LOL #3 Romantic Comedy Anthology Read online

“The storm must have taken down the cell tower,” I said, half to myself. I looked out the window. I could hear the wind howling, even in here, and the trees around the filling station were shielding us from the worst of it. “It must be bad out there.” Then I shook my head. No big deal. I was about to go home anyway. “You’ll have to pay cash,” I told him. “The card machine won’t work without a signal.”

  He looked in his wallet. “I don’t have enough.”

  I grabbed the snacks. “Then no snacks. Goodnight.”

  He rolled his eyes and looked at the ceiling. “Couldn’t I just, like, owe you the money or something? I could pay you back on Monday.”

  “I’m not loaning you money!” I said, as if offended. Because I didn’t want to tell the truth, which was that I needed every dollar in my wallet to pay my power bill.

  He nodded. He’d lost his grin. “You don’t like me very much, do you?”

  That stopped me cold. Now I felt guilty. It wasn’t that I didn’t like him, exactly. I mean, I hated him, but not him, as such. I hated what he represented. I hated the idea of Jarrett West, the privileged rich kid with the girls fawning over him. I didn’t hate the guy who was right in front of me, especially now I’d actually talked to him for the first time. And, now that I took another look at those deep blue eyes and his full lower lip… . I flushed. He was alarmingly good looking. “Not… exactly,” I hedged.

  He nodded thoughtfully, as if chewing on that answer.

  I stuffed the snacks back on the shelves while I waited for him to leave. But instead, he stood there by the door, as if waiting for me. “What?” I asked.

  “I, uh… .I gotta ask you a favor.”

  I blinked. What could I possibly do for him? Coach him in physics? Shine his cleats?

  “I’m kinda stuck here. My buddies took off and I was gonna call my dad for a ride, but now there’s no signal.”

  I sighed. It was five miles into Mustang Falls. I couldn’t expect him to walk.

  “Fine,” I said. “I’ll give you a ride into town. My car’s out—”

  I broke off as I glanced through the window at my car. My dark, lifeless car. Hadn’t I left the headlights on?

  “Oh shit,” I said. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!” I raced outside, gasping as the cold air hit me. I hauled open the door of my old station wagon and turned the key.

  Nothing happened.

  “Damnit!” I thumped the dash. “You idiot!” I yelled at Jarrett. “The battery’s dead!”

  He blinked. “How is that my fault?!”

  “I left the lights on while I was locking up! They drained the battery while we were inside!”

  He frowned. “We were only inside a few minutes. What kind of battery does it have, a double-A?”

  That put me on the defensive. It’s not my fault I’m poor! “It’s old, okay? And not all of us can just afford new battery every—every—”

  “Couple of years,” he said helpfully.

  “Yeah!” I flushed. I hated anyone noticing how hard up I was. The truth was, I couldn’t even have afforded the car on my own. I only had it because its previous owner had traded up to a brand new pick-up when she moved to Mustang Falls and got married. She’d warned me that it had a tendency to skid in the winter, and that it struggled to get up a hill, but for the short journey to college each day it suited me just fine. I wouldn’t have been able to hold down the filling station job without it. I’d insisted on paying Emily, its owner, for it, even though she tried to give it to me. I’d been going to her astronomy talks and she must have guessed from my clothes that I was struggling.

  He sighed. “Well, I can push-start you. ‘Least I can do, since you’re giving me a ride.”

  I left the lights in the store on, because it would have been completely dark without them. The road the filling station was on was unlit and we were deep in the forest, here. It was common for an hour to go by without a car passing, at this time of year.

  Jarrett got behind the car and started to push. There wasn’t a lot to do, until we got moving, so I sat in the driver’s seat, watching him in the rear view mirror.

  Just, you know, to check that he was okay.

  His padded coat was thick, but I could still see the solid shape of his shoulders as he heaved, the thick swell of his forearms. They probably felt really good, when he wrapped them around one of his cheerleaders. All sort of strong and safe and protective. Or maybe, if you were in a different kind of a mood, all sort of powerful and in control.

