Discovering Us (True Love Trilogy) Read online

  But Jag and I talked or texted almost every day when we were apart and also sent cards and silly stuff to each other regularly. In the spirit of, well, school spirit, I’d sent him a penis-shaped pillow as a mascot and he’d sent me a bumper sticker that said “I Love ‘Cocks” which, after several arguments, I finally succumbed to Dad’s refusal of letting me put it on my car.

  I’d finally graduated high school and planned on attending Northwestern in the fall. I’d taken concurrent courses my senior year, so I’d knocked out several of the basics and was well on my way to getting into the physical therapy program by my junior year. Rebecca wanted to be a nurse anesthetist, so we’d both be taking several of the same science classes when it came to our degrees.

  First semester, we drove to our classes together since we both lived at home, but after we’d proven with our grades that we were serious about this college stuff, our parents let us get an apartment together, and it was awesome! We felt so grown up. We both got jobs at the Starbucks in Norris Center, so at least we were trying to help our parents out with the bills some.

  Jag had been excited for me though he hadn’t gotten to see my new place, but I’d emailed him gobs of pictures of it. I quickly found that living in the apartment made me miss him even more because Rebecca and Ross were still dating which meant Ross spent the night regularly. He was attending Northwestern also and majoring in criminal justice. So I had to deal with watching them being all lovey-dovey while my celibate, virgin self pined for my boyfriend. Good times.

  “El! We’re going to the party at Slade’s house tonight. Come with us!” Rebecca called from her bedroom.

  So Slade Ryan was holding another party, eh? Hm. Slade was a guy we worked with at Starbuck’s who was our age and also attended Northwestern. Rebecca and I had decided that he was forbidden fruit. He was just too damned cute with his surfer-boy look, shaggy blond hair, tanned skin and gorgeous green eyes. Oh, and when he smiled, the dimples in his cheeks were like an inch deep showing off his perfectly straight, white teeth. See? Totally cute. And talk about a flirt. The guy had to hold the Guinness record for most hours of nonstop flirting ever.

  “Can’t. Jag’s gonna be calling soon,” I hollered back from where I sat on the sofa watching TV.

  I heard her growl and spit out a few choice words, informing me under her breath that it was a Friday night and it shouldn’t be wasted in front of the TV, all of which I ignored.

  Rebecca was worried about me. I stayed in almost every night waiting for Jag to call. Therefore, she and I went through the same routine over and over:

  Come out with us, El!

  Can’t. Jag’s gonna call.

  You can go one night without talking to him.

  I know, but I don’t want to.

  You think he’s not going out down there? That he’s being a good little boyfriend?

  *blank stare*

  I’m sorry, El. I wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings. I just want you to have a life outside of Jag.

  I do have a life.

  *snort* Yeah, in class, at work or hanging at home waiting for him to call. You’re always waiting.

  Just because I don’t go out and drink copious amounts of adult beverages doesn’t mean I don’t have a life. *scowl*

  *eye roll* Whatever.

  And round and round it went.

  At least I got a lot of studying done. Whoopee.

  So after Rebecca and Ross left, I waited for Jag to call. And waited. And waited. And then waited some more. I knew he didn’t have a game that night or any over the weekend, so that couldn’t have been what was holding him up. By ten o’clock, I’d had it with the waiting and called him.

  “Hello. You’ve reached the very sexy Jagger Jensen’s phone,” answered a sultry female voice. “How can I help you?”

  I was a little stunned to say the least. I could hear the sounds of a party going on in the background. Thank God it wasn’t quiet which would’ve led me to believe that Jag was alone with this chick. “Is Jag around?”

  “And who may I say is calling?” the deeply accented voice asked.

  Ah. A real live Southern belle. And all I could think of at that moment was Prissy screaming in her baby voice, “I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout birthin’ babies!” for some stupid ass reason. Ugh. Memory retention. It’s a fine thing.

