Out of Ruins Page 7

They chat like old times about the boys and their nights before hanging up so Jules can get ready. Jules jumps from her bed to look for the perfect first date outfit and settles on her favorite jean capris with a petal pink blouse. The jeans say casual, but the ruffled tuxedo collar on the blouse makes it flirty and dressy. Washing her face, she applies a facial mask and plugs in her hair straightener. The butterflies in her stomach are on an all-out protest as she watches the minutes click closer and closer to six while fixing her hair. Rinsing the mask away, she applies make-up slowly; making each swipe of the brush or stroke of shadow exact. It’s while she’s lining her eyes that she remembers her mother’s make-up lessons when she, Katie and Tanya came home with bags of cheap products from the drug store one summer day.

  “The trick is to look like you’re not really wearing anything,” she said; showing them each how to apply the perfect little circle of blush to the apples of their cheeks and sweep a nice, light brown over their lids.

  “I want a smoky eye. How do you do a smoky eye, Ms. B?” Tanya asked; never content to just blend in.

  The memory makes Jules both happy and sad as she makes a small swoop at the edge of her eye. Satisfied with her face, she adds curls to the ends of her long, straight hair for a little bounce. Surveying her work, it dawns on her that she put more effort into her appearance tonight than she has since junior prom. Her stomach growls, reminding her she hasn’t eaten all day. Shoot! She stresses and quickly shoots a text to West. “I haven’t eaten yet, and I completely forgot to ask if we would be getting dinner. We don’t have to; I can eat now. I just wanted to check.” She feels horrible because she doesn’t want to imply he should spring for dinner. He never said what they would be doing.

  He responds back quickly: ‘Of course I’m feeding you! I’ll see you soon.’

  She finishes off her outfit with a simple bracelet and matching necklace and is heading downstairs to wait when the doorbell rings.

  She assumes West is early and calls out, “I’ll get it.” Taking deep breaths, she makes herself take each stair tread one at a time as Jason runs from the living room.

  “I’ve got it, Jase,” she warns him; picking up her pace down the stairs.

  Jason looks over his shoulder and shakes his head; antagonizing her as he reaches the door first and hollers, “It’s the pizza guy!”

  “Pizza?” she echoes dejectedly as she takes in the delivery guy’s red shirt and hat. She throws her hair over her shoulder, takes the boxes and gives him a polite smile. She asks him to hang on before seeing her dad walk into the foyer with a check. Letting him deal with the payment, she moves to carry the pizza into the kitchen as Jase pushes into her and tries to grab the boxes from her hands. She lifts them over his head; teasing him as he growls at her.

  “Let me carry them, Jules. I opened the door!” he shouts; his voice rising in angry octaves with each word.

  “Quit, punk — you’ll make me drop them!” she huffs when his hands hit her arm.

  “Good evening, Mr. Blacklin.”

  Jules freezes. She’s in the middle of kicking Jase in the leg when she hears the smooth-like-chocolate voice in the doorway behind her.

  “West,” her father acknowledges. She blows out a frustrated sigh at being caught fighting with her little brother and plasters a smile worthy of a Miss America contestant on her face as she turns. Jase whoops; abandoning her and the pizza he no longer cares about as he rushes to West’s side.

  “West! Did you come to watch movies with us? We’re going to eat pizza…if Jules will give it up,” he adds with a frown; his little brows lowering over his blue eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Hey man.” West messes with Jason’s hair and lifts his gaze to Jules; his warm eyes fastening on hers as he speaks to her brother. “You were going about it all wrong, young padawan,” he tells him in a hushed tone. Jules watches in curiosity as West leans down and whispers advice of some sort into Jase’s ear. Her brother’s eyes go round as saucers as he listens and a Cheshire grin takes over his face. When West straightens, Jase walks towards her with a smile still plastered on his face. He peeks over his shoulder once and West nods. Her dad is still standing behind West, trying to keep a straight face. Finally, Jase steps before her, raises his hand and presses his pointer and middle fingers together. He swipes them through the air slowly from left to right while speaking in a deep voice, “You will give me the pizza.”

  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.”

  Eight

  “Perhaps he did have it.” Jules smiles at the memory. “However, the moment we drove away from the house, the sky opened up and heaven rained down on us. Poor West — he was so upset his plans had been ruined by the weather. We ended up doing dinner at a local Mexican diner; my favorite place in town, so he earned points for that. We were done rather quickly. Ever notice how fast Mexican restaurants are? Not great for date nights.”

  Picking at the velvet nap of the armchair, Jules looks to the wall with a wayward smile on her face. “He was so sweet that night. As we left dinner, he gave me this unsure look; apologizing because he’d planned an outdoor night that was now ruined by the weather. He asked if he could bring me back to his house, and quickly explained how we could just relax, watch a movie and talk. His cheeks even turned a little pink at the suggestion because I knew his dad wasn’t home, and it sounded a little suggestive, you know?”

  Jules makes her voice deep, saying, “Hey, wanna go back to my place?” she mimics West and breaks into a small giggle.

  “Something in my face must have scared him off though, because as quickly as he suggested the idea, he changed his mind. We agreed to go to a little coffee shop in town instead. I didn’t care what we did. Of course, the idea of being alone at his house was appealing, but I knew I wanted to talk. We needed to get those first date conversations out of the way because I was falling fast. I think you’ve figured that part out by now.”

  * * *

  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 out
side 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.”