Making Her Wait Page 3

  I walk away from her, into the dining room, letting my finger run over the spine of some textbooks. There’s a laptop open on the table, a printer nearby. “Someone taking college classes?

  “Callie.”

  Running my eyes over the wall space again, I finally find what I’m looking for. A framed family photo.

  It’s an old picture, Genny looks like she’s sixteen or seventeen. The middle child, a brother she hasn’t mentioned, looks like he’s about twelve, and the youngest, who I’m assuming is Callie, is even younger. Both girls favor their mom, with brown hair, green eyes and high cheek bones. Her brother has brown eyes and an angular nose that I really hope he grew into.

  After studying the picture for much longer than is necessary, I ask over my shoulder, “Is this your parents’ house?”

  “My parents are dead.”

  Her voice is flat and heavy. I hope it wasn’t recent, but I don’t offer the standard I’m sorry. I didn’t ask if her parents were alive, I asked if this was their house. The random information she just gave me doesn’t answer my question.

  “You can go,” she tells me, and I turn around to look at her. Her arms are crossed on the counter in front of her, her head resting on them. She’s in the same spot she sank into when she found out her sister went out and didn’t take her phone, staring at nothing in particular.

  There’s no way I can leave her right now and still feel like a decent human being.

  Unless she wants me to. Then it’s the right thing to do, whether I want to leave her or not.

  “Do you want me to go? I will, but I don’t have anywhere I need to be right now.”

  She chews on her bottom lip, sitting up slowly, those wide, unfocused eyes swinging in my direction. I tear my gaze away, looking anywhere except at those lips I want so badly to taste.

  “You can stay, I guess,” she finally answers, shrugging her shoulders. “What were you doing at the park?”

  I place my hand lightly on her back as I sit in the stool next to her. I tell myself it’s so she knows I’m here, but I really just want another excuse to touch her. Watching her face, I tell her about my sister and my nephews, and our weekly dates at the park or, if the weather’s uncooperative, at my sister’s house. She laughs when I tell her about how Zeke tackled a little girl on the slide. She told him he needed to kiss her if he wanted to use it. Zeke hates kisses. The little girl didn’t get one, but they both went down the slide, fighting, until they landed on the ground.

  Genny’s vision is slowly come back to her. I continue telling her stories about Zeke and Finn, but I’m fascinated at the way she’s looking around, testing out exactly how much she can see. It’s frustrating her to no end that it’s not coming back as fast as it left her. She studies my face, the way my mouth is moving, the way my eyes watch her.

  It only makes me want to kiss her.

  Reaching out, she gently places her hand on the left side of my jaw, explaining, “This is the only place I can’t see right now.”

  My lips tip into a smile under her fingers. “You just want to touch me.”

  “I like to touch.”

  Her words shock me into remembering that she’s one of Chad’s girls. Touch is what they do. They touch and feel. They don’t get to know each other. There’s no connection. Nothing real between them except sweat and skin.

  And hopefully, a condom.

  How could I have forgotten that in the very little time I’ve spent with her?

  After unwrapping her sub and offering me some, she takes the first bite and lets out a heartfelt moan. I wonder if she would ever let Chad see her like this. If, when she said she liked to touch, there was any way she meant me, and not just in general.

  In between bites, she explains a little bit about her migraines, telling me that stress or her hormones trigger one, and she had a really stressful, crappy day. After calling off work for the next day, she explains that she’s out of her pills because the pharmacy was only accepting cash and she doesn’t carry any. She tells me about the people that were in line ahead of her, her descriptions making me laugh, which, in turn, makes her eyes light up.

  “How was the rest of your day really stressful?” I ask, wanting to hear her describe every other thing she did. She has an interesting way of explaining things, and I want to keep her talking.

  I also don’t want her to think I’m not interested and kick me out.

  Not that I am interested… I just like watching her, listening to her, touching her, her touching me. And I really want to kiss her.

