I had planned to show him the pier. It is a landmark here on the West coast, a special place, a romantic place. They even filmed some TV shows here. Today it would be a place where I could get to know Jesse better, exploring the many attractions along the wooden pier.

Older men dotted the edge of the pier with their fishing poles, casting their lines in hope of catching today's dinner. Kids begged their parents for yet another ride on the screaming rollercoaster, while younger children preferred the famous Merry-go-round. Looking down the beach we spotted hundreds of people on bikes, roller skates and skateboards. Even a small group of tourists were maneuvering Segway's along the narrow concrete path going for miles along Santa Monica beach.

"Let's check out the beach," Jesse said.

We ran down the wooden stairs leading to the beach and soon I kicked at the sand as we walked along the water's edge. Thoughts of our last walk on the beach in Malibu at the night of the bonfire, drifted into my mind. My pulse quickened in response to the memory of his kisses. Who was this guy, this hunk from New York? He was having a very strong effect on me in a short time. One might call it "love at first sight". No, this was "lust at first sight". I chuckled. You don't fall in love with someone after just a week or two. Or could you? Whatever it was it made me nervous and excited at the same time. Could I trust him? Could I trust myself? After all, I didn't exactly have a rock solid past when it came to emotional issues. I still had a lot of hurt from my mother's death and a lot of resentment towards my father. And then there was my step-mom, Cinnamon, who was practically my age. What had I learned about good loving relationships? In my world, love had been a difficult thing, and the love, between a man and a woman, was the most mysterious force I had ever known, in my life. One moment you were flying above the clouds, and the next moment, you were buried in the darkness of the earthly realities of life. One thing I knew for sure was that love hurts, and if Jesse was just a player this could sting. The thought of it scared me, and I knew that was why I was resisting.

"Did you know that Santa Monica beach is one of the most recognizable beaches in the world? It has more screen time in movies than most actors get in a lifetime. They even filmed some of the scenes to the old TV show "Baywatch" with Pamela Anderson here."

"Is that so? Wow, I can see you are taking your tour guide duties seriously. You know, if this whole fashion thing doesn't work out for you, there's always the tour industry. I hear those Hollywood tour busses make excellent money." He grinned and ducked out of the way just in time for my punch to miss his shoulder. "Hey baby, no need to get all violent on me."

He laughed and wrapped his strong arms around me, pulling me close to his chest. I was extremely conscious of his hard muscles shifting smoothly under his shirt. My nose picked up the light scent of fresh cologne, leaving me powerless to resist and the implication sent waves of excitement through my body. Each time I was near him, the pull was stronger. He released me and slipped his hand over mine as we walked.

"How's your hand? Is it getting any better?" He'd been working out at the gym on an improvised rehabilitation plan that Chase devised to help build muscles and flexibility.

"Actually, it's getting much better. I have more strength in my grip now. Chase is a bad ass trainer. I didn't think it would be possible but he push me harder than anyone. The guy's a fucking slave driver and it hurts. He says it's for my own good, but I think he enjoys inflicting pain on me." He tossed his head to clear the hair from his eyes and chuckled.

"That's amazing, Jesse. Maybe you will be able to ride again soon. I really like your uncle, by the way. He is a nice guy and hilarious sometimes. It must be fun living with him." The expression on Jesse's face darkened and he dropped his head. "Hey, did I say something wrong?"

"No, it's just...Kenny hasn't been feeling well lately."

"Oh?"

He kicked the sand. "I hate seeing him down and not well."

"You mean like the flu?"

"Don't have a clue. He doesn't either. He's tired all the time and complains that he feels nauseous."

"That sounds like the flu. How long has it been going on?"

"Too long. He's missed a lot of work too. I've had to cover for him at the bar, work a lot of extra shifts."

"Has he gone to the doctor?"

"Not yet. He keeps hoping it will go away. You know how us men. We don't want to be a pussy and admit we need someone else's help. My idea of treating illness is to just drink myself freaking blind with whiskey and tequila. It's a sure fire remedy. The alcohol kills all diseases."

"Ha- that's figures you would say something like that. Most guys are like babies when they get sick. Well, I hope your uncle gets better soon and tell him, I said he needs to go see the doctor if this doesn't blow over soon. I'm not a medical expert of any kind, but it only seems logical, you know."

