Raging Fires by Candace Camp
Chapter Seventeen
Jake made it easy for her the next couple of weeks. And Kelli knew it was really stupid that she somehow resented that. What was the matter with her that he was even more on her mind all the time now that he was no longer bugging her? She didn’t want him teasing her. She didn’t like his weird off-the-wall comments. It was good not to have engage in the sniping they always did.
Okay, it was annoying that he’d put himself in charge of her security, but he hadn’t argued with her about it, just kept showing up at the bar every night at closing time. It seemed pretty stupid to complain about it when he was going out of his way to do something nice for her. And, really, though she would never have admitted it to him, she had always felt a little uneasy walking to her car at night after closing, and the house was even farther away than her car had been.
The problem, she decided, was that without Jake teasing and annoying her, she wasn’t distracted from the unwelcome thoughts of him that plagued her. She was far too likely to notice all the sexy things he did, and she couldn’t chase them away without any irritation to drive her. Like the way he didn’t shower and shave at home, but he still smelled of his shaving cream and cologne when he came home.
And if he showered at home, he used her products, and somehow she found that kind of exciting, too. When he showered at home, she kept picturing him naked, the water sluicing over his body. It wasn’t hard to do because she knew that body, knew every line of his muscles, every ridge of his rib cage. The way his wide shoulders tapered down to his slim waist and hips. The grooves slanting across his lower abdomen that she used to trace with her fingers down to slip her hand between his legs. How he felt in her hands, hard and hot.
Then there was the way he slept, all sprawled out on his stomach, sheet strategically covering his butt, and it was always such a temptation to slide that sheet a little lower. And even though of course she never did, it was embarrassing that she thought about it. What was the matter with her? You’d think she was a teen with the hots for her first boyfriend—or, really, the hots for Jake because he was the only guy she’d dated that she ever felt that much desire for.
It always caused a little catch in her chest when she walked into the kitchen in the morning and saw Jake standing there in his shorts, shirt off, feet bare, eyes still cloudy with sleep and his hair tangled. And if he smiled at her in greeting in that lazy manner, it was like a shock straight through, setting all her nerves dancing and damp heat spreading between her legs.
She couldn’t see that Jake was having any problems keeping to their rules. She would have thought that he would have more trouble with it than she did; as she remembered, he had always been willing and eager, easily turned on. Obviously he’d changed. Or maybe he just wasn’t turned on by her anymore.
Which was good. It would have been a terrible situation if he was always hitting on her. Touching her, kissing her, reminding her of when they’d spent a whole Saturday in bed, talking and kissing and caressing, making lazy love, or recalling the first time they’d had sex, so stereotypically in his car because they couldn’t wait long enough to drive home.
Sometimes it was on the tip of her tongue to ask him if he even remembered that time. She did. She remembered every detail—that white-and-blue striped sundress with the full skirt that had made it so easy, the white sandals she’d kicked off to crawl across the middle console, the sound of him laying the driver’s seat all the way back so there was room for both of them, the blue ribbon she’d wound through her thick braid of hair that he had teased apart and run his fingers through. He’d worn a blue shirt, and when he had first picked her up, they had laughed because their clothes matched.
There hadn’t been any laughing in the car later, though. Not even when she’d straddled him and he’d pulled her panties to the side and her butt had hit the steering wheel, honking the horn. They’d both been too intent on what was happening. The heat, the friction, the rhythm. That sound hadn’t had any hope of penetrating their haze. Even now, Kelli could remember exactly how it had started. Jake had squeezed her knee when he asked her a question, then left it there. Wetness had bloomed between her legs as he had moved his hand up her thigh. Her sharp intake of breath and involuntary moan had obviously urged him further and soon his fingertips had grazed against her underwear.
“Pull over,” she’d told him.
He didn’t have to ask why. It had felt inevitable from the moment he’d picked her up. She couldn’t remember what else they’d been planning to do, because all she could remember thinking about that night was how much she wanted to feel him inside of her. And it had been even better than she’d ever imagined.
But of course Kelli hadn’t asked Jake if he remembered. It would have been nuts to stir up any old memories. They were doing so well now, living together and being apart.
