Trading Heartbeats

I woke up in the morning still in the chair. The blanket had fallen onto the floor and Watson was looking at me like he had a secret. But it wasn't a secret. He wanted to be let out. He needed to pee. I yawned and he took that as his cue to jump down. After a good stretch I practically rolled off the chair and went to the door that led to the back yard.

"Clean up after yourself, would ya," I called after him as he scampered off into the yard. The morning was beautiful, sun shining warm on my bare feet as I waited by the door. After a couple minutes I gave up waiting for him to come back and fell back into the chair.

The light on my phone was blinking again, so I grabbed it and disconnected the charger. The screen lit up immediately, showing a text from Aaron.

Toasties?

My eyebrows lifted. It had only been fifteen minutes since he'd sent the text, and I hadn't seen him in over a week.

Meet you there in 30

That gave me plenty of time to spend another ten minutes in the chair scrolling through Twitter. Nothing exciting had happened since the night before. By the time I was finished with social media, Watson had found his way back inside and was sitting next to the door that led into the hallway. I stood and let my fickle fur child out of my room to be free to roam as he pleased.

After a quick shower, I grabbed the first pair of jeans I could find and threw on a cropped blue shirt that boasted IMPERFECT (though, depending on how you read it, it could say IM PERFECT) with a large 22 (because I don't know about you, but I'm feeling 22) over a plain black tank top. I stuck my feet in my favorite Keds, the ones with math equations on them (I'm not a math geek, I swear. I just like it), and grabbed my black BALLIN hat on my way out (because I did not wash my hair).

The great thing about a small town is that it will rarely take more than ten minutes to get anywhere. In this case, it took me just over five to get from my driveway to the diner. I pulled my huge truck into the first available parking spot and hopped down. Aaron was already there. I could see him at a table on the patio as I walked around the building. With someone else. Nash.

I always forget that Aaron and Nash know each other because Aaron didn't go to school with us. In fact, I've only known Aaron for the last three years. We met at an archery thing. Aaron and Nash know each other through the Scottish Games.

"Hey Jessi," the waitress, Emma, greeted me as I was walking up. I motioned to the table with the two boys and she nodded knowingly. "Coffee?" she asked, and it was my turn to nod.

She disappeared inside and I made my way over to the table to greet the boys, hugging them both. Toasties wasn't my first choice of breakfast places, but it wasn't my last either. The wait staff was friendly and the food was better than decent, and the service was usually quick. Before I could even sit down, Emma was setting down my cup of coffee.

"Bless you," I said, grabbing the mug as my butt hit the seat. She breathed out a laugh and I pulled one foot up on the seat and took a sip. The coffee at Toasties was generally sub-par, but thankfully today it was good. Though, after a second sip I decided it wasn't good enough to drink black and I poured half a pack of sugar into it.

Emma was still standing next to me, looking expectantly at my company. "You boys ready?" she asked. "I already know what Jessi wants," she told them. I gave her a cheesy grin and blessed her once more.

They ordered and she disappeared again. I leaned forward to grab one of the plain coffee creamers Emma had left on the table. Aaron pushed the small dish toward me, and I winked at him. "So, Nash," I said, barely glancing up at him. "I've seen you three times in the last four days." I could see him nod in my peripheral. "And before that, what, three times in the last four years? What gives?"

"Done with Berkeley," he said. I leaned back in my chair again and sipped my coffee, casting a quick glace in Aaron's direction and winked again. His expression didn't falter. It was one of things I liked about him. Nash went on. "So, I'm home for the summer, and then next semester I'm starting at Stanford for my PhD."

"No shit," I said. I knew Nash was crazy smart. He was taking college courses while we were in high school and was valedictorian of our class by a landslide. Honestly, despite being his friend, I kind of hated him a little. "PhD in what?" I asked.

"Political Economics," he replied.

I made a face into my coffee, but I knew he saw it. Good. He was meant to. "So, Stanford is like, what, thirty minutes from San Jose State? I'll be back there next semester."