He stopped walking and turned to step in front of me, putting both hands on my shoulders. His touch was like velvet, smooth and soft. He gazed into my eyes, the light ocean breeze blowing those stray strands of hair into his blue eyes.

"I'm having such a great time with you here. You are magnificent, Niki. I love your heart and compassion. You are always thinking about other people needs and happiness before your own." His finger traced down my cheek, catching under my chin. "Every day when I wake up I wonder, how will you surprise me today?" My knees went into Jello mode and I felt his hot breath on my lips as he spoke the next words. "Maybe you are just a beautiful fantasy. Will you please kiss me, before you evaporate and disappear?" He tilted my chin up, for a feasting pleasure on my lips. Tingles shot through my body as his tongue probed my mouth. He ran his hands up, tangling them into my hair as we twisted into fiery hot kisses.

God, it was like he had a remote control and could just send me into a lusty frenzy at the touch of a button. And it wasn't just one thing that he did that sent me into a dizzy spiral of hot emotions. It was everything, and anything. A word, a smile, a look, and of course the "the hair move", the thing he did with his hair to push it out of his eyes. That was like drawing the Community Chest card in Monopoly, "Advance to Go" and collect $200. But this was more than just a game. He had burrowed into my heart and this time, I was playing for keeps.

By the end of the week I was in deep with Jesse. He was tugging at my heartstrings. I had that light weightless sensation, like walking on air. How did it happen? I don't know. There's no logic to these things. You meet someone and you feel that pull, and that's that. Then you get more tangible information, confirmation that you are heading down the right path. Then you trust a little more. If it's true that actions speak louder than words, then Jesse's actions were screaming full blast. My phone was blowing up with his texts to me. He sent me flirtatious messages, fun messages, serious messages and I was eating it all up.

He stopped by the mall again on Wednesday. I met him for a study break, on the pedestrian mall, in between my afternoon fashion design classes. He was standing there in the same place where he had smashed his cell phone against the wall, only this time he was holding a pistachio and vanilla double decker ice cream cone as a little love offering for me. Green rivulets of ice cream were dripping and melting down the sides of the brown waffle cone and running onto his fingers. He said I needed a sugar rush to help me have energy for my next class. I licked the droplets of ice cream from his fingers, before taking the cone. How long had he stood out there in the hot sun waiting for me? Instead of showing up with flowers in hand, he had dripping ice cream. I loved his original approach to winning over women.

If Jesse had it his way, he would have seen me every day of the week, but that made me feel anxious. Only fools rush in. Slow and steady wins the race.

Saturday night was coming up and after literally overheating my phone with a gazillion texts and numerous calls, we made plans to go out. The thought of sex with Jesse no longer lingered in the back of my mind. It came crashing into my frontal lobe.

At the end of the week my emotions had put out a contract on my logic and any concerns about "dating rules" lost the battle. I threw caution to the wind and said to hell with rules and what other people thought. These were matters of the heart and my heart was screaming for Jesse.

I lay in bed at night tracing every inch of his body in my mind, longing for his arms to hold me. I imagined his hands pressing over my feminine curves, willing his fingers to slip inside me, begging him to take me. Thirsting for him to devour me with endless hot kisses, laved with his velvet tongue. Fighting this tidal wave of desire was exhausting so I decided that Saturday night Jesse would bang the shit out of me.

Chapter Eighteen.

Niki "What's the name of this place again, Jesse?" I asked as we walked up the sidewalk in Hollywood, looking for the bar where we were meeting Chase, Kat and the others.

"Five O Four. It's right here." There were a couple of bouncers all dressed in black, like Mafia hit men hovering at the entrance. We got lucky and found a parking space on a side street several blocks down. With buildings being so close together in Hollywood, parking usually meant paying money to use a lot, but we'd rather walk a little than pay. Five O Four didn't have a real store front made of glass windows, or anything like that. It was open to the outdoors. The bar itself was small and it was located in a space that was shared with a Mexican restaurant, across a wide sidewalk that lead to other establishments farther back. There were high top tables lined up directly opposite the length of the bar, elevated from the sidewalk below, with just about enough room for a waitress with a tray to squeeze between the two, and butted up directly against a decorative black wrought iron railing. It gave the feeling of being outside on a patio, when you were really inside. It was cozy, with a kind of French Quarter, New Orleans ambiance in its design and decor.

