From The Wreckage - Complete (30 page)

She bites her lip to keep from laughing and tilts her head. Jase slices the air a second time with his ‘Jedi fingers’ and orders her again. “The pizza, please.” Jules notices the slight raise of his brows as he ‘compels’ her with his Jedi power, and suddenly her heart disintegrates to mush at all the cuteness.

She holds the pizzas out to him. “I will give you the pizza,” she says, her voice monotone and mimicking his order.

“It worked!” he cries out; quickly grabbing the boxes from her hands and smiling at West. Her eyes flick from Jase’s excited face to West’s knowing grin and then to her father’s face. His is the one she is most interested in, and for good reason. He looks at West with something akin to admiration now; a slight softening in his stance letting her know West is scoring major points with him. 

She takes a moment to study West. His dark wash jeans are a little tighter than the more casual baggy ones he usually wears. His shirt is plaid.
Plaid, for goodness sake!
her brain yells at her. The plaid shirt is a small checked and striped pattern of blue, gray and black with the shirtsleeves rolled up on his forearms. He wears it unbuttoned over a faded gray tee with the front tucked into his jeans to reveal a silver belt buckle. The only thing Jules recognizes on him are his signature black biker boots. 

Dang, he looks hot!
her brain shouts at her.

Her father breaks her trance when he gives West a small pat on the back as he passes him, leaving the foyer. He gives Jules a smile and reminds her to stop by the kitchen to say goodbye to her mom before they leave. Alone now, West pulls his hand from behind his back and produces a small bunch of flowers. She moves forward and she’s sure her smile is the exact image of Jase’s Cheshire smile as she accepts the small bouquet; taking a long draw of the fresh scent.

“Thank you.” She lets him see her study him. “You look very…what’s the word? Hipster, tonight,” she compliments and he grins with a small shrug.

“I can clean up sometimes.” 

“Well you clean up good, Spike.” She winks. His eyes take on a sparkle and her knees give way. 

Returning the favor, he looks her over with an intimate smile. It warms every inch of her body as he slowly peruses her for his pleasure. She’s tempted to tug on her shirt or pat her hair out of nervousness, but she stands still and lets him have his fill.

“And you look gorgeous, as usual,” he says breathily; his voice soft, like a tender caress across her skin. She leans in and places a kiss on his smooth cheek.

“Thank you. And thank you for taking care of me last night. You’re not such a bad vampire after all,” she whispers playfully. He laughs quietly and shakes his head at her.

“Don’t thank me for taking care of you,” West warns lightly and Jules nods. “We
are
going to talk about it, though.”

“About you taking care of me?” she asks hopefully; plastering a huge cheesy grin on her face.

“Uh, no.”

She takes his hand and escorts him into the kitchen where Jason is still going on about his ‘powers’. Her mom listens intently and nods her head as he demonstrates the hand movement that apparently worked on Jules and got him the pizza boxes. 

She looks up from Jason as Jules and West walk in, and nods a greeting their way. “West.” 

“Hi, Mrs. Blacklin.”

“Where are you two off to?”

Looking at West, Jules arches her brow; ready to hear about their date. “That’s actually a secret, if it’s alright with you?” he comments; his gaze flicking between her parents and ignoring her altogether. 

“There’s severe storms moving in tonight, Jules. You guys could stay here,” Jason reminds her for at least the tenth time today as he takes a bite of his pizza. Her father’s distractions to keep him from the television obviously didn’t work. He saw the Weather Channel at some point and now worries about the storm heading their way.

“It’s just a thunderstorm, bud. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“I think you should stay…”

“Jason sweetie, eat your dinner,” her mom interrupts; her hand resting on his arm as he turns red in the face. “You two better go,” she prompts, and gives Jules a meaningful look.

“Hey man — if Jules, and your parents, are okay with it, maybe I could come hang out with you tomorrow?”

“With me? Really?” His face perks up and he looks at her parents excitedly. “Can he, mom?”

“We’ll be home all day sweetie, but that’s up to your sister.”