  “Tell him it’s Ellen.”

  “Helen?” she said in a smooth, snarky drawl.

  I knew she’d heard my name correctly, had probably seen it on his caller ID before she’d answered. Whatever. “Ellen. Ellen Love.”

  “Oh. Ellen? Well, Jag’s never mentioned having a friend named Ellen. Let me see if he wants to take your call. I was using his phone to make my own call when you interrupted,” her sweeter-than-pie voice dragged out.

  It took everything I had not to answer, “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.” I mean, how many times in life do you get to even use that line much less have it set up so perfectly? Sad thing was, Ms. Magnolia probably wouldn’t have cottoned on to what I’d done there, so better to withhold than to waste a golden opportunity on an idiot, I always say.

  Now, I didn’t think Jag would cheat on me. And if he were going to cheat, I didn’t think it’d be that blatant, so in my face. So Little Ms. Thang, whoever she was, had just happened to get his phone and I’d called at just the right time. It happened. Nothing to beat her face in about. This time. I snorted to myself at this lovely thought.

  “Hello?” I heard Jag yell into the phone.

  “Yeah. What’s up?”

  “El? Hang on. I can’t hear you.”

  I heard the music getting quieter as he moved from wherever the party was. I heard him fumbling around with the phone before he asked, “El?”

  “Yeah.” Now, I said I didn’t think he’d cheat on me. I didn’t say it didn’t piss me off that some little twerp was answering his phone.

  “What’s going on?”

  “I was wondering the same,” I said, deadpan.

  “Sorry about that. Wendy’s kind of…”

  “A bitch?”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, you could say that. I’m sorry. She asked to use my phone to call her boyfriend when you called.”

  “Where are you?” I asked.

  “Just at Doug and Jason’s apartment. What’re you doing?”

  “Well, I could be out partying myself, but I decided to stay home and wait for your call.”

  “Party? Where?” he asked with an edge to his voice.

  Oh, no. Uh uh. He did not get to go all possessive on me after what’d just occurred. “Just to a party with Rebecca and Ross. It’s not like I’d be loaning my phone out to guys who’d answer it if you happened to call…”

  “El, I didn’t plan it that way. I was going to call you later. It’s Friday, so I didn’t think you’d go to bed until after midnight.”

  “What’d you think I’d be doing, Jag? Sometimes I feel like all I do is sit around and wait for you to call.”

  “We’ve talked about this before, El. I don’t expect you to wait around. Go do things. Hang out with your friends.”

  So, Mr. Possessive Alpha Male was telling me this after he’d just about bitten my head off when I told him about a party?

  “Do you ever get tired of it, Jag?”

  He sighed. “Tired of what, El?” He knew what I was going to say.

  “Just… being apart.” It’d been almost three months since we’d seen each other at Christmas.

  He was quiet for a few beats. “Yeah, I get tired of it. I want you here with me. I want to be with you, El, but we both know that’s not gonna happen right now. We’ve got a lot going on. Why? Are you getting tired of it?”

  I sighed now. I was tired of it. I wanted him here with me. Home. Away from Wendy and her Ya-Ya Sisterhood crew. But it wasn’t Jag’s fault. It was no one’s fault. It was just life. “No. I mean, yeah, I’m tired of not seeing you, of course. I’m tired of random chicks answering your phone.”


  “That happened once,” he scoffed.

  “And if it happens again?”

  “Not gonna happen again. Trust, El. We’ve got to trust each other.”

  “Yeah. So if I went ahead and went to a party with Rebecca and Ross tonight, would you trust me?”

  I could hear him take a deep breath then let it out. “El, it’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s all those horny bastards who’d be checking you out that I don’t trust.”

  “Oh, so you can go out, but I should stay home and just learn to deal with all the horny bitches wanting a piece of you then, right? That’s what you’re saying?”

  “I don’t wanna fight, El.”