It was easy to spot Kat and Chase in such a small place. They were sitting at one of the tables up against the black wrought iron rail.

"Hey you two. Pull up a chair." Chase said as we approached the table. He stretched a muscular arm up, to "high five" Jesse over our head.

"What's on tap tonight?" Jesse asked.

"Their specialty is frozen blended drinks from those machines." He pointed to five large machines built into the wall behind the bar, ensconced in stainless steel. Each was filled with a different color of frozen alcoholic drink blends. A metal stirring device slowly rotated around behind the circle of glass on each machine. The machines held gallons of premixed alcoholic slushy drinks, ready to pour out of the spigot. It was like being at the fair, an alcoholic fair that is.

"You gotta try this frozen daiquiri." Kat said pushing her straw, which stood erect in thick light green blended ice, in my direction for a sip. I drew on the straw and a cold refreshing lime flavor shocked my mouth with sour.

"Oh my God. I'm sure to get an ice cream headache from this, but order me one anyway, Jesse. Are you going to try one? "

"Hell no. Last time I checked I had a dick. That's a girl drink. Real men drink beer, or Jack Daniels." He grabbed his crotch with a crocked smile and jiggled his hand, as witness to his words.

Kat and I looked at each other and simultaneously rolled our eyes. I played it off as humorous, but under the table I squeezed my legs together in response to a sharp delightful tingle. Tonight was going to be "the night" and there he was tempting my patience, looking all fine, drawing attention to the very part of his body I had designs on. I struggled to remain cool and composed on the outside, when sizzling thoughts of Jesse's delicious body and what I wanted to do with it, were burning me up on the inside. I squirmed nervously in my seat and glanced to the back of the bar.

Oh God. Nerves. Calm down.

How long do I have to sit here acting all social? I wiped a bead of sweat from my brow and took a long drink of my icy cocktail. Maybe there is a back room where I can rip his clothes off and let him take me right there.

"Niki?" Jesse's smooth low voice was in my ear. "You okay? You look a little pink in your cheeks." She slid off her chair and went to the bar for another icy drink.

I fanned myself with my hand. "It's just a little warm in here." I squeaked.

"Oh my God, I love this place!" Kat woo hooed in her alcohol infused excitement. She came prancing up to our table with a different flavored drink in hand, the cup dancing in the air above her head. She was driven to sample all of the flavors before the evening was through. "Niki, you gotta sample this blueberry one, girl."

I grabbed the high flying drink over her head with both of my hands and carefully lowered it to the table. "Careful, Kat," I laughed. "I will taste it but not all down the front of my shirt."

Jesse leaned in, with a huge grin and pulled me into him in a one arm bear hug. "Let that shit spill! I'll lick it off your chest." He growled in my ear and planted a teasing kiss on my lips.

No sooner had we got through our first round of drinks, when a rush of people filled the bar and every time I turned around, I caught an elbow in my side. The crowd was thick and getting crazier by the minute.

Kat squealed and sat up on the high bar chair on her knees, waving to the waitress. "Look! They have shots." She turned to yell over the crowd to a young waitress sporting a tray filled with tiny plastic cups. A clear liquid sloshed in the cups as she fought her way through the tangle of arms and elbows to our table.

"What are those?" Kat asked, leaning on her elbows with her butt up in the air. Only Kat could pull off kneeling on the seat of the chair like a child.

"Kamikaze tequila shots. Would you like one?"

"Chase!" She yelled to no one in particular. "Get your ass over here! We're doing Kamikaze shots!" Kat straightened up on her knees on top of the stool and craned her neck, searching for Chase. The waitress waited for our order, poised with her tray balanced on one hand in a fashion that begged for a drunken accident to happen.

"Jesse, where's Chase?" Jesse shrugged, annoyed to be distracted from his nuzzling of my hair. "Fuck him. He's shit outta luck," she barked out with mock anger in her voice and turned to the waitress. "Give us four shots, please. And put it on Chase's tab," she instructed the waitress and spelled out Chase's full name, as printed on his credit card. She slid one of the shots over to the side of the table to save for him. I saw Chase had turned to talk to a guy and got swallowed up by the crowd. Eyeing it, Jesse threw his shot back and said, "I have seen that guy at the gym. It's a friend of Chase's."

