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Authors: Joelle Charming

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BOOK: Breathe Again
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“Nothing,” he said, finally opening his eyes. They were still
dark, but there was something else there, something I didn’t comprehend.
“Everything.”

I pulled my hands away, as if he had literally shocked me
with his words. “What do you mean?”

“Mellie, I . . .” he said, drifting off, just looking at me.
His hands were on my shoulders, but he wrapped them around me and pulled me to
his chest. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Okay,” I said, trying to force my hands between us to push
him away, but he wouldn’t let me. “What the hell was that about then? Why would
you do that if you didn’t want to?”

I heard a strangled laugh come from his throat. “Oh believe
me, I wanted to. I still want to. It’s taking everything I have not to keep
touching you. But I shouldn’t. It isn’t good for you.”

“Um, I have to disagree?” I said, remembering the feel of his
lips on mine and the electricity that seemed to run directly from him into me.

“Me,” he said, holding me away so he could look into my eyes.
“It’s me. That’s what’s not good for you.”

I sighed, realizing what he was trying to say. This time I
was able to get my hands between us, and pushed him away before I hopped off
the counter and stepped into my shoes.

“I get it, Jackson. And I have to agree with you on that one.
But this isn’t fair. You come in, all sexy, with your tight jeans and muscles
and blue eyes, and you seduce me into assaulting you in my kitchen. That’s not
fair. If you don’t want it, then fine. Just leave me alone.”

I was angry. I couldn’t help it. For the past five days I’d
been daydreaming of him, never actually imagining that anything would happen
between us. I let myself daydream because I knew there wouldn’t be anything
between us. But then he came and invaded my safe space, after a shitty day at that,
and now he wanted to take it all back. Because he didn’t think he was good for
me.

I was about to call bullshit when he laughed. He actually
laughed at me, and I just glared back at him. He kept laughing, and started
walking toward where I now stood on the other side of the kitchen. I watched
him through narrowed eyes, glancing at the back door, actually wondering if I
could get away from him fast enough.

I knew it would never work, so I just stood there with my
arms crossed and huffed out a breath. He didn’t take his eyes off me, and he
brushed a piece of my hair off my face when he got to where I stood.

“What?” I said, trying to insert as much venom into my voice
as I could.

“You think I’m sexy,” he said, smirking again.

I just gaped at him. “No shit, you jerk. I didn’t ask for you
to come find me, you know. But you did, and now here we are, and you’ve kind of
fucked up the little bubble I live in and I’m not really sure what to do about
it.” I heard him groan, which surprised me. “What?” I said again, still
annoyed.

“I have a thing for women that swear. It’s really hot.”

Okay, now I was really annoyed. “Well, here you go. Get the
fuck out of my kitchen. And don’t come back.”

He didn’t do as I said. He just pushed me up against the
fridge and shoved his tongue back into my mouth. And I most definitely didn’t
stop him.

After what seemed like an eternity, we slowed. Our arms were
wrapped around each other, and he nuzzled me with his face in my hair.

“Now,” he said, in between kisses behind my ears and on my
neck, “about that date . . .”

CHAPTER 6

I had no idea what the hell I was
thinking. I knew it was a terrible, terrible idea, but there I was, putting on
my makeup and glaring at the dress on my bed like it was a bomb that was about
to explode and destroy my perfectly boring life.

I bought a new dress for the occasion. I couldn’t help
myself, knowing that I could be seen in public with Jackson. He warned me about
that multiple times, even tried to get me to say no once. But when I finally
did say no, annoyed that he was playing mind games with me, he refused to let
me out of his arms until I agreed.

There was a knock at my door and I glanced at the clock. It
was only a quarter after six, and Jackson wasn’t supposed to be picking me up
until seven. I knotted the belt of my robe around my waist and headed to the
door.

“Who is it?” I called out, though I knew it could only be a
handful of people. The stairs up to my door were in the back of the kitchen,
and we always kept the back door to the café locked.

“It’s Josephine. Let me in,” she called back through the
door. I twisted the knob and let my cousin into the loft.

“Hey, lady. What’s up,” I said, making my way back to my
vanity so I could finish getting ready. I knew she’d follow me.

“Oh, nothing,” she said, moving my dress so she could sit on
my bed.

I glanced at her through the mirror. “Don’t waste my time,
Josephine. What’s going on?”

She smirked at my expression. Jackson didn’t always put me in
a good mood, apparently. Oh, and I was nervous as shit.

“I heard about Thursday, and after seeing you get all primped
and ready to go, I’m going to assume you’re seeing him again tonight.”