  I felt a hot ripple run down from my face, blossoming outward as it hit my groin. It had been a year since my boyfriend and I split up. High school sweethearts, we’d ended it amicably when he moved to Cheyenne. But staying friends didn’t make up for the empty place in my heart… or the indescribable, inner itch that couldn’t quite be satisfied, no matter how creative I got with my fingers under the covers.

  The car started to move and I jerked back to the present, reddening. Had I really just been thinking about Jarrett in that way? I mean, yes, he was super-hot but it was in an unattainable, glossy sort of a way, like a Ferrari or a racehorse.

  A really big, muscled, powerful racehorse—

  Oh, get a grip! Now I really did redden. All he cared about was football and parties and girls—and not girls like me. Girls like Georgina, with her mane of golden locks and her jutting breasts and her flouncy little skirts.

  “Try it now!” yelled Jarrett.

  We were moving at a good speed towards the far wall of the filling station’s forecourt. I turned the key and there was a single, sullen click. I hit the brakes before we slammed into the wall.

  “No problem,” said Jarrett gamely. “We’ll just do it again. Backwards is as good as forward.”

  He walked around in front of the car and grinned at me through the window. In spite of myself, I felt a little flutter in my chest, as if he was seeing me off at the end of a date. Heading home after seeing a movie together, and then later maybe he’d call or text and tomorrow we could—

  Don’t be stupid! Even if I was the sort of rich, pretty girl he was interested in, that wasn’t the way Jarrett’s relationships worked. He’d have a fling with a girl, they’d be the talk of the college for a few weeks and then he’d split with her and start on the next one. He was using them, as far as I could see. And yet there never seemed to be any shortage of girls willing to join the line.

  I put the car into reverse. Jarrett leaned low over the hood and started to push and, this time, his face was a lot closer to mine. I saw his jaw set and the muscles stand out in his neck as he heaved. His eyes closed for a second as he concentrated and it was easy to imagine him on top of me, grunting like that, eyes closed as he pushed forward with his hips and filled me.

  I squeezed my thighs together. We picked up speed and I turned the key again. This time, there wasn’t even a click. I braked again.

  Jarrett took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair. “Don’t worry,” he said. “We’ll get it.”

  We tried five more times, back and forth. He was always sure that the next try would be the one. Had his blessed life made him that optimistic? Or was he, for some reason, reluctant to admit failure in front of me? Why? Why would he care what I thought?

  I finally called a halt. “It isn’t going to happen,” I told him.

  He was panting. “It’s fine,” he said. “Just give me a minute and we’ll go again.”

  “It’s okay,” I said.

  “I’ve push-started plenty of cars,” he said defensively. “Just last week, I got Hannah’s car started. And Linda’s pick-up. And old Mrs. Murray’s caddy!” He looked troubled. “This doesn’t normally happen.”

  “Relax! It doesn’t mean anything! It’s just my car. It needs a very special touch.”

  That didn’t seem to appease him.

  “The starter motor’s really old,” I said. “It sometimes takes a while even with the battery working. Sometimes I’m there for ages, fiddling away.”

  That
seemed to make him feel better. “Really?”

  “Really. Can we go inside? I’m freezing.”

  We hurried inside. The store was still warm compared to outdoors, but it was definitely colder than it had been. Most of the heated air had bled out because we kept opening the door. I turned the heaters back on and hugged my arms around myself. “So what now?” I asked. “No phone. No car.”

  He rubbed his chin. “I’ll guess we have to stay here ‘till morning, then catch a ride into town when someone stops by.”

  I felt my eyes go wide. “Stay here together?!” It was only a little past ten. We didn’t officially open until eight, so no one was liable to stop by before then. Ten hours stuck in a room with him?!

  “Am I that bad company?” he asked.

  I felt myself redden yet again. Now I felt rude. “I just mean… I don’t know you,” I said.

  “You could get to know me.” Another of those infuriating grins.

  “No. Absolutely not. We can walk it. It’s only five miles.”