He rolled his eyes. "God, you think because we hang out a few times that we're best friends now?" he said. I pulled another face, this time in his direction, and he laughed. "I suppose we could probably work something out every now and then," he conceded. "So long as you don't delete my number again."

I would have thrown something at him if we weren't in public, or at least if I'd had something within reach that wasn't a utensil or dish of some sort. And I think, somehow, he knew, because he flinched after he said it. I looked over at Aaron, who looked highly amused by the two of us. I felt like we were leaving him out, though, so I steered the conversation in a different direction, asking about the next Games they would be participating in.

Our food came and we ate and talked and I threw down some money on the table before either of them could even think to tell me they would get it. I don't really know for a fact that either of them would, but I didn't want to be put in the position of having to turn it down. Thankfully, neither of them argued.

Nash was the first to get up and leave, excusing himself because he had somewhere to be. Since we were already finished eating, Aaron and I only sat a little longer before deciding there wasn't much reason to stick around.

"Walk you to your truck?" he asked as we got up. I shrugged and accepted the offer, figuring he was parked in the same direction. "Sorry about that, by the way," he said once we'd rounded the side of the diner.

My eyebrows pulled together and I couldn't think of a single thing he'd said or done that warranted an apology. "About what?" I inquired, stepping into the street, heading toward my truck.

"Nash," he said, like it should have been obvious. "I saw him when I got here, and he said he was just getting something to go, so I asked if he wanted to join us," he explained.

I shrugged. "It's fine," I said. "Though, I did feel a little bit like we were leaving you out of conversation sometimes. That's why I kept changing subjects so often."

"And winking at me?" he asked.

I grinned and gave a slight toss of my head. "That may have been for other reasons." I reached for the door handle on my truck. "Wanna go for a drive?" I offered.

He kind of rolled his eyes back and forth a few times, like he was weighing his options. "I would say yes, but it's two hour parking over here, and I've already been here for nearly an hour," he said.

I reached out and smacked his arm. "Go move your fucking car to a different spot and then we'll have two hours, idiot," I said, and gave him a little shove in the direction I'd seen him looking, I assumed at his car.

He laughed and I watched his frame as he walked away. He was tall also. I guess everyone is tall compared to my small self, but Aaron was over a foot taller than me, and broad. His hair was brown with a hint of red in the sun. There was something about him that was slightly intimidating, probably just his size, but he was a gentle giant. I enjoyed looking at him and I liked talking to him. And I liked... other things about him.

Once he was in his car, I climbed up into my truck and started it, switching the CD from Miranda Lambert over to Thomas Rhett's It Goes Like This. I don't know if Aaron likes country, but he'd never complained about the music before. I tapped on the steering wheel to the beat of the song while I waited, and then he was climbing up into the passenger seat.

He sat with one elbow up by the window, his fingers drumming against the topmost part of it. There wasn't very far to go in any one direction in Pacific Grove, and by the time I turned onto Ocean View his other arm was resting on the center console, hand on the inside of my thigh. Clearly he'd caught my meaning.

"You're distracting me," I said when his hand slid up a little. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him smirk, and he slid his hand up a little more.

It was still early enough on a Tuesday morning that not a lot of people were out watching the water. I continued on Ocean View until it turned into Sunset and then pulled off onto a deserted lookout. I had barely put the car in park and killed the engine before he was pressing the release on my seatbelt. I left the car on so the music could still play and cracked the windows so we didn't suffocate and then climbed over the center console and straddled his lap.

He grabbed the bill of my hat and removed it, turned it around and replaced it on my head. Our lips crashed together, his opening hungrily against my mouth. I responded just as eagerly, leaning forward and pushing him back until his head hit the head rest, and then reached down and grabbed the lever to lean the seat back. If it hadn't been motorized, the whole thing would have been a disaster.