  “Who’s fighting, Jag?” My voice level had increased and my blood pressure was spiking, I was sure, but who was fighting?

  “Well, this isn’t exactly not fighting,” he said with a chuckle.

  “I’m sorry. It just pisses me off sometimes, hell all the time, that we’re apart. And it doesn’t help seeing Rebecca and Ross together day in and day out. It’s just not fair.”

  “I know, babe, but there’s nothing we can do about it right now. I’m sorry.”

  It was my turn to take a deep breath and release it. “I know. I’m sorry too.”

  We sat there being silent together.

  “El?”

  “Yeah?”

  “If it helps, I love you. Forever and a day.”

  And leave it to him to turn things around. “I love you too, Jag. Always,” I whispered.

  We hung up having made it over that little snag. But I’d made up my mind that I was going to start living my life more, stop waiting around, and have fun. Because Rebecca had told me I wasn’t. And because Jag just told me I should. I went to my bathroom and dug through my makeup.

  “Okay, going for dramatic tonight,” I declared. After making my eyes smoky, I poufed my hair big. Not bad. I was ecstatic to see that I wasn’t totally helpless in the looking like a girl department.

  I headed to my bedroom and looked through my closet, finding some nice jeans and a cute little navy, peplum blouse with a back zip to wear, pairing that with Rebecca’s five-inch sparkly navy heels and I was good to go.

  Chapter 9

  I was still nineteen when I when I got a taste of the party life on my own.

  I arrived at Slade’s party looking pretty good, if I did say so myself. It was nice to dress up for a change in the evening instead of resorting to baggy sweatpants and an old t-shirt while I waited around for Jag to call. When Rebecca saw me, she all but pounced on me.

  “El! Oh my God! I’m so glad you’re here!” she squealed hugging me.

  My teeth clacked in my head as she jumped up and down clinging to me. “Um, how about you calm down now?” I said with a snort putting my hands on her shoulders to keep her still.

  “But we haven’t gone out together in forever! I’m just so happy to see you here!” she said beaming at me.

  If that’s all it took to make my bestie happy, then I was good with it. I put a finger on the rim of her cup tilting it down to peek inside it. “What’s your poison?”

  “Rocket Fuel.”

  “Bec.” I raised an eyebrow at her.

  “El.” She snickered, giving me the same look.

  The last time she’d gone to a party at Slade’s, she’d come home with Ross so drunk she could hardly walk. Apparently, this Rocket Fuel was a concoction that was made up of beer, lemonade and vodka with a bit of Everclear thrown in for good measure that was meant to knock you on your ass, which she’d proven loud and clear. Loud because listening to her that night puking in the bathroom had been awesome (not), and clear because the whole next day she’d looked like hammered shit.

  “I’ll pass.”

  “No! You have to try it!”

  I narrowed my eyes at her as she shoved her cup in my face. But when I took a sip, it actually was pretty good. I raised my eyebrows and puckered out my lips making my assessment. “Not bad.”

  “Told you! Let’s go get you a cup.”

  We wended our way through the gobs of people to the screen-enclosed back porch where there was, swear to God, what looked like a freaking horse tank full of the drink. I slowly turned my head and looked at Rebecca all You’ve got to be shitting me. She giggled and grabbed a cup for me, dipping it into the pool of liquor. Wow.

  “Is this even sanitary?” I asked.

  “This batch is. Last party, some guy was so messed up that I guess he took a piss in it.”

  My face blanched and I pulled my cup away from my lips. “Uh.”

  Rebecca laughed. “Just drink it, El. I watched them make it. It’s cool.”

  “Still can’t be too clean with people dipping their cups in, you know. I mean, it’s kinda like double dipping and that’s just gross. Ew, and what if their nasty fingers get all in it?”

  Rebecca gave me a look. “El, it’s alcohol not friggin’ holy water. Jeez. Drink.”