  “It’s minus twenty out there. You walk it!”

  He had a point. The road into town was unlit. By now, the snow by the side of the road would be three or four feet deep and, if we walked along the road itself, we’d be roadkill if a truck came by.

  “Look,” he said, “we have everything we need right here. Heat. Light. Food. Water.” He plucked a family-sized bag of chips off the shelf.

  “You’ve got to pay for those,” I said automatically.

  He blinked at me. “You’re kidding, right?”

  I shook my head. “It’ll come out of my wages.”

  He dug out his wallet and passed me his credit card again.

  “Card machine’s down, remember? How much cash do you have?”

  “A dollar thirty-six.”

  I grabbed a small pack of peanuts off the shelf. “That’ll buy you these.” I tossed them to him.

  “Do you always take your job so seriously?”

  I felt my face go hot with anger. Everything’s so easy for him! “At least—” I broke off.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “No, what?” He took a step towards me. “‘At least I have a job?’ Was that what you were going to say?”

  I shrugged.

  “I help out on my dad’s ranch!”

  I nodded and shrugged, turning away.

  “What?” He grabbed my shoulder and turned me to face him.

  “Nothing!” I blustered. “Who cares what I think?”

  He looked at me seriously. “I do.”

  I frowned and shook off his hand. “Fine. Just that… you know. You don’t need the cash, do you? If you don’t show up for work, or you do a half-ass job, your dad’s not going to fire you. Would he even notice?”

  Jarrett looked distant for a moment. “No. No, he probably wouldn’t,” he said quietly. It was the first time I’d ever heard him speak quietly. He was normally yelling and hollering, like the other goons.

  Funny, but he didn’t seem quite like the other goons, now I’d gotten to know him.

  I couldn’t resist asking. “You don’t get on with your dad?”

  Now it was his time to shrug. “We get on fine. Just… you know. I don’t think he remembers I exist, most of the time. I mean… he’s busy.” He gave me a grin at the end, just to show that it was no big deal, that it didn’t matter.

  I didn’t buy it for a second. I knew what it was like to be ignored, although not by parents. Maybe things weren’t so easy for him. “He won’t come looking, if you don’t go home tonight?”

  Jarrett shook his head. “Yours?”

  “No.” I didn’t elaborate. I didn’t make a big deal of living on my own. I hadn’t wanted anyone’s pity back when my mom was ill and I didn’t want it now she was gone. I was twenty-one, only a year younger than Jarrett, and I figured that was plenty old enough to look after myself, and that it was no one’s business but my own. “What about your friends? Won’t they wonder where their snacks are?”

  He considered. “More likely they’ll assume I hooked up with someone and decided not to come. I like to keep things flexible.”

  I was standing close to one of the heaters and it had warmed up enough now that there was a hot current of air. I folded down my hood and took off my wool hat, letting the hot air thaw my cheeks. When I looked up, Jarrett was looking at me strangely. “What?” I asked.

  “You should have come to the party,” he said.

  I shook my head.

  “Why not? Why wouldn’t you want to have fun?”

  Could he really be that oblivious? Did he really not understand? “It’s not the same, for me, Jarrett,” I said tiredly. “You don’t know what it’s like to… to not have anyone ask you to dance.”

  He looked a little pained at that. Guilty, even. “I’d have asked you to dance.”

  It was suddenly very quiet in the store, and it hit me how close he was. A little part of me thought that maybe this wasn’t so bad, spending a night talking to him. We could get to know each other and play word games and things.

  And things.

  Don’t be stupid.

  “We should switch on the TV,” I said. “See what they’re saying about the blizzard.” I hurried over to the counter.

  At that instant, the lights went out.

  I turned to look up at the ceiling in amazement, only to catch my foot on the corner of a display stand. I crashed to the floor in the pitch blackness and cried out in pain.

  “Are you okay?” Jarrett’s voice.

  “No!” I yelled. My ankle was throbbing and my hand hurt where I’d caught myself on the freezing tiles.