“Jules?” he asks pleadingly. West looks at her and mimics Jason’s face; mouthing ‘please’ with a teasing smile.

Jules screws up her face, crosses her arms and pretends to think it through. “Let’s see how West does on this date and if I still like him, he can come over.”

“Challenge accepted,” West says with a smile. 

Her parents maintain polite smiles as Jason whoops and jumps up to give her a hug. Jules jumps back to catch his arms. “Watch those pizza hands, bud.”

Jason turns to West and says with a serious tone, “I hope you have a good date planned. She’s picky.”

His comment brings laughs from everyone but Jules, who frowns and pushes her brother’s head. “Traitor.”

Taking Jules’ hand with a smile, West kneels down and whispers to Jason, “Don’t worry; I’ve got this.”

They walk into the coffee house, shaking raindrops from their clothes, and are happy to find the place pretty empty. Most people frequent the local Starbucks these days, but ‘The Coffeehouse’, as this place is called, is a cool, kind of grungy, hip place. The blue-gray, two story building is an old house with uneven wood floors and creaking steps leading upstairs. There are booths in a room to the side downstairs, and several chairs and couches upstairs in the two rooms open to the public. The same friendly, tattooed servers work here all the time, and they make small talk with Jules and West as they go about making simple flavored coffees for them.

West’s face finally relaxes when they take a seat on a couch in the dimly lit room upstairs, but he sends a frown her way. “Sorry…our date isn’t what I had planned.”

Bending her leg beneath her, she turns to him so that their knees are touching. “I’m with you. It’s perfect.”

“You’re perfect.” He pins her with his melting gaze. They lean toward each other slowly as if a gravitational pull is drawing them closer and closer to each other. He lifts his hand to smooth her hair, but pulls back and shakes his head. “Talking. We are going to talk.”

She lets out an indelicate snort and sits back in defeat, and West laughs at her. 

“And
this
is why I changed my mind about going back to my house so quickly. You know I’d like to kiss you all night, but then we’d never get anywhere.” He explains, and her brows wag suggestively at his remark. He grins. “Okay, we’d probably get
somewhere
. But not where we need to be; not right now.” 

“You’re so wise.”

“Right? So here’s the deal. My plan for us tonight was to pretend like this was a normal first date. I wanted us to talk about first date stuff and get to know each other.”

“Love it!” she agrees excitedly. “So should I ask you your favorite color?”

“It’s black, and actually, I want to talk about something we talked about while we were in the Grier house.”

It’s not lost on her the way West has started calling the house by its name and stopped referring to their time spent there as ‘being trapped’. It makes it sound as if they were on vacation together, instead of the scary reality. 

“Wait — you said we just met,” she points out.

“Close enough. Don’t be difficult, Ms. Picky.”

“Ohhh, really? First, I am not picky.” She laughs and slaps his arm. “You shouldn’t take dating advice from my little brother. Second, I’m just pointing out the obvious. If we just met, then we couldn’t have spent time together in the Grier house. Third, black is your favorite color? Can we talk about that for a minute?” 

Crossing his arms, his head drops low as he mutters, “You’re being difficult.” 

He’s playing at being annoyed with her, so she laughs at him. “Alright, alright, no sulking. What did we talk about?”

He remains quiet for a moment, which makes Jules think he’s going to continue to play being mad before he finally speaks. “We talked about our bucket lists. Do you remember that?”

“Bucket lists? Nope.”

“Well let’s talk about them. See if you can recall yours.”

“Wait, are you saying you think I made mine up on the fly?” 

“I don’t know, maybe you were making them up as we went along. You said some pretty strange things that night.”

“I had a concussion and thought we were going to die…give me a break!” she points out.

“Touché’. So tell me something on your bucket list.”

Taking a sip of her caramel flavored coffee, Jules stops to think. She’s had a bucket list for a while now, and it contains all the things she plans on doing someday. Surely she told West the things most in her heart. “I want to see a Broadway show.”

He nods and gives her a bright smile. “Why do you want to see a Broadway show?”

“Why?”