The worst times were the nights she wasn’t working at the bar. Then she and Jake were alone together, and there was only so much housework one could do in a house this size, especially with Jake actually picking up his messes and washing his dishes. The silence when they were alone together set her nerves on edge.
That was why one evening she suddenly said, “You want to watch Netflix?”
She knew it was a mistake when she said it and realized it even more when Jake, sitting on his bed in his nook studying his playbook, looked up, his eyebrows rising. “What?”
Kelli could feel the blush rising in her cheeks. Well, at least she hadn’t said, ‘Netflix and chill,’ but what if he took it that way anyway? Hurriedly she said, “I mean, I was going to watch a series or something, and it’s kind of hard to get away from the noise in here, so I thought maybe I should watch something you wanted to see, too.” She grabbed the remote to cover her nerves.
“Okay,” he said slowly. “Sure. What are you going to watch?” He stood up and ambled to the couch, sitting down as far away from her as he could.
“I don’t know. Something you’d like to watch, too. Um, maybe an old horror movie?” It had been one of the things they agreed on, and they’d had a cheesy horror movie night for years. But maybe that had been the wrong thing to say, too. It carried a lot of old memories. “Or whatever.”
“Okay,” he said again in that same careful voice.
Why had she suggested this? Kelli jumped up, putting the control down on the couch between them. “Here, you choose one. I’m going to make some popcorn. You want popcorn?”
And that, too, was something they always did, but she had to escape for a moment and put a better lock on her nerves. She zipped around the kitchen, opening and closing three cabinets before she found the popcorn—which was right next to the rice where she always kept it—and sticking it in the microwave, then taking it back out to remove the plastic around it and putting it in again. She got out bowls. Better if they each had their own container instead of sharing the way they used to, her snuggled up against his side, his arm around her.
God, that would feel good. And, she had to admit, it wasn’t just because she wanted his body heat. Speaking of, she still needed to mention the temperature in the house to him. They’d been getting along so well recently and she hadn’t wanted to start a fight, but it was getting old. She’d had to start sleeping in full flannel PJs and it wasn’t comfortable.
“I notice you have the A/C set to Antarctica again. Do you think we could raise it a little so I don’t have to wear a parka during the movie?”
“I was wondering how long you were going to hold your tongue about it being a comfortable temperature in here.” Jake grinned.
“Comfortable? It’s not even 70 degrees! You’re from Phoenix. How is that comfortable for you?”
“Because I’m from Phoenix. We like our A/C.”
“The energy bill certainly doesn’t like it.”
“I’ll pay the bill.” He shrugged like it was no problem. Which, for him, it obviously wasn’t.
“No. We split it. Just like roommates.”
“Hey, if you want to waste your hard-earned money on my A/C, I’m not gonna argue with you.”
It was stupid. He had the money. Kelli didn’t. But it would be too couple-y to let him pay for it. And that was a slippery slope. Especially when she already kept staring at his arms, and his hair, and his lips. Kelli wished there was some part of him she didn’t find attractive so she could just stare at that. Why couldn’t he have a big mole or a skinny moustache?
“Can we split the difference and raise it to 74? Still too cold for me, not cold enough for you?”
“Sounds perfect. That way neither one of us is happy.” He grinned. “And if it gets too hot, I’ll just whip off my shirt.”
Sitting on that little couch with a shirtless Jake? That would be a recipe for disaster. Especially if he really was hot. And a little sweaty. She’d be licking his abs instead of eating popcorn.
“I’ll do 72 for the movie if we can do 76 for sleeping.”
“Deal.” He gave her a sly smile.
Yep. He’d definitely be sleeping shirtless tonight. She was not going to think about such things.
“So, you want a classic?” Jake asked. “Jason? Freddie? How about that zombie cheerleader thing? That was so bad.”
“Whatever you want,” Kelli responded brightly. God, she sounded like a one of those ultra-perky restaurant hostesses. “I’m just going to run to the bathroom real quick first. Why don’t you put on one of the Halloweens?”
“Sounds good to me.” Jake picked up the remote. “You ever notice how you always say ‘whatever you want’ right before you make the decision yourself?”