  “Shit! I’m coming! Where are you?” I heard him walking towards me. I glanced around in the blackness. There was nothing, nothing at all. The sky outside was completely covered in snow clouds so there was no moonlight or starlight. The darkness was suffocating—I couldn’t tell if the world ended a mile away or right in front of my eyes and lips.

  “I’m here,” said a voice right next to me and I screamed.

  “Jesus! Don’t sneak up!” I yelled.

  “I didn’t! I’m here! Where are you?” And then an open hand landed on my stomach, lifted—

  And landed on my breast.

  I drew in my breath to scream again, out of instinct, but the hand was instantly snatched away. “Shit! Sorry! I didn’t realize you were on your back!” He sounded genuinely aghast.

  I lay there stunned for a second and then muttered “It’s okay.” Because I felt I had to say something. In my mind, the feeling of him touching my breast was replaying and replaying on endless loop. The big, solid hand settling on my softness. The heat of his palm throbbing through my coat and sweater and t-shirt and bra and straight into my flesh as if there was nothing separating us at all. A hot wave of helpless desire soaking downward through my body, pooling in my groin. I could feel my nipple hard and throbbing, even though the hand was no longer there.

  I sat up, breathing hard.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked.

  That at least gave me something else to focus on. “My ankle is,” I said. I moved it gingerly. “Ow!”

  “Let me have a feel.”

  “I’m not letting you feel my legs!” I said. I was relieved that I managed to sound aghast, and that the darkness hid my flushed cheeks.

  “Your ankle! Come on, if it’s broken or something we need to know.”

  If it was broken, what the hell were we going to do? Try to flag down a passing truck?

  One thing at a time. “Fine,” I said.

  His hand groped for my foot—much more carefully, this time. He found my sneaker and then slowly closed around my ankle. “This one?”

  “Yes.”

  He started to squeeze his way slowly along the bone, pushing my jean cuff up as he did it. His touch was methodical, not languid. It didn’t feel like it was intended to be sexual. And yet the movement of his hand along my leg felt like the most erotic thin
g I’d ever experienced, his fingers leaving a tingling trail in their wake.

  He reached the point where it hurt and I gasped.

  “Yeah, that’s okay. Not a sprain. Just a bruise,” he told me.

  “How do you know?”

  “I’m majoring in human physiology and sports rehab.”

  I said nothing, but my shocked silence was a comment all on its own.

  “What did you think I was majoring in?” he asked with a laugh. “Football? I’m not that good. I’m not NFL material. I gotta do something when I graduate. I figure I’ll try to get into coaching, or physiotherapy. Or personal training, if I have to.”

  “Oh.” It was all I could think of to say.

  He laughed again. “You think I’m just a dumb jock, don’t you?”

  “No!” I was rapidly realizing that he wasn’t. I was starting to realize I’d misjudged him and the guilt was chewing at me. It’s not my fault I’m poor; it’s not his fault he’s rich, either.

  I started to carefully get to my feet.

  “Wait, what are you doing?”

  “I’m going to go get a flashlight,” I said.

  “Your ankle’s hurt. Let me go.” There was real concern in his voice, and it made that treacherous flutter return to my chest. Don’t be silly. He’s into cheerleaders, not science majors. Don’t go getting some sort of a crush on him. But I already was crushing on him, and badly. “I know my way around this place better,” I told him.

  “Yeah, I saw that from the way you tripped up.”

  “That display stand took me by surprise. I’ll be fine now. I know exactly where I am.” I started to stand again, and tried to work out where I was.

  “At least crawl on your hands and knees. Then you can’t trip over.”

  He had a point. And I didn’t particularly want to put my weight on my ankle. “Fine,” I muttered. “If you insist.” I got down on my hands and knees.

  And suddenly, I was aware that I was on my hands and knees. With him just a few feet behind me. I mean, he couldn’t see me, but he was… there. I could feel the thin denim stretched tight over my raised ass cheeks, and the way my breasts hung down, pushing out my coat. A sort of hot squirm went through me.

  “I’m going now,” I told him.