Kat slammed her empty shot cup on the table and slumped back down onto her chair, tired of kneeling and leaning on the table. The noise level in the bar was crazy loud, as the sound level of the crowd competed with the sound decibels of the music. I sat with Kat waiting for the guys to return, enjoying the music, when I heard a commotion erupt to my right, on the cement walkway area, just over the black wrought iron railing. The sequence of events that happened next, unfurled with such speed it was like being in some freaky fucked up "Apocalypse Now" kind of time warp.

For no apparent reason, a large drunken freight train of a guy smashed his beer mug into another guy's face out in the cement walkway area between our bar the Mexican restaurant. The other guy's face was Chase's. He threw his hands out, like what the fuck was that for, startled and obviously blindsided by the move, then reeled backwards and the big guy was on him like a Sumo wrestler, hitting Chase repeatedly. I barely had time to open my mouth to gasp, when I felt a heavy hand on my shoulder pressing down. Jesse had seen the brute beating down Chase and jumped in like lightening, propelling himself over our table with unbelievable speed, clearing the table and the railing too, all in one agile and strategic move using my shoulder as his launching pad. I had never seen a body fly over a high top table like that ever in my life. I covered my mouth with my hands, eyes bulging out of my head. My mind screaming, "No! No!" Jesse was like wildfire. He couldn't be contained. He threw the solid force of his entire body at the brute in a football style tackle. The guy went down hard with a thud, cracking his head on the cement, but Jesse didn't stop. He wailed on the guy, pummeling him with angry fists, punch after punch. His exquisitely pumped up biceps working like pistons.

"Oh my God! "Ka-a-at!!" I shrieked with panic.

I bailed out of my chair screaming at the top of my lungs for Kat to follow me, shoving and clawing at the dense mass of torsos gathering for an audience.

Oh my God! Oh my God! He wasn't stopping! Make him stop! Someone make him stop! He's gonna kill the guy!

The rest was a chaotic frozen alcoholic drink blur. Chase was lying on the ground twisting and writhing in pain. "My nose! He fucking broke my God damn nose!" The spaces between his fingers were dripping with blood, bright and red, as he curled into a fetal position on his side. The bouncers struggled to part the tight pack of onlookers. They couldn't get to Jesse fast enough to stop him from doing serious damage to the guy, already down on the ground with Jesse straddled over him. Jesse's face contorted with grotesque malevolence and I saw that lightning had fists, exploding with rage. Years of pent up emotions erupted, and found their outlet, pouring out like water through a sieve.

"Stop it Jesse!" I yelled, "Jesse! Stop!!" But my voice was muffled by the shouts of the crowd and the bar music. It felt like I was screaming at the top of my lungs, but to no avail. The people in the bar all looked strange and cold to me. They laughed and cheered the gruesome assault like a Gladiator fight at the Coliseum. I stood at the edge of the crowd, numb. My hands covered my mouth with trembling fingers. Jess's face was like stone, hideous, and different. His once deep blue eyes, were now glazed over, an icy, steel gray. This is what I had feared. The dangerous side that I had feared would come out was presently in plain view and I was appalled. My hero, my wonderful handsome Jesse, the apple of my eye, was changed and seeing this frightened me.

I was conflicted. I was seized with the urge to run to him, and at the same moment I was also repulsed by him. I stood reluctantly watching, clutching Kat's elbow, not wanting to look and yet not able to tear my eyes away either, as the two bouncers came down on him like a blast from a cannon. One of them rushed Jesse from behind and put him in a choke hold, arching back in convulsive jerks, hoping to snap him out of his fury.

Oh God, please don't let them break his neck!

The other one slipped his hands under the armpits of the limp man on the ground and pulled him out of Jesse's reach.