“Yeah. Every time I told you an item on my list, you asked me why. You said it wasn’t good enough to want something; I had to have a reason.”

Jules ducks her head with a sigh and repositions her legs beneath her body to get more comfortable. “I can’t believe I said that. Or maybe I can,” she muses; trying to explain her reasoning for saying it. “My parents have always told me to form reasons.” 

“Form reasons?”

“Yeah. They’ve always said when you want something in life you need a reason for wanting it, or else you’ll give up when it gets too hard. That a person with motive and reason will work harder than someone who’s just trying something on a whim.”

“That’s pretty damn insightful. Motive and reason, huh? Are you’re sure you didn’t pick that up on an episode of ‘Law and Order’?” 

Jules laughs as thunder rumbles outside and rattles the old house. The deep vibrations trigger her memory from that night; the sound of a twister hell bent on destruction, shaking everything in its path. Cracks of lightning, followed by the encores of more thunder only serve to remind her of the house falling all around them. The snapping of wood, the uneasy groan from a pile of debris shifting over her head. She closes her eyes briefly and shudders at the recollection.

West touches the hand resting in her lap and the cushion below her shifts as he moves closer. She opens her eyes to find his face inches from her own, his brows furrowed over his golden eyes. 

“Those sounds,” she whispers; flipping her hand over under his and interlocking their fingers. Her eyes dart around the room as it shakes from another round of thunder; much like a child trembles in fear. “They remind me of that night. Sorry.”

“Sorry? Don’t apologize to me. Every time my house creaks, I flinch,” he counters. He pulls her head to his shoulder, wraps his arm around her shoulder and props his shoes on the coffee table in front of them. “So, where were we? Why do you want to see a Broadway show?”

“I love musicals?”

“Um, is that an answer or a question?” he teases.

“Half-answer, half-evasion,” she admits. She rubs her cheek against his shoulder and hopes the gesture will make him forget his line of questioning.

She falters when deep rumbling comes from him. “You think playing coy and cozying up to me is going to work, Buffy?” His hand weaves into her hair and pulls her away from his body gently until she looks up at him. He leans down and places a quick, sweet kiss to her lips; his smile already beaming as he pulls away. Jules slides her hand over his shoulder and presses into the back of his neck as she tries to pull his face back to hers; her blue eyes flirting with his. “No playing dirty,” he orders. 

She drops her hand with a pout. “Fine. I told the truth, though…I love musicals. I used to dance and sing around my house all day every day as a little girl. I’d put on mock performances for my parents. I love to sing.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“So a Broadway show, because you want to be up there someday yourself?”

A peal of laughter escapes her at the thought. “Lord, no!”

“No? Why not? You were made to be in the spotlight.” Her mouth drops open at his compliment. 

“That’s a good pick-up line.” She nods with a wink; giving him credit where credit is due.

“I don’t plan on having to resort to pick-up lines anymore,” he replies tenderly, and brushes the back of his hand lightly over her cheek. “And I wasn’t kidding. You have this light about you — you always have — when you’re performing. I could see you being on stage.”

“I’m a cheerleader, not an actress.” She leans back against the couch again with a shrug. The occasional clap of thunder rattles the windows of the coffee shop, but with West at her side she feels less anxious. He removes his arm as she sits back, and shakes his head in disagreement to her comment.

“You are a performer. Didn’t you sing in choir back in middle school?” She nods in confirmation. “You sang a solo once, at the seventh grade year-end banquet.”

“You remember that?” 

“You’re looking at me like you’re shocked. Does it freak you out that I remember?” 

She wipes her face clear of all emotions and looks at West. She’s not freaked out as much as amazed. Then the memory of their kiss at that pool party resurfaces, and suddenly it doesn’t really surprise her. They seem to have a connection that’s larger than two teenagers who fall for each other because of mutual attraction.
Fate?
she wonders, although she hesitates to say the word out loud. He stares at her in silence and waits for an answer.

With a flippant smile, she teases him, “So if I looked up my biggest followers on Facebook back in seventh grade, is your picture going to pop up?”