I sighed. “He wouldn’t let me say no,” I said, trying to
convince myself as much as I was trying to convince her.

She pursed her lips. “I don’t believe in excuses, Mel, and I
don’t blame you for saying yes, either. I may not be into men, but Jackson
Traver is one fine specimen of a human being. Even I would probably make an
exception for him.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that. There was a time when we
couldn’t joke about her ‘lifestyle,’ as my family put it. Selden wasn’t unused
to scandal. My hometown was so small that it was difficult to keep any private
business really private, and it definitely wasn’t unaccustomed to the occasional
rumor regarding the sexual exploits of its youth. When mistakes were made, they
were dealt with quickly and efficiently. Shotgun weddings followed by the
premature birth of an eight-pound baby were so common that they rarely even
caused a second thought.

When my aunt Margaret found Josephine in bed with her college
roommate, however, she wished the solution were that simple. Instead, the
entire town watched as Josephine was sent to the nearest Christian treatment
center. For three months, my aunt Margaret prayed that her daughter would
overcome her deviant sexual behavior and finally realize God’s true purpose for
her life. Instead, Josephine came home with a new haircut and a new girlfriend.

I was fifteen and naive when my favorite cousin was forced
from my life. I didn’t understand why Josephine left so suddenly, and without
saying good-bye. It wasn’t until years later, when I finally confronted my
mother about it, that I found out she had been told to leave and never come
back. She wasn’t even given a chance to pack her things.

It was too late to mend our relationship by then. Almost
three years had passed, and I hadn’t done anything to reach out to my cousin. I
was afraid that Josephine, outspoken and stubborn, would refuse to forgive me
for abandoning her too.

But when my carefully constructed life began falling to
pieces around me, I didn’t really have anyone else to turn to. So I called the
number I got from Josephine’s younger brother, Paul, the only person in the
family who still spoke to Josephine, and asked her for help. After asking me if
I was still the best baker in the family, Josephine immediately offered me a
job making pastries and desserts at Olive Sweet, and even offered me her loft.
I couldn’t have been more grateful.

“I can’t disagree with you on that one,” I said at
Josephine’s somewhat crude description of Jackson. “And he is one hell of a
kisser.”

“I never imagined you to be the type to fall for a movie
star. Fawning over celebrities isn’t exactly your style,” Josephine said.

“You’re right. It’s not. Or I thought it wasn’t.”

Josephine studied me for a moment. “Darcy’s been talking.
Apparently Jenn was the one who directed Jackson to the kitchen the other
night. I told them both that they better keep their mouths shut, and that
they’ll have to answer to me if they say anything, but I can’t guarantee
anything.”

“Thanks, Josephine,” I said softly, catching her eye in the
mirror.

“I know that you would only be dating him if you had a good
reason to be dating him, and dating him just because he’s a celebrity isn’t a
good reason. But I don’t want you to get hurt. So be careful.”

Even though we’d barely spoken in the previous eight years,
it was as if time didn’t matter. I was a lot like my cousin. We were both
tenacious and severely realistic, and we both knew we had too much potential to
throw it all away.

“I just like him, is all. There’s an attraction there, sure,
but it’s more than that. I can’t really figure out just what yet, but I will.”

“I know,” Josephine said reassuringly. “It’s obvious you like
him, and maybe you should just give him a chance. He seems like a good guy.”

I smiled. “He is. I’m just still trying to figure it all
out.”

“There’s nothing to figure out,” Josephine said, completely
serious. “Don’t overthink this. Don’t overreact. You won’t make another
mistake, I promise.”

I snorted. “Right,” I said, unconvinced.

“Have you told your parents yet?

“Are you seriously asking me that question right now?” I
asked. Josephine just raised an eyebrow. “Have you talked to your parents
lately?”

“Touché,” Josephine said.

“If this dating thing does work out, it’s only a matter of
time. The paparazzi are like vultures, and he’s warned me what could happen.”

Josephine nodded in agreement. “You’re probably right. Maybe
you should call your dad first. He might at least answer the phone when you
call.”

I looked up at my cousin. “How did you do it?” I asked. I
tried not to think about it too much, but sometimes the pain caused by being
completely ostracized by my family threatened to overwhelm me.

“Do what?”

“How did you deal with having to give up your family, just so
you could be yourself?” I asked.

Josephine smiled sadly. “I didn’t deal with it. During my first
six months living here, I filled the void of not having a family by sleeping
with every woman I met. I made the rash decision to buy a café I couldn’t
afford. And a car I couldn’t afford. And a new set of boobs I couldn’t afford.
But it was by doing these things that I finally realized that I could do it on
my own. I needed to screw up a little so that I could concentrate on fixing
things. It took my mind off of everything that had happened back home, and I
threw myself into my work. Now I’m happy, successful. I can afford the things I
was about to give up just six years ago. I love my life.”

