out of this, Riss?” I ask, stepping off the stand.

She follows me into the dressing room. “Dad’s in charge of dinner. What do you think will be waiting for us when we get home?” she asks, unbuttoning the back.

I glance at her over my shoulder and smirk.

“Pizza!” we chorus.

Jason holds my hand as we walk back to the cars and Hunter walks on the other side of me.

“Are you coming with us or are you going home?” I ask Jason.

“I should spend—” He stops himself. “Mom’s working. I’ll go home with you. I won’t stay long, though. I need to pack.”

“Mom!” I call to her and Arissa.

She turns around. “Yes, sweetie?” 

“Is it okay if Jason joins us for dinner?”

“Sure. I’ll call Dad and let him know. Hunter, would you like to join us?”

“I’d love to,” he answers.

“What’s for dinner?” Jason asks.

I snicker. “Riss and I are betting on pizza.”

CHAPTER SEVENTY-NINE

Jason and I reach campus mid-morning and unload his car. His roommates are still asleep, so we leave everything in the living room and head out for our appointments.

After seeing four apartments, we review our choices over lunch.

“I like the one on Levering Avenue,” I say, then bite into my ham sandwich.

“The studio? It’s a bit small, Parker.”

“How much room do we need? Right now, we’d only be consolidating what we have in our rooms at home. Besides, it’s the closest to campus. I can walk to your games.” I smile.

“You’re right,” he concedes. “But you’re not walking to the games alone in the dark. You’ll use my car. I can walk to school and you can use the car for work.”

“Only if I can’t find anything nearby. It’s your car.”

He takes my hand. “It’s going to be your car too. That kind of thing happens when you get married, remember?”

“True.” I’m still getting used to the idea of
ours
. It might be easier once we have an apartment to call our own. “Hey, I forgot to ask before. Do your roommates know I’m spending the night?” 

“Yeah. I called them the other day to make sure they were okay with it.”

His roommates are out when we return to the dorm, so we take advantage of the quiet and work on the application for the apartment.

“We’re baaaaaack!” one of them calls out, throwing the door open while we’re watching a football game.

Jason’s arm is around me and I’m snuggling into him.

“Hey, guys,” Jason greets them.

I lift my head. The first one through the front door is tall and lanky blond with a buzz cut. The arms of his white t-shirt are cut off and baggy, blue basketball shorts hang on him. The guy behind him is tall and burly with his ginger hair cut in short layers. His worn gray t-shirt and jeans hug his body. The last one has shaggy blond hair in a styled mess and is wearing a blue UCLA Basketball t-shirt and gray basketball shorts.

“Sara, this is Derek, Tommy, and Chad,” he says, gesturing to them in order as the last one, Chad, closes the door. “Guys, this is Sara.”

“Hey, Sara.” Derek steps over and shakes my hand.

“Jason never shuts up about you,” Tommy says, clasping my hand next.

“Don’t listen to Tommy,” Chad says, taking his turn. “Jason shuts up when he’s sleeping.” He chuckles.

“Thanks a lot, guys,” Jason says, amused and annoyed at the same time.

“Let me guess. You guys are on the team with Jason,” I say jokingly.

“You better keep her, J,” Derek states. “She’s smart and will keep you out of trouble.” 

“Thanks, man. I
am
keeping her,” Jason retorts, flashing my left hand.

“Congrats!” they exclaim in stereo, trading fist bumps with Jason.

“Thanks, guys,” he says.

They each grab a soda from the mini-fridge and sit down.

“So how did you guys meet anyway?” Chad asks, popping a soda can open.

“She and her best friend were putting down cafeteria food and I tried to get Parker to try it. She said it was only good for a food fight.”

“Spunky too, I see,” Tommy quips.

“When necessary,” I say.

Derek chortles. “J, you need to bring her around more often.”

“She will be. She’s moving up here as soon as we have a place.”

“J, the rest of the guys want to come over tonight to meet Sara. Is that cool?” Tommy asks.

Jason looks at me. “Do you want to meet the rest of team?”

I shrug. “Fine with me.” 

“I’m going to sleep out here tonight,” Tommy says. “You two can have the room to yourself.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I don’t have to. I want to. I know how much he misses you during the week.” He winks at me.

My cheeks flush at the obvious hint. There is no way I’m having sex with Jason with his roommates here. No way.

“Thanks, man,” Jason says to him. “So when is everyone coming over?”

“About an hour,” Derek answers. “We’re going to run to the store. Do you two want anything?” 

