Hanging Loose - Part 8
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Part 8

"Is that so?"

I felt a blush creep over me. "Are you..." I started hesitantly, but he just raised an eyebrow. "Top or bottom?" I rushed out the last few words.

I was woefully unprepared. Until a recent and brief Internet search, I didn't even know about this top and bottom business. All I was sure of was that while I still felt reluctant to be f.u.c.ked-though growing less so every day-I'd really developed an obsession with the idea of doing it to him.

"Baby, anything you want me to be. I'm easy."

"I noticed that."

Jez laughed and pushed me down.

"Have you ever done it?" he asked.

"Jenny and I tried it once, but she didn't like it," I groaned out.

"You probably had no idea what you were doing."

"That's a safe a.s.sumption," I agreed.

"Well, I can teach you all my secrets when we get home." He winked.

"I can't wait."

When we returned, everyone was up and about, and I felt a flush of embarra.s.sment spread over me. It had to be obvious what we had been up to out there. Fortunately n.o.body paid us any mind. Doug and Jasper played with power tools, building what looked like wooden boxes. Probably beehives. Ginny went bonkers when she spotted Jez's temporary tattoo and didn't relent till she got him to pose for her with a surfboard. She didn't comment on the hickey.

Chapter Ten.

The next day, the four of us "youngsters" headed down to the beach. I wore Jez's spare wet suit. It didn't bode well. Sweeping my objections aside, he'd taken into his head to teach me to surf. After considerable coaching, I was able to stand up on the board and even glide a short distance. The proud enthusiasm Jez showed was greatly out of proportion to my achievements, yet he looked so sincerely pleased that I had to believe he wasn't just humoring me. Still, I think Jasper was the more accurate one when he joked that I looked like Donald Duck on the board.

"Don't listen to him, Ducky," Jez teased. "You were magnificent."

I snorted at both the nickname and the outrageousness of that statement and pushed him underwater. Eventually I made my escape to the sh.o.r.e, where I could watch and draw them riding the waves. We didn't get back to the house till midafternoon.

It was a quiet, lazy time. I took a cold shower to cool down. Upon returning to our room, I found it empty, but through the window I spotted two figures-Jez and Jasper-stroll off into the trees. My heart did a panicky little somersault. I chided myself for it; two guys could take a completely innocent walk into the woods. Jasper had a girlfriend-not that this necessarily meant anything. No, this was getting silly. I told myself to chill.

The house was too quiet. I wandered around till I found Ginny on the back deck. She was sitting cross-legged in a wicker chair with my sketchbook in her lap. It was open at one of the Venice Beach Promenade pages.

"These are really good," she said before I could complain about privacy and personal property.

"Thanks," I muttered.

Ginny fast-forwarded to a page her index finger had bookmarked. It was one of my favorites of Jez.

"I really like this one. Can I scan it in?"

She hopped off the chair and bounced into the house without waiting for my reply. I remembered that I had some more revealing sketches of Jez there.

"Don't worry. I already saw the nudie ones!" she shouted back. Great.

I lowered myself into a chair and gave myself to the moment, the leaves rustling and crickets chirping. I might have nodded off for a second. Steps thudding on the deck and the sc.r.a.pe of a chair stirred me back to wakefulness. It was Jasper stretching out in a rickety deck chair.

"Where's Jez?" I asked.

"Went with Dad for a drive. They'll be back soon."

Ginny waltzed back and thrust my sketchbook in my hands.

"Thanks," she said unexpectedly. I think she might have even smiled.

"Be a good sis and get us a couple of beers," Jasper spoke up. "Please," he added, seeing her grimace. She trotted away with the minimum amount of enthusiasm.

"I think she likes you," Jasper said once Ginny was out of earshot. He sounded nonplussed. "What did you do to her?"

"I've been told I'm likable. But I really don't think she's overly fond of me."

"No, she definitely likes you. She was outright civil just now."

"Is that unusual?"

Jasper let out a small chuckle. "She's had quite a crush on Jez since she was little, so she's been hostile toward all his boyfriends-especially since Ronnie."

A loud, derisive snort and clinking of bottles announced Ginny's return.

"Ginny really hates him," Jasper narrated.

She put the bottles on the table, then took a sneaky swig of Jasper's first.

"He was a drama queen who used Jez and then did a mind f.u.c.k on him," she said.

Jasper rolled his eyes in the manner of someone hearing the same tirade for the umpteenth time.

"Did you know he's a big p.o.r.n star now?" Ginny went on. "I mean, Jez dragged him out of the closet but surely didn't shove him into the s.m.u.t business. His a.s.s has seen more c.o.c.k than a poultry farm!"

"Ginny!" Jasper and I exclaimed in unison.

"I'm just saying that he's a big fat phony."

"How do you even know what he's doing?" Jasper asked, exasperated.

"Internet! I'm keeping an eye on him." She cast meaningful look in my direction before das.h.i.+ng off.