When watching something that violent, it hits you, and you can't help but lose your balance and fall. My stomach turned. I buried my face in Kat's arm, I couldn't bare to watch another second, my heart was hurting for him, as the bouncers drug Jesse to the front, and threw him out of the bar. Kat tried to run over to Chase and help him up, but before she could get there his friend from the gym helped him up. In two seconds flat, another set of hostile looking bouncer dudes flanked Chase and escorted him out also.

I wasn't comfortable with all this male testosterone laden bravado. It's hard for me to comprehend when guys brag later about getting in a fist fight. They act like it's something to be admired, and if any blood is drawn, all the better, as if the blood is some kind of red badge of courage. They seem to enjoy repeating all the details, blow by blow like they are professional boxers in the ring.

In the exaggerated scenario of my anxiety ridden imagination, where adrenaline-spiked fear colors and embellishes what my eyes perceive, I imagine things are worse than they really are. And sometimes I swear, I can even feel other people's pain right in my solar plexus. It was no surprise to me when a sinking emotion soured in the pit of my stomach, as I watched Chase disappear through the bodies.

What an awful night this had turned out to be. I just wanted to go home. I realized that all my hopes for Jesse and me were dashed the moment the large guy's head hit the ground. It may as well have been my heart that Jesse was thrashing into the ground, because the thought of being in a relationship with a reckless bad boy who could unleash such anger at a moment's notice, sent a chill up my spine. This was the proverbial "red flag" that any logical minded person would recognize as a warning. Are some just hard wired to be violent? Or can people change? I bit my lip and looked down at my hands, my fingers twisting into nervous knots.

"Come on Kat. Let's go home," I said with a heavy voice. Kat was frantically pounding keystrokes on her cell phone, trying to get a message through to Chase. She looked up briefly, "Sure, hun. I just want to try to reach Chase. Poor guy, I want to make sure he's okay. Those fucking assholes wouldn't even let me go talk to him." Making our way out of the crowded bar, pushing through a sea of drunken smiles and glazed eyes, I took her by the elbow. She continued to text with her head down, allowing me to guide her, walking like she was a blind person and I was her seeing eye dog.

"The show is over!" a bouncer yelled, like the unraveling of my heart was some kind of Vegas show for all to see. The bar goers resumed their festive atmosphere, as if nothing unusual happened, whooping it up and high fiving each other with gusto. For them, the fight had been entertainment on the level of an exploding UFC match but for me, my world had just got a little darker. And the door of trust that had begun to open toward Jesse, slammed shut with a metallic clang.

In the car on the ride home my phone was buzzing like crazy with text messages from Jesse. Kat looked over at me with her hands on the wheel.

"Aren't you going to reply?"

I stared at the phone, lying in the palm of my hand. I shrugged and pursed my lips, in a "I don't give a rat's ass" attitude. Kat drove on in silence, throwing a sidelong glance to check on me every so often.

"Not talking?" She waited. "You're not mad are you? Niki, seriously girl. Don't be mad at him about this. Answer him." She tipped her head in the direction of my cell phone. "He saved Chase, for Christ sake."

Suddenly, I was overcome with tiredness. I felt exhausted. I didn't have the energy to even speak a word, even if my mind could form one. The words stayed there like rocks, weighing down my tongue, too heavy to lift, monumental boulders that I couldn't get out of my mouth. I sat that way, head down staring at the stupid phone, until finally, I switched it to vibrate and shoved it back in my purse. I rolled my head to the side and let it rest up against the cool glass of the window, staring out into the darkness.

"Niki, don't be like this. He was just sticking up for Chase, defending him. Hell, he had to. That asshole would have put Chase in the hospital. You can't blame Jesse. Chase's friend told that drunken idiot started the fight for no reason. Chase didn't even know the guy." She peered over at me and then trained her eyes on the road. "Apparently the guy thought he heard Chase say, "suck my dick" to him." She shook her head, "Of course, Chase said no such thing."

I gritted my teeth and closed my eyes. Damn him. Why did Jesse do this to me? He wormed his way into my heart and now this. The pain was setting in, methodically creeping over the bright parts of my heart like a black sinister shadow, consuming every bit of happiness I had found with him, like a festering, pestilent disease. I was gripped with fear, panic twisting its hand around my throat, squeezing all the air out of my lungs. The car couldn't get me home fast enough. Although Kat had the air conditioning on high, I felt like the air suffocated me and I pounded my finger on the window button, frantic to feel the movement of the wind on my face. I wanted to run, to escape, to fly away.