I let go when the seat stopped moving. The CD had been near the end when I turned it on, where I had left off the last time I switched discs, and had since started over. I could hear Something To Do With My Hands playing. Aaron's hands were at my hips and slid down to grab my ass. He left them there, occasionally squeezing and lifting me just a little. My hands were on his chest, in his hair, gripping his arms. They were wherever they felt like touching.

One of his hands slid down, between my legs, and his fingers pressed the seam of my jeans against me. I shuddered, gasping softly as he proceeded to rub his fingers in small circles. I gripped his large biceps until he slid his hand back to my rear. He squeezed and lifted me again, shifting slightly underneath me. I grinded against him once he released his grip, and could feel him growing hard.

I don't know how long it was before he lifted me again and broke away from me. "Fuck, Jessi," he gasped out. We were both breathing hard, but I only wiggled my eyebrows at him and attached my lips to his again. Again, he pulled away. "Fuck," he muttered a second time.

This time I pulled myself into an upright position. "Want me to take care of that?" I asked, sliding my fingers down his chest to the waistband of his jeans. He closed his eyes and shook his head. I knew he would say no. He's not the kind of fuck in a car. But I had to ask anyway. "Want me to take you back to your car?" I suggested. Eyes still closed, he nodded.

I stayed on top of him for just a little longer, letting my hand fall from his waistband and brush against him. He cracked open one eye to seem grinning and then I climbed back over the center console into the driver's seat and let the engine roar to life. He put the seat back into an upright position as I turned my hat back around and moved the gear shifter into drive.

"Sorry about that," I said as we drove. He shrugged and I reached over to stroke him through his jeans. After a moment he grabbed my hand and removed it.

"You're a different kind of evil, Jessilynn," he said.

I glanced over at him briefly. "Thank you," I replied. "To be fair-"

"Don't even talk about fair."

"You did start it. And I offered to take care of it," I said over his objection. I could see the look he gave me from the corner of my eye as I pulled up next to his car.

He reached for the release on his seatbelt with one hand and the door with the other, and got down out of the truck. The door shut behind him and I rolled down my window when he rounded the front of my truck instead of going to his car.

"Busy tonight?" he inquired.

I shrugged. "Working until seven thirty. Wanna meet up somewhere around nine?" I asked. That would give me enough time to get home and eat and change. But he shook his head. "Want me to come over?" I guessed. He nodded. I gave a half shrug. "I'll let you know."

And then Aaron did something I didn't expect. He leaned into the car and kissed me hard. His hand went to my face, carefully pulling me toward him as our lips parted in sync with each other. I was breathless when we both finally pulled back. So was he.

"I amend my previous statement," I said. He grinned and kissed me again in a similar fashion, making it difficult for me to think about much else other than finishing what we'd started. "I could just follow you home now?" I suggested. His eyebrows quirked like he hadn't even considered that. "If you don't mind that I haven't washed my hair yet today."

"You know," he laughed, "I really don't."

And so I followed him to his house. We skipped most of the foreplay considering we were both already pretty wound up and went multiple rounds. If I was looking for a relationship, it would probably be with someone like Aaron. He makes me laugh when we're together. I can hold conversations with him and we have common interests. In bed he makes me scream. And afterward we can hang out like we're not fucking on a semi-regular basis. But I'm not looking for a relationship and neither is he, which is why this arrangement is working out.

Though it is a difficult situation that we're having a particularly good day and the sex is so on. I was about leave but I somehow ended up, fully clothed, on top of his naked body in another particularly heated makeout session. The next thing I knew my pants were off and I was riding him again.

When I finally left I had just enough time to go home and shower (for the second time) and get to work. My hair was still wet when I pulled it into a ponytail as I walked from my car toward the club and then to the bar.

I was able to keep busy for the first couple hours, given that my shift started right at the lunch rush. People who spent enough time here knew that the service at the bar tended to be a little quicker, and anything could get in the dining room, you could get in the bar. And lucky me, it seemed like all my favorite regulars were coming.