“As long as we have enough soda, I’m good,” Jason answers.

The guys return with a cooler full of soda on ice and several bags of tortilla chips and salsa. They bring their chairs out from their rooms for more seating.

The rest of the team arrives together. Two of them bring in a keg and set it next to the cooler. Jason and I stand in front of the room he shares with Tommy. 

“Okay everyone,” Tommy calls out. “Introduce yourselves to Sara.”

The shortest one with the beginnings of an afro and wearing a black tank and white warm up jacket with black denim shorts raises his hand. “Troy.”

The tall muscular one to his right with a fade cut, red Hawaiian shirt, and khaki shorts. “Deshawn.”

I lose track of them as they go faster.

“Kiernan.”

“Andre.”

“Garth.”

“Peter.”

“Swensen.”

“Jimmy.”

“Hi, guys.” I smile.

“Before we tap the keg, we have something special,” Tommy announces as Chad opens up the cooler and pulls out two bottles of champagne. Derek and Chad each open a bottle as Tommy passes out cups. Derek and Chad make a round pouring out the champagne.

“You didn’t have to do this, guys,” Jason says, embarrassed.

“Hey, you only get married once. Right?” Derek asks.

“I hope so,” Jason answers, drawing me close and kissing the top of my head.

Uncomfortable is an understatement for me right now. I’m in a small room full of strangers. While they’re all friendly and truly seem to want to get to know me, the old anxiety returns and I strain against the urge to rock back and forth. I end up tapping the pad of my index finger against my cup. Noiseless and unobtrusive.

Chad stands on a chair and raises his cup. “Jason and Sara, may you have a long and happy life together. And Sara,” he says, making eye contact with me and grinning, “may you
always
keep J in line.”

Laughter fills the room and we raise our cups. “Here, here!”

I take a sip along with the team. A sweet bite with tiny bubbles hit my tongue.

I catch Jason watching my index finger. “Do you need to get out of here?” he whispers in my ear.

“No, I need to work on this if I’m moving up here,” I answer in a murmur.

Tommy changes the TV to the UCLA football game. Half the guys gather around him and the TV.

“Do you watch football, Sara?” Peter asks. He is lanky and his short, black hair is styled forward with spiking on top.

“Yeah. My sister’s boyfriend was on our high school team. We went to the games together.” 

“Cool. So I guess you went to J’s games.” 

“Yes.” I nod and force a smile.

“And you’re moving up here?”

“As soon as we find a place,” I confirm.

“Great. We’ll see you at the games.”

“Definitely.”

Kiernan joins us and tells us a story about a prank he pulled on his roommate with a cafeteria tray. Loud voices come from outside the propped open door in the middle of Kiernan’s story. I try to peer through the crowd to see, but tall basketball players block my view.

“Shit,” Jason mutters. He turns to me, “Get in the bedroom and close the door.”

“Why?”

“Please. Just get in there,” he orders, pushing me towards the room.

“J,” I say, resisting. “What is going on?”

“Parker, get in the room and stop asking questions,” he commands.

His tone is utterly unlike him and reminiscent of Simon that the anxiety is replaced by ire in a snap. I glare at him, ready to spit nails.

“Please,” he pleads.

I close the door and lie on his bed staring at the ceiling. The yelling goes on for several minutes then the front door slams and the guys yell, “Whoa!”

Jason pokes his head in. “It’s safe now.”

“Explain,” I demand.

He sits next to me. “I thought it was that girl I told you about, trying to cause a scene. I didn’t want her to come after you if she saw you.” 

I sit up. “Is she really that crazy?” 

“I don’t know. But, she still won’t leave me alone. I was trying to keep you safe.”

“Why didn’t you just say so?”

“Because things happen quick around here. One minute, a drunken person is yelling. The next, things are being thrown and broken. I didn’t want you getting caught in the middle given everything you’ve been through.”

“So what happened out there?”

“Some drunk guy looking for his girlfriend and insisted she was in here. Derek called campus security, but the guy slammed the door and took off.”

“You know, your tone reminded me of Simon.”

“I’m sorry, Parker.” He takes my face in his hands and his soft lips skim mine. “I didn’t mean to, but you were being stubborn. I just wanted to make sure you were safe. A few weeks ago, someone broke a window with a chair they threw at a party. She just picked up the chair and there went the window.” He stands, holding his hand out to me. “We left the door closed so it’s a little cramped.” 

I take his hand and follow him out.

“Sara!” they call out and raise their drinks.