“So, what you’re saying is that I need to sleep around a lot
and buy myself a car?” I asked, only half-serious.

“Maybe,” Josephine said, laughing. “Maybe not. I think you
need to find your own way to deal with it. Just don’t hold it inside.”

“But why not?” I asked. “Lord knows I’m good at holding it
in.”

“It may be true that you’re good at it, but that doesn’t mean
that it’s good for you.”

I laughed. “When did you become so wise, Josephine? I think I
remember you once saying that Grandma Jean had white hair because she ate
cottage cheese with every meal. Wow, how times have changed,” I said.

“Excuse me, but I believe I was eleven when I said that. My
brother wasn’t nearly as nice to me as James was to you. Thomas also told me
that if I picked my nose my brain would fall out and that the characters in TV
shows lived inside the television,” Josephine said defensively.

It was true. I remembered the long summer days when my
siblings and I, along with all of our nine cousins, would play in the tree house
behind our grandmother’s house, telling each other ridiculous stories to see
who was the most gullible.

“But in all seriousness,” Josephine said, interrupting my
thoughts. “Everything will be fine. All that matters is that you’re happy. If
your parents and my parents can’t see that, then they don’t matter.”

I smiled. “Thanks, Josephine. I needed that.”

“Of course,” Josephine said, smiling back. “And look at it
this way: at least you’ll never be the least favorite in the family.”

“Why would you say that?” I asked, confused.

“Because at least Jackson has a penis.”

CHAPTER 7

Jackson picked me up at exactly ten to
seven that night, only two days after he found me in the kitchen. I dressed
simply, wearing the same eyeliner and red lipstick that I always did, but let
my hair down in curls. My new dress was light blue with polka dots, and a
modest halter top with a sweetheart neckline. It was funky and slightly retro
looking, perfect for the summer weather we were having.

“Hello, Jackson,” I said as I opened the door.

“Um, hi, Mellie,” he said, a little awkwardly. I almost
giggled like a schoolgirl at his greeting, but I managed to keep my composure.
“These are for you.” He held out a bouquet of poppies, the flowers a shade of
bright, cherry red. A simple sheet of brown paper wrapped around the two dozen
stems held the bouquet together. “They reminded me of you.”

I looked at him curiously for a moment before accepting the
gift. Red was my favorite color, sure, but I didn’t remember ever telling him.
“Thank you,” I said, taking the flowers from his outstretched hand.

“They’re the same color as the lipstick you always wear. It’s
beautiful on you, but I can’t help but admit you’re beautiful without it too.”

My eyes widened. Nobody ever saw me without my lipstick, but then
I remembered Thursday. My lipstick could last through a lot, but that make-out
session was far too hot and heavy for even the toughest lipstick.

“Oh,” I said. I was unnerved, but tried not to let it show.
“Please, come in while I put them in water.” I held the door open for him.

He followed me into the apartment, and stayed in the living
room while I went into the kitchen to get a vase. I loved my little loft, but
the thought of having Jackson Traver standing in my modest studio apartment
made me a little self-conscious.

Once I’d put the poppies in a vase, I brought them into the
living room and placed them on the glass table next to the couch. “Thank you
again,” I said, as I adjusted the stems into a better arrangement. “They really
are beautiful.”

“Like I said, they reminded me of you.”

I didn’t look up from what I was doing; I
couldn’t
look up, not when I felt as if my heart was about to beat out of my chest. I
knew that a flush had crept up my neck, and I felt my cheeks get hot.

“Let me just grab my bag and we can go,” I said. I left him
in the living room again so I could get my purse from next to my bed.

He wouldn’t tell me where we were going, only requested that
I bring a sweater with me. Eventually I just let myself relax in the plush,
comfortable front seat of his black BMW.

“So, tell me about yourself, Mellie,” he said, as I watched
the ocean pass by. I felt silly all of a sudden that I still hadn’t made it to
the beach.

“What do you want to know?” I asked. I wasn’t exactly the
most interesting person in the world.

He turned to me and smiled. I’m pretty sure I whimpered.

“Everything.”

Well then.

“Um,” I said, still staring out at the ocean in front of us
and to the left. “My full name is Melanie Rose Devlin, my parents are Lydia and
Thomas Devlin, and I have two sisters and a brother. There’s not much more to
me than that.”