  “It’s probably not a great idea for me to tell you about the rest of my day,” she tells me, balling up her sub wrapper and tossing it into the garbage. “You seem like a nice guy, Walker Kelley. But you’re already judging me because of how I know Chad. I don’t need to add any fuel to that fire.”

  “I’m not judging you.”

  Although I am wondering, how does telling me about her day add more fuel to that fire?

  Flashing me a wide grin that clearly says she knows I’m lying, she informs me, “You’re cute, Walker.”

  I don’t want to be cute. Not to her.

  I look away, so she can’t see even more of whatever I’m thinking on my face. “Wanna play Jenga?” I ask, seeing pieces scattered all over her coffee table. “I have a feeling with your numb hands, I might win.”

  “Also, not a good idea. That’s my sister’s adult version of truth-or-dare Jenga.”

  “Can’t be that bad, can it?”

  Moving to the coffee table, Genny picks up two wooden pieces. “Truth or dare?”

  I go for truth, thinking it will keep us talking.

  She reads the question, then watches me with an arched eyebrow and a look that dares me to answer. “What’s the weirdest thing you’ve thought about while masturbating?”

  There’s no way I’m going there with her.

  “I’ve never played,” she insists, collecting the pieces and organizing them in their box. “But Callie loves telling me about it. Her least favorite rule is if you knock over the tower without it going around the entire group at least once, you have to lick the left nipple of everyone playing.”

  I swallow hard at the mental images playing out in my head. “Why haven’t you played?”

  “I’m a clutz... And if I’m licking nipples, I’d rather it not be another girl’s.”

  “It sounds like it would be damn fun to watch you play,” I mutter under my breath. I can’t remember the last time I played a drinking game, but if I’m playing with Genny, I think I’d really enjoy myself.

  “What was that?” She cocks her head to the side, wondering what I said so low there was no way she could hear me.

  “Sounds like it would be fun to watch. You should let me know the next time your sister plays.”

  She gives me a thoughtful expression. “I don’t want you watching my little sister play that game. Besides, I would need your number to tell you anything that happens after you leave.”

  Screw it, I think, knowing there’s no backing out now. “I’m offering you my number, Genny. And it has nothing to do with wanting to see your sister.”

  She thinks it over, narrowing her eyes as she bites that damn lip. I force my eyes away from her mouth, wondering if I have any idea what I’m doing. I’m playing with fire. There’s no way I’m not going to get hurt if I keep this up. But there’s also no way I could willingly stop right now, either.

  “This is gonna end badly. I want that on record now.”

  Chuckling at her train of thought, which was pretty close to my own, I reason, “According to you, I know too much about your personal life for you to hook up with me. I’m guessing if I ask, you won’t date me…”

  “I don’t date.”

  As I expected. “The only option we have left is to just be friends. How can it end badly if we’re just friends?”

  This is going to end disastrously.

  I’m still pushing forward, and so far, she isn’t saying no. I
don’ t understand why I want her number in my phone, but I do l, without a doubt. And I want my number in hers. I want her to think about me, late at night, while she texts me. Because she will text me. And I’ll tell her I want to just hang out when I ask her to spend some time with me this weekend.

  Genny and I will never be just friends.

  But if that’s what she wants to hear, I’ll lie to her.

  Sliding her phone out of her pocket, she tosses it at me, watching my every move. She doesn’t need to tell me her passcode again, and I quickly enter my info under her contacts, before calling myself, so I have her number as well. I step in close to her, handing it back, enjoying the smirk that’s working its way onto her lips.

  “How do you spell your name, Genny?”

  Those eyes open wide again, but they can see. She stares at me in shock, spelling it out for me.

  “Genny with a G?” I confirm quietly from right in front of her, the whisper adding to the tension surrounding us. She swallows as she nods.

  “Yeah. How did you know it would be weird?”

  I type out my answer, sending it to her, watching her laugh as she reads my name on her phone. “Just Friends Walker Kelley?”

  “That’s me,” I answer, smiling right back at her.