“No.” She raised her eyebrows, “Just another thing that I do that bugs you, I guess.”
“Nah.” He smiled. “It’s actually pretty funny.”
Kelli’s stomach did a little backflip at his grin and she quickly escaped to the bathroom. She busied herself by washing her hands. She hadn’t even needed to go to the bathroom, but she couldn’t stop thinking about Jake shirtless and he was being so nice and accommodating. Why was he not getting all pissed off about the A/C stuff like he used to? He was just joking around and being utterly irresistible.
Everything seemed like too much right now. Too new and exciting and too old and comfortable at the same time. She pulled in a deep calming breath and let it out. This wasn’t important. There was no reason to be nervous. Just a couple of roommates hanging out watching a dumb movie.
When she came back out, she saw that the Halloween Jake had settled on was H20. She sat down on the couch as casually as she could while also calculating what distance was far enough away that their arms wouldn’t bump together, but not so far away that Jake could tell she was nervous that their arms would bump together.
“Why do we always skip three through six?” Kelli said, just to have something to break the tension in the air. She wondered if she was the only one that felt it. “I mean, we've watched the original, two and H20 way more times than the others.”
“Mostly because H20 is the first one that I found that was streaming. But also because the ones with Jamie Lee Curtis are the best.”
“You just like her because she has big boobs.” Kelli relaxed a little. Needling Jake was something that was fully comfortable, and not in a scary ‘falling into old habits’ way.
“JLC is a bad ass and the ultimate scream queen.” Jake took a handful of his popcorn and washed it down with a swig of coke. “And she has very nice breasts.”
“See! I knew it!” Kelli shook her head. “But you’re not wrong—the new movie with her was really good.” She didn’t add that she’d waited until the it was out of the theater to watch it because she couldn’t stand the idea of not having Jake’s hand to hold in case of a jump scare. And that even at home she’d thought about him the entire time she’d watched it. “Plus, I guess three through six are pretty terrible even for bad horror movies. Not to mention confusing with all the retconning.” Kelli didn’t really care about the continuity of the series, but it had been one of their long-running jokes when they watched horror.
“H20 does a fair amount of retconning, too.” Jake shrugged. “But at least it doesn’t make you wonder what drugs the filmmakers were on and where can you get some to make it through your viewing.”
Kelli laughed. “True. And I guess the new one also ignored everything but the original,” she conceded.
“Yeah. People just want to get back to the good stuff.” Jake glanced at her sideways, the light from the TV dancing across his handsome face. Suddenly Kelli’s stomach was doing the jumping thing all over again.
“You can't just ignore all the bad stuff and expect the good stuff to stay good,” Kelli said so softly that Jake had to lean in a bit to hear her over the noise in the opening scene.
“You can in Hollywood, apparently.” His low tone was even softer than hers, but with the gravelly edge she’d always found so sexy. Kelli forced herself to lean back to her side of the couch.
“Well, I guess there's a reason people prefer fiction to real life.” She crossed her arms over her chest and fell silent as they watched the movie.
But it had been about ten years since she’d watched any of the old Halloweens and part of the fun of watching terrible movies was making fun of their inconsistencies. They might as well be watching an Oscar winner if she was going to have to stay completely silent. So about thirty minutes in, she finally gave up.
“So was it canon that Michael Meyers’ mask was actually a William Shatner mask?” Kelli asked as Jamie Lee Curtis strolled the school campus in the boring-boxy-neutrals-look that had for some reason been so popular in the nineties. “Like are we supposed to believe this kid bought a Shatner mask and some white spray paint, then at 8 years old proceeded to—”
“Six years old.” Jake corrected.
“Six?” Kelli exclaimed. “A six-year-old can't carve a pumpkin without maiming themselves. We're supposed to believe he killed his older sister with a butcher knife and didn't at least lose a thumb?”
“Maybe he was destined to become the greatest pumpkin carver of all time and his family was forcing him to work with one of those little neon plastic carving tools. That's why he killed them on Halloween.” A mischievous twinkle made Jake’s eyes irresistible even in near darkness. “He was like, ‘Screw this, knives or nothing!’”