  So I did, trying not to think about everyone’s and their dog’s germs floating around in the damn pool, hoping that the Everclear would at least kill some of the germs. I downed what was in my cup quickly, hoping it’d take effect and I’d stop worrying about all the various diseases I could be contracting.

  We walked over to where Ross was talking to some guys who’d gone to our high school and when they saw me, all of them wanted to know how Jag was doing. I told them that his team was flying to Texas for three conference games the next week when all of a sudden I was picked up from behind, twirled around and mugged by a pair of lips on my neck.

  “Baby doll!” Slade said as he set me down, spinning me to him, a huge grin on his face as he looked down at me.

  “Hey Slade!” I grinned back. God, he was too cute.

  He leaned down to put his forehead on mine, wrapping his arms around my waist. “’Bout time you came to one of my soirees.”

  Now, if I’d been observant, I’d have noticed the four or five cameras that’d come out to gather evidence. But as it was, I was completely oblivious, the liquor already taking effect and the charisma that all but gushed from Slade overtaking me. “Soiree, huh? Pretty fancy title for a place where people ladle their libations from a lagoon,” I pulled back and said.

  Slade threw his head back and laughed then looked down at me, eyes twinkling. “God, you’re adorable. When are you gonna go out with me?”

  I laughed. “When you quit trying so hard.” I smirked up at him.

  He nodded as if seriously taking that in making me roll my eyes. “You’re empty,” he said looking in my cup. “Let’s go partake from the pond, shall we?” he said with a snort then laced an arm around my shoulders and led me away.

  Slade was particularly charming and kept me entertained for most of the night with his crazy sense of humor and his constant attention, and I had to admit, although a little guiltily, that it was nice being the object of someone’s attention for a change.

  At the end of the night, we sat on the back porch in a swing. “El, let’s make a toast,” he said.

  “To what?” I asked with a drunken snort.

  “To us.” He clinked his cup against mine.

  “Uh, to us,” I echoed then drank, at that point not giving one shit whether I’d wake up with hand, foot and mouth disease from consuming from the communal cauldron.

  “So why haven’t we ever gotten together?” he asked.

  “Maybe because I have a boyfriend?”

  “Oh. That. Well, he’s not here now…”

  “Slade…”

  “Oh, lighten up, El. You only live once, you know.”

  “Yeah, and I’m definitely putting that to the test by drinking this shit.” I held up my cup giving a nod toward it.

  He laughed. “Gotta live dangerously too.”

  “And this is proof positive that I’m doing just that,” I said laughing with him.

  “So, who is this guy again? Rebecca has told me a little about him.”

  “Jag Jensen. We’ve been best
friends since I was five and he was seven.”

  “Daaaaaang, that’s a long time to know someone.”

  I nodded agreeing with him that it was a long time.

  “So what are the chances that you’d ever leave his ass behind and go out with me?” He looked at me, sporting that cuter than hell smile, dimples and all, which just about knocked me out of the swing, his green eyes glittering in the moonlight.

  I chuckled. “I’d have to say slim to none.” I was in love with Jag. It wasn’t like some cute beach boy was going to change that anytime too soon.

  He nodded as he looked at me, his eyes burning into mine as he smoothed a piece of my hair off my face. Whoa. This was getting a little too serious. “So you’re saying there’s a chance?” He then grinned at his movie line quote, his serious look a faded memory. Thank God.

  I almost did a spit take at that, having been caught up in the seriousness for a second or two. I should’ve known Slade would make things silly again like he always did. It was definitely part of his appeal. We laughed then quoted more of the movie lines like the drunken idiots that we were.

  When the party ended, Ross wouldn’t let me drive home, so he rounded up Rebecca and me, enduring our giggling fits, and piled us into his old Bronco, mumbling something about Rebecca being the designated driver the next three parties, that putting up with this shit made her owe him big time, which made us laugh even harder.

  “That was fun!” I said from the back seat.

  “See? I told you!” Rebecca said from the front. “What were you and Slide up to?”