  She absentmindedly rubs her calf with the opposite foot, and it makes me remember why we’re here. Some really weird shit she goes through before she gets a migraine. What did she call it? Migraine with… something. I’m gonna have to look it up later.

  “I don’t want to kick you out, Just Friend Walker, but my head is starting to hurt. You won’t be offended if I ask you to leave, right? Since we’re just friends and all…”

  “Not at all,” I tell her honestly. I’m not offended. But the just friends part is bullshit.

  “I probably have a date that I’ll tell you all about the next time I see you,” I offer, wanting to see her reaction. “Since we’re just friends.”

  She laughs, but not like she did before. It’s not with her whole body and it doesn’t reach her eyes. “You do that, Walker. And I’ll tell you all about my bed-hopping adventures the next time I see you.”

  Fair play, but come on! Reminding me that she’s casual about sex and relationships is the last thing I want to hear. Knowing she’s watching me, I turn around to look at her one last time as I reach her door. Her teeth are on her bottom lip again, and I drag my eyes up to hers, so I don’t give in and prove us both wrong already. “If we weren’t just friends, I’d kiss you right now.”

  “Trying to prove you’re serious about this just friends thing?” she asks, narrowing her eyes, even as she leans toward me. Almost like she wants that kiss as badly as I do.

  “Yes.” Even if we’re both deluding ourselves. Staring in her eyes, at the mischief dancing in those green orbs, I add, “Is it working?”

  “Not even for a second.”

  Her eyes dart down to my mouth, then back up to my eyes. We both want that kiss. But my standards are higher than hers, so I’m going to have to be the one to keep my word. The second I realize that, she reaches out, her hand landing on my jaw once again. Her eyes light up with a fire burning somewhere deep inside her, making it even harder to walk away.

  I walk away anyway.

  I won’t go back on what I said.

  At least not yet.

  Not until she begs me for it.

  Genny

  It’s Friday evening when I come back to the land of normally functioning human beings.

  Callie pieced everything together at some point, went to pick up my pills, and delivered them to the darkness of my room as I attempted to sleep away my migraine. I remember her shaking me awake and handing me a pill and a water bottle, but that’s all.

  Waking up on my own a couple hours later, I stand under the hot spray of a much-needed shower, thinking about everything that led up to this moment. I’ll have to talk to my boss about missing work today. I’ll have to thank Callie. I’ll have to figure out my bills and find out if I can pay any of that ticket after getting a new battery for my car and getting caught up on my insurance at the very least. I’ll also have to find someone to help me get my car, change the battery, and switch out my flat for the spare.

  Which leads my mind directly to Walker Kelley…

  Overall, I had a very interesting experience with him.

  I’d really prefer to experience him without an oncoming migraine next time.

  My head is screaming that that’s a very bad idea.

  We’re going to ruin each other. I can feel it. We can say just friends all we want. We can try to be just friends all we want. In the end, it won’t matter. He’ll be a very good friend. Right up until the moment when he breaks my heart and makes me hate him.

  I don’t need another break up like I had with Paul.

  My mind stills tries to come up with a way to make it work. The experiencing him part, not the just friends part. If I spend time with Walker, I’ll try to have sex with him. He’s hot, sweet, kind. He’s not at all my normal type, but there’s something about him that makes me want him all the same.

  Speaking of friends, or sex, or whatever you want to call it, Walker knows why I see Chad. Walker isn’t the type of guy to do casual sex, though I’ll do my best to wear him down given the chance. Since he was so determined to give me his number, why didn’t he try to get me to stop seeing his roommate?

  Maybe he really does want to be just friends?

  I switch gears, pushing the very attractive Walker Kelly from my mind to focus on my best friend, Myra. After texting her about my horrible day yesterday, I whine about needing to let loose a little, while not spending a dime because of all the sudden expenses I have that I wasn’t counting on. We agree on a girls’ night in tomorrow. I’ll provide the nachos, she’ll bring the alcohol.