"I think I better not p.i.s.s her off."

"She's mostly harmless."

"How about you?" As ridiculous as it was, I still felt a sting of jealousy. However, he took it completely differently.

"Don't worry. I won't ask you your intentions toward Jez," Jasper said. Somehow it still felt like he was measuring me up. "My parents were good friends with Adelle. Jez is practically a brother."

"He told me Rob used to bring him up here."

"That's true, but it was Adelle who brought them both around first."

"So you're saying I better not run afoul of the family," I said half joking, half serious.

Jasper's normally sober features eased into a friendly smile. "I think you're okay. Jez seems happier than he's been since-" He was interrupted by the man in question bounding up the stairs.

"Guess what's for dinner?" Jez beamed at us, holding up the lifeless bodies of a couple of long-eared furry critters.

"Wabbit?" Jasper took a long gulp from his bottle.

"And here I thought it was duck season," I commented. Seeing Jasper shoot beer through his nose was a reward in itself.

Later I helped to clear the table. I spotted some stocky mason jars on the kitchen counter: pickles and jams. With a pang, they summoned up dusty old memories.

"Did you make those?" I asked Loreen.

"Yeah, it's a hobby. I keep telling myself I do it because this way we get canned goods that are not full of all those preservatives and food coloring, but the truth is, I just like doing it."

"It probably tastes better too," I agreed.

"It usually does. I recently made some pickled green tomatoes." She pointed at a fat little jar. "An old country recipe. It has a very distinct flavor."

I nodded. "My grandma used to make pickled baby watermelons. There's nothing else that tastes like that. I used to spend the summer with her. She was really old-school; she canned and pickled and had a real pantry. I haven't thought about it for years."

"I take it she's not around anymore."

"She died when I was eight." A shadow of that intense loss I'd felt at the time crossed over my heart. I shook it off and turned back to Loreen. "You do a lot around here yourself, don't you?"

"Doug did most of the work on the additions of the house-you can probably tell. He has peculiar ideas about architecture. Don't tell him I said that."

"And you do the canning and gardening?"

"And some writing. Mostly self-published. Although, a real publisher is interested in reprinting one of my canning books, with glossy color photos and everything. There's a renewed interest in this stuff these days."

"As it should be! I think making pickles and jams is creative. Like edible art, isn't it? I'd personally take a jar of perfect apricot jam over Jeff Koons."

Loreen let out a hearty laugh and slapped me on the back so hard, I nearly splashed into the sink.

"Jez is right about you." She wiped her eyes. "You're funny."

"Oh? What else did he say?" I asked because it'd been needling me that he spoke about me to people I didn't even know about till yesterday, and while they were very nice, it felt weird.

"Only good things."

I wondered what that meant.

Darkness tiptoed over us on soft-padded feet and found us scattered around the world's smallest bonfire. Even so, not one, but two fire extinguishers were within reach. Such was life in the highly flammable Southern California in late summer. The fire was big enough to set a relaxed atmosphere, though. The wine I was sipping lulled me into a mood that was warm and comfortable like a pair of fuzzy slippers. Jez and Scoot scuttered about, dispersing blankets and throw pillows and filling winegla.s.ses.

I watched Jez and that easy familiarity with which he interacted with the others-the friendly scuffle and teasing with Scoot and Ginny and the subtle signs of affection with Doug and Loreen. Jez might not have had a conventional family, but he had plenty of people who cared for him.

As if he felt my gawking, Jez turned and looked back, his face cast in orange tones by the puny, little flames. He gave me an intimate half smile, and my heart was suddenly as full with sweet sticky goodness as one of Loreen's jam jars. At last, Jez came and sat down next to me, fussing about with the pillow and blanket for bit. Finally he settled down and pulled me close. I was as content as a cat. I'd have purred if I could.

The morning light peeled off the layers of sleep one by one. It stubbornly tried to pry my eyelids apart, but I resisted. I snuggled closer to Jez, hiding my face under his arm.

Click. Click.

"What the f.u.c.k?"

I cracked open one eye. In the next moment, they both popped open in disbelief. I sat bolt upright, clutching the blanket in front of me.

Click.

Ginny was kneeling on the foot of the bed. She lowered the camera and grinned.

"You were adorable."

"Ginny, what the h.e.l.l are you doing here?"

"Taking candid photos," she replied without any show of shame.

Jez stirred. "She has no sense of boundaries. I blame the parents," he said sleepily yet unperturbed.

I was speechless. Jez pushed himself up, pulled me to him, and put his chin on my shoulder. I swear he was posing for her. I shoved him away, but he just dragged me with him, laughing.

Click. Click.

"Okay, Ginny, you need to go," said Jez. "Nate and I would like to have morning s.e.x, and you're not allowed to take pictures."

"You're no fun!" Ginny stomped toward the door.

"And no listening through the door!" Jez yelled after her.

Her footsteps thundered down the stairs.

"Seriously..." I grumbled.