“Ah, Halloween: the tale of the homicidal Michelangelo of pumpkins... it's so obvious, why did I never see it before?” Kelli grabbed a handful of popcorn.
“Anyway, he was wearing a clown costume when he was six. The Shatner mask wasn't until he escaped from the institution.”
“What about the mechanic coveralls? Are they the same ones in every movie? Like the doctors let him keep them in his room at the insane asylum? They’re just hanging there in the closet next to his spare hospital gowns?”
“Okay. I'm going to pause this.” Jake shook his head like he was annoyed, but the smile on his face said otherwise. “The reason you have to ask so many questions in this movie is because you spent all the time watching the other movies asking other questions.”
“I take offense at that.”
“You're telling me you don't talk throughout movies? To the point that I just started waiting until they weren't in theaters anymore because I was tired of being shushed?”
“No. I'm not saying I don't do it. I just take offense at getting told I do something that I do.” Kelli laughed.
“Don't we all?” Jake pointed at Michael frozen onscreen. “We don’t ever see how the mask came to be. He never painted it himself. He got it when he broke into the hardware store in the first movie.”
“A hardware store was selling William Shatner masks that were spray painted white and had the hair arranged like their main form of styling implement was ‘ungrounded live wire?’”
“Apparently it was a very specialized store.” Jake laughed. “And as far as the coveralls go, I think he's killed multiple truckers and mechanics over the years.”
“Gotta keep that aesthetic consistent.” Kelli pulled the bowl of popcorn into her lap. “I just feel bad for all the mechanics and truckers who died just because Michael wanted to cop their look. Okay. Done now.”
“Famous last words.” Jake smirked but he turned the movie back on.
After a good five minutes of uninterrupted screen time, Kelli grabbed the remote from him and paused again.
“Really?” Jake shook his head.
“What? I paused it this time.” She fluttered her lashes innocently. “Come on, there are things I need to know.”
“Fine.” Jake laughed. “What is your current pressing inquiry?”
“Why are they still making these masks after so many years? Their entire prospective customers base seems to be one solitary serial killer who only replenishes his supply every couple of decades—and even then he always steals them! Doesn't seem like a real lucrative business model.” Kelly raised her eyebrows.
“Maybe that was what movie three was trying to explain.” Jake laughed. “The masks?”
“Was that the point of three? I thought it was to drive people to drink,” Kelly shot back.
“Little known fact, Halloween 3 was actually made by the liquor lobby.” Jake added. “So do you want to watch this movie or just hate on everything in the series starting from the very premise of the first film? Because I can just leave it paused and let you riff all night.”
“What are you talking about? I love these movies. I just enjoy making you crazy more.”
“Your life must be one unending party then.” Jake grinned. “But how do you still have new questions? We've watched all these movies at least twice. And each time you have a new stream of questions.
“You don't understand how I have questions?” Kelli raised her eyebrows. “There's a thorn cult, then there's not a thorn cult. Michael kills his sister, then Laurie is his other sister, then she's not his sister at all.”
“Okay.” Jake nodded. “You’re right. I retract my complaint.”
“And that's not even getting into the Rob Zombie reboot.”
“What reboot?” Jake opened his eyes wide.
“The one that we saw at the campus theater in college. The one we would have asked for a refund for if it hadn’t been free?”
“I have no idea what you're talking about. What's a Rob Zombie? I think I'm going to have to give Dr. Loomis a call; you're talking crazy.”
“Oh, shut up!” Kelli threw a kernel of popcorn that hadn’t popped at him.
“Oww.” Jake frowned. “That’s spousal abuse.”
“I’ll show you spousal abuse.” Kelli gave him a mock glare.
“Oh, will you? I’d like to see that.” Jake’s grin was wicked and he leaned in close. “I do have to admit I have a pressing question myself.” His voice was a whisper against her skin.
“What’s that?” Kelli could barely get the words out. All she could think of was how good Jake smelled and how very close his lips were to her neck. “What the hell is up with Josh Hartnett’s hair?” He leaned back to his side of the couch, and Kelli did her best to feel relieved. But all she really felt was disappointed.