“Of course! And don’t go in my closet or you’ll find my secret shrine to you, too.”

“And now I want to see your room!” she declares and their laughter echoes in the empty room.

Her phone vibrates in her back pocket and she pulls it out to see who’s calling.

“It’s home,” she explains, and answers the line with an apprehensive, ‘Hello?’

“Jules?” her brother’s quivering voice whispers into the phone line.

The scared tone surprises her for a moment. “Jase? What is it bud?” she asks; sending West a confused look.

“I just…are you okay?”

She expels a heavy sigh and her heart breaks at his worry. “Do mom and dad know you’re calling me?”

“No, we’re having a bathroom break. It’s storming really hard…will you come home?”

“Awww…bud, I’m not coming home right now. I’m safe indoors.” 

Motioning his way, West reaches for the phone and takes it from Jules’ hand. She listens with curiosity as he speaks to her brother. 

“Hey man, is it raining really hard at your house?”

West nods as Jason talks. She can barely hear his little mumbles. “No, she’s still right here. Yes…You know what? I promise you I will take good care of her.” Tears fill her eyes as she listens to West; his deep voice reassuring and strong. She remembers
that
voice from the night of the twister, even if she still can’t recall all of his words. “I promise…I would never let anything happen to your sister, okay? K, see you tomorrow.”

“Where did you come from, West Rutledge?” she asks when he lowers the phone.

His face draws up in question. “What?”

“What? Oh my gosh — that was the sweetest thing ever. You continue to astound me every time I’m with you.”

“Well as long as that’s a good thing, I’m cool.”

She nods and inches his way, placing a small kiss on his cheek while whispering, “That’s a very good thing.”

West wraps a hand around her head as he turns towards her and kisses her full on the lips this time; the cell phone forgotten somewhere on the couch between them. The sound of people making their way up the stairs pulls them from one hot, extremely long and enjoyable kiss. Her heart races, but she smiles when she rests her palm on his chest and feels his heartbeat matching the timing of hers. They pull away from one another when a new couple walks in, sending them an apologetic smile. They sit in two chairs at the opposite corner of the room; their muted voices almost drowned out completely by the mellow, ambient music piping into the room. 

“Bucket list,” West prods a little breathlessly.

She sinks back and touches her swollen lips. “Um, I think I can mark off ‘Be kissed thoroughly’ now.”

“That’s just the beginning. I can be much more thorough,” he promises and her abdomen leaps; the desire his statement elicits in her body, immediate.

Jules takes a shaky breath as their eyes stay locked on each other. The heavy rain pounding on the windows, with its staccato beat drumming down on the roof, mixed with the rumble of thunder and snaps of lightning provide a romantic backdrop, yet all Jules can focus on are the lips in front of her and the racing of her pulse. Wary of the effect he’s having on her, especially in a public place, she withdraws from his stare.

“So,” she starts; her voice unnaturally loud in the moment. “What’s an item from your bucket list?”

“To kiss you thoroughly,” he replies without hesitation.

“West!”

He rolls his brown eyes and his signature sly grin stretches across his face; tempting Jules to give in to kissing him again. 

“Alright. I want to live.” His face shows how serious he is and Jules waits for an explanation. “I can see you’re confused by that. You always suck your lips in and crease your eyebrows when you’re confused,” he points out.

“I do?” Her finger touches her forehead absently. 

“It’s adorable.”

She sighs. “You’re being awfully charming tonight.” 

“Charming enough for another kiss?” he asks and leans forward again.

Raising her arm, she presses her palm to his chest with a shake of her head. “You’ll get another kiss, but not right now,” she says meaningfully and shifts her eyes to the other couple. “Explain what you meant. You want to live?”

“Yeah, I want to live.
Really
live. That’s the whole list — living.” His fingers go to the cuff of his shirt; fiddling with it as he adjusts his position on the couch. “I want to do the things I want and not be afraid. I want to drive fast and love hard. To swim with sharks and jump out of planes. To live every moment of this life we are given. Backpack through Europe, surf in Australia, drink from coconuts in Hawaii.”