Kat shoved the gear shift into park at the apartment. She laid her hand gently on my knee and spoke softly, "Niki, girl, things will be better in the morning. You'll see. Everything will look better when the sun comes up. It always does." She wiggled my knee gently.

I smiled a meek pathetic smile and opened the car door into the still of the night. We threw our arms around each other, girlfriend fashion, as we humped it up the sidewalk to our apartment. Maybe Kat was right. I exhaled a deep breath, once inside the comfort of my own place, and headed off to bed where I planned to bury my face under my pillow. I needed to process the night's events and rationalize why despite everything that had happened tonight, Jesse still had such a tremendous visceral pull on me.

Chapter Nineteen.

Jesse "Dude, come on, let's get some blow." I had been working a deal with a skinny looking chic in an alley. We had just got thrown out of the bar and I was still on fire, my adrenaline pumping like gangbusters and Niki left me mad as hell. Chase yanked my arm hard spinning me around as I rushed up to him.

"No! Are you fucking crazy? Let's go." He wiped dried blood from his nose with the back of his hand. The chic in the alley paced and smoked a cigarette, nervously flicking ashes, as she watched us talking.

"Hold on, hold on, she's gonna leave if I don't go talk to her," I said and wrenched myself free from his grip. I was out of my mind thinking about Niki. She wouldn't answer her phone and the look on her face as the bouncers carried me out, devastated me. I didn't know what the fuck to do, except what I always did in these situations, self-medicate. Booze works to a certain extent but blow is the shit.

I was halfway back to the chic when the powerful thrust of Chase's two hands grabbed me by both arms and practically lifted me off my feet, shoving me down the sidewalk in the opposite direction of the alley. It was like a fucking tornado came out of nowhere, lifted me up off my feet and flung me against the brick walls, spiraling me down the store fronts. After I stopped bouncing off the walls, Chase walked me farther away from the alley, squeezing my arm like a fucking vice and hissing in my ear. "She's an undercover cop you idiot!"

He dragged me along like a disobedient puppy as I looked back over my shoulder. I could tell from his face that it was no joke. "How the hell was I supposed to know?" He threw me a glance like I was a fucking moron and let go of my arm with a push that made me rock back on my heels.

We had stopped in front of a dingy sports bar and we both stood there eye to eye breathing hard. "Tequila shots, on me." I jerked my head in the direction of the door to the bar and Chase shoved it open with one hand as we went in Why the fuck doesn't this house stop spinning? I staggered into my bedroom groaning and fell face first onto the bed after another night of meeting with my therapist, Jack Daniels, this time joined by his fellow colleague, Jose Cuervo. Old habits were rising up like blisters these days and drinking me blind was always a damn good strategy to kill the pain. Looking back, it was a piss poor idea, but I didn't give two fucks about anything. Niki was still mad at me over the bar fight, which wasn't even my fault, and...I just wanted the world to go the fuck away.

The bed was shaking. Was I still drunk? Or was this a damn earthquake? What the hell? The shaking didn't stop.

"Get up, Jesse." A loud voice invaded my drool laden sleep. It got louder. "Jesse!" And more demanding, "Get the fuck up!"

I was still face down on top of the covers in the same position I had left myself the night before.

I rolled over and squinted up to see the outline of my uncle. He strode to the window and tore back the blinds, making them rattle in the most annoying way. I groaned and covered my eyes with my forearm. "What the fuck did you do that for? Shut that shit!"

"Get up outta that bed. It's nearly noon. I've had enough of your bullshit behavior. Get your ass up, and take a fucking shower, you smell like puke." He spat the words out, as he threw a bath towel at me. Damn. His voice had a sharpness I had never heard before. "When you're done, come to the family room. We need to have a talk." He stormed out of my room. Jesus. I had never seen my uncle act like this. What the fuck was his problem?

I drug myself into the bathroom and showered. My head was splitting like it had been hit with a wrecking crane ball. The search for aspirin drove me out to the kitchen where Kenny stood waiting for me, with a pot of strong black coffee.

"You look like shit." He pushed a cup of coffee across the counter in my direction.