“What do you mean there’s not much more to you than that?
Your parents and family don’t define you. You are your own person, with your
own wants and fears, passions and desires. Those are the things I want to know
about.”

I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe. I was far too afraid that he
could see right through me. But if he could, he didn’t say anything. He just
watched me from the corner of his eye as I tried to become invisible in his
front seat.

“So, Melanie Rose Devlin. Mellie Rose. I like it,” he said,
his concentration back on the road. I’d never had anybody call me that before,
but I liked it. I liked the way that it rolled off his tongue, the way he made
it sound like the sweetest name in the world.

I risked a quick peek in his direction, and saw him staring
at me again.

We didn’t speak for the rest of the car ride.

I thought we would stop near the beach, since we’d been
driving next to it for almost half an hour, but instead he turned right, into
Malibu Canyon.

“I’ve never been to Malibu,” I said, really only to myself.

“I’m not surprised. I remember you telling me you didn’t get
out much.”

I laughed, and felt at ease once again. It was strange how he
had the power to do that. “You’re correct. This is a little bit further than I
can walk, I’ll admit.”

“I know you said you hadn’t been to beach yet either, so I’ll
be sure to take you there sometime too. We aren’t exactly going to the Malibu
that everybody thinks of.”

I looked at him curiously, but he just smiled. He drove for a
few more miles before turning left onto a winding street, where cars were lined
up in a makeshift parking lot along the side of the road. He passed them all
and pulled into a dirt lot, where we got out and let the valet park the car.

“Where are we?” I asked, confused.

“You’ll see.”

He took my hand and led me through an arch into what looked
like a park. It was fenced off by a wood railing, and lit by hanging lanterns
overhead. Dozens of people sat on blankets and at picnic tables, with bottles
of wine and food spread out.

“I hope you like old movies,” he said, leading me through the
crowd. Nobody seemed to notice him; they were all too busy with one another,
talking and drinking wine.

“I do,” I said, finally noticing the white screen in front of
everyone. “What are we watching tonight?”


Casablanca
, I think. One of my
favorites.”

I paused midstep and turned to look at him, surprised. “I
haven’t seen that movie since I was high school.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re here tonight, then.”

He led me to an unoccupied blanket spread on the ground, away
from the crowd, but still near the screen. Sitting on it were two additional
blankets, a bottle of wine with two glasses, and a white paper bag.

It was almost too much for me. I didn’t get to date when I
was back home, and I’d been perfectly content going to dinner at chain
restaurants and drinking commercial wine with Collin. I don’t think he put half
as much thought into either of our dates as Jackson had put into this one. If
he did it himself, that is. I knew there was a possibility that someone other
than him had planned all of this, but it was sweet. And a week before, sweet
was the last thing I was looking for.

“I hope you’re hungry, and I hope you’re okay with In-N-Out.
It’s my favorite,” he said, guiding me down to the blanket. He spread one of
the other blankets over my lap, then poured us both a glass of wine before
opening the bag. “I didn’t know what you like, so I got a few different
things.” He held out three different burgers, one of which was just a grilled
cheese sandwich. I chose the cheeseburger, and we shared an order of fries. It
was a meal I’d never had before, and even I had to admit it was something
special.

The movie started not long after we finished our food. He
stood up to throw away our trash, and when he returned to the blanket, he sat a
little closer to me than he had before. I didn’t mind. It wasn’t too cold
outside, and I still had a sweater and blanket to keep me warm, but being close
to him gave me exactly what I needed to be perfectly comfortable and warm. It
wasn’t until almost an hour into the movie that he moved the final inch so that
he could place his arm around my back.

I thought it would be uncomfortable, being so close to him.
Thursday had been so spontaneous that I hadn’t really had a chance to think
about it much when it was happening. But now, everything was premeditated,
calculated, as if he knew exactly what he was going to do long before he did
it.

It was anything and everything but uncomfortable. It felt
natural, easy, and surprisingly safe. So natural that I leaned my head on his
shoulder without even thinking about it.

My eyelids started to droop, but I felt Jackson’s lips at my
ear before I could fall asleep. “You look really beautiful tonight, Mellie
Rose.”

I turned my head to face him, but kept my cheek against his
shoulder. He was looking down at me, the expression in his eyes unreadable. And
then, so slowly I felt I might be dreaming it, he leaned down and pressed his
lips against my forehead.

“What are you thinking?” he asked softly, lifting his other
hand from behind him so he could brush away a piece of hair that had slipped
into my eyes.

“I’m thinking how perfect tonight is.” I could almost feel
his grin against my hair as he placed a light kiss on top of my head. I just
sighed and snuggled into his arms.

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