Things slowed down a bit after that, though. I washed glasses and wiped down the bar and fixed the stools and served the occasional guest. I had just bid a good afternoon to an elderly gentleman when my eye caught movement outside the far window.

Harry and Niall were out on the course again. But this time they hadn't rented it. This time they were playing amongst the common folk. Wild.

I tried not to watch them, but even when I found tasks to occupy myself, I still kept looking up. To be honest, I wasn't even that interested. Something just kept pulling my attention back in their direction. The bar was empty and clean and so I just leaned against the counter and watched. And then my mind started to wander. Which was weird. Because I was never much of a day dreamer up until a couple days ago.

But then I heard movement. And a voice. "I've got my ID out already and I would like a water please," Harry's English accent drawled slowly. Halfway through his sentence I wanted to tell him to spit it out already but I bit my tongue.

"If I wasn't working right now I would deck you," I told him as he approached.

"Do you speak with all the guests that way?" he inquired as I grabbed a water from the cooler.

"Yes," I snapped, practically slamming the bottle down on the bar.

Harry smirked and dropped a ten next to it. "You can keep the change, love," he said as he grabbed the water and twisted the cap off.

I didn't even try to hide that I was rolling my eyes. Niall had just come up beside him and said something under his breath. Harry shot another smirk at me and sauntered off.

"Interesting," I commented.

Niall looked slightly perplexed, a stark contrast to the arrogance he wore. "What's that?"

I shrugged. "That you can just mutter something at him and he disappears. If I liked you enough I would say you should teach me that trick," I said. "And speaking of tricks, how exactly did you not only find me on Twitter but also send me a message when I'm not following you?" The words came out before I could stop them. But really, what did I care.

"What do you mean?" he asked. I opened my mouth to explain but he didn't allow any time for the words to form. "You're followin' me," he said.

Of course I knew that. I clearly recalled making that uninformed decision. But I pulled my eyebrows together anyway. "Am I?" He nodded. "Finger must've slipped," I replied. "You gonna answer my question?"

"What're ya doin' tonight?" he asked instead as I grabbed a towel to wipe the ring of moisture on the bar from the bottle of water I'd given to Harry.

I tossed the towel underneath the counter. "Not you."

His expression didn't so much as twitch. "Got a lunch break?" he inquired next.

"In about an hour, but if you're going to ask if I want to get something to eat, I'm not interested." I grabbed the bill that Harry and left on the bar and turned to put in the register.

When I turned back, Niall was gone, but he'd left something on bar. I crossed the few steps to the bar and grabbed it. A key card.

Room 401.

"What a dick," I mumbled to myself as I pocketed the key.

Over the next forty minutes a few people trickled in and then out again, and during that time I had managed to forget about the offer in my pocket. But then there were only two people left and they were at a table in the corner. I knew them as regulars and they would sit there for a couple hours, not bothering anyone as long as their drinks were refreshed in about an hour.

It was almost my lunch time when Travis, the other bartender for the afternoon, finally showed himself. I knew he'd been around for about an hour, but he's also an aspiring chef and spends a lot of time in the kitchen when the bar is on the slower side. And when he emerged, it was with a sandwich he'd made for me. I dubbed him an angel as he shooed me off.

The weather was still gorgeous so I found a table outside and sat. I hadn't opened the sandwich yet when I felt the key card stab me through my pants. I reached for it and stared at it for just a minute. Not long enough to really think about it, but long enough to make a decision. Or a mistake. There's a lot of ways you could look at it.

I stood, depositing the wrapped sandwich into my purse, and headed toward the hotel. My lunch was only thirty minutes, I reminded myself. I wouldn't have sex with him, I told myself. I had already been good and fucked by Aaron. I wouldn't have sex with Niall, I repeated to myself all the way to the room. I didn't need to have sex with Niall.

Of course I knew, as soon I slipped that key into the door, that I was probably lying to myself. Maybe I didn't need to have sex with Niall, but I sure as hell wanted to.