  One issue down.

  Seven hundred and forty-three to go.

  Or somewhere around there…

  Let’s move on to the issue of my car.

  There are very few people in this world that I can count on. Other than Callie, there’s Myra, Michelle, my brother Calvin, and… Yeah. That’s it. Myra is working tonight. Michelle is on a date. Guess I’ll try door number three, since Callie is out for the evening.

  Genny: Got stranded in town last night. Any chance you can give me a lift, then help me change a flat and install a new battery in my car?

  The chances of Calvin being able to help me on a Friday night are slim to none, but I have to try.

  Calvin: I’m at a concert. I can help tomorrow afternoon?

  Genny: I’ll let you know if I need you. Thanks anyway!

  Do I have any right to text my new friend? The one who is anything but?

  I’ve literally got nothing to lose at the moment.

  Genny: Hey, Just Friend Walker. Thanks again for helping me out yesterday.

  He doesn’t reply right away and I hide my disappointment by getting some housework done. I scrub the kitchen, the bathrooms, the floors. I fold two loads of laundry and think about how pathetic I am. Twenty-nine years old and my Friday night consists of cleaning the house. At least I won’t need to worry about doing it later this weekend.

  Just friends Walker Kelley: That’s what friends are for, Genny with a G. Your car is still in town. Need a ride?

  He’s a mind-reader.

  Genny: Can you make my car drivable again?

  Just friends Walker Kelley: If it’s just a flat and dead battery, yeah. Do you need a new battery, or should I bring jumper cables?

  Genny: If you don’t mind driving me around, a new battery. But if you don’t have time, no worries. My brother said he can help tomorrow.

  No worries? Wow. I’m totally failing in the not-caring-if-he’s-on-a-date department. Hopefully he can’t see through my flimsy attempt at indifference.

  Just friends Walker Kelley: I’m free right now. You at home?

  He didn’t say he didn’t have a date. I try to pretend I didn’t notice.r />
  Giving an affirmative reply, I hurry back upstairs to make it look like I’m not trying, but I still look good. Extra coat of mascara? Check. Shiny pink lip gloss? Check. Run a brush through my hair so it looks soft and touchable? Check. Change out of my cleaning shirt? Check.

  Just friends, my ass.

  A million questions are running through my head about him. What kind of car does he drive? What does he do for a living? Why is free at seven on a Friday evening? Will he kiss me tonight, or make me wait until the next time I see him?

  I push it all aside, focusing on the fact that I got paid today, so I can afford this new battery Walker’s going to take me to get. I have no idea how much a new battery costs, but I doubt it will be cheap. Nothing is cheap when it comes to cars. Except the car itself, sometimes.

  I’m upstairs when he knocks on the door. After yelling that it’s open, I casually meander down the steps, like I don’t have a care in the world and I wasn’t just checking out my own reflection, anticipating his arrival. Walker stands just inside the back door, eyeing me cautiously. Probably trying to determine how dangerous I am today, since I can see and no part of me is numb. I almost wish I couldn’t see him again. It would be much easier to keep my hands to myself if I wasn’t aware of how good he looks in that Green Day t-shirt stretched taut across his pecs and arms, and that stubble he's sporting that instantly makes me wonder how it would feel scraping across my inner thighs.

  As I very obviously check him out, he does the same, his eyes sweeping down, then back up my form in a way just friends don’t do. I’m hoping the knowing smile he’s wearing when his eyes make it back to my face is in appreciation.

  “Hey Friend,” I offer in greeting, amazed at how breathy my voice suddenly is.

  “Looks like you’re feeling better.”

  Shit. He probably saw me at my worst last night. I didn’t even think about that. I hadn’t showered in almost two full days, and I was crying.

  Come to think of it, I’m surprised he came back today.

  Maybe there’s something to this just friends thing. None of my boytoys would’ve offered me a ride unless it was back to their place. And they wouldn’t have stopped to check on me at all, had they seen me crying.