Shark Out of Water (Grab Your Pole, #3) (30 page)

Her friend said that all guys are selfish and it was just a fact of life that she herself, Mia, and the rest of the female population would just have to learn to accept. That didn’t sit well with me, but it wasn’t until I opened my mouth and put my two cents in on behalf of the men living on Earth that I got their attention. I did it by saying that what her friend had said was an unfair generalization; we’re not all selfish and we’re not mind readers either. It was unintentional on my part and what started as a mild discussion of
Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus
ended with Mia not being willing to accept that “fact of life” by using me to prove my own point, so to speak.

Mia looked at me and asked what I meant about the mind reading thing so I explained that, in my opinion, it’s irrational to expect
anyone,
whether they be male or female, to know that what they’re doing is right or wrong if they’re not told one way or the other and given the opportunity to make amends if it’s warranted, and it’s not like girls come with an instruction manual and that they don’t exactly spell shit out, so most guys are floundering around in the dark, trying to feel their way around the mystery of what girls want from them. So, with that making sense to her and taking a moment to study me, Mia decided she would do a little experiment to see if what I said was true, and in appreciation of learning where girls might be at fault in the battle of the sexes, she rewarded me by taking it upon herself to turn the light on for me. I didn’t object. Obviously. I mean come on, I was
twelve
. What twelve-year-old guy is gonna say no to having sex for the first time with a hot sixteen-year-old girl? But it was more than just having sex. When I say she turned the light on, I mean exactly that. She told me
everything
and she didn’t pull any punches. Actually, neither of us did.

I remember, word for word, what she said that night directly before our first “lesson”… “I’m going to give you the tools in which you can choose to use them to become the greatest legend of our time, or, the biggest fucking asshole since Lucifer gave Eve the apple.
But
, choose wisely, because even though she ate it first, Eve took Adam down with her and a woman will do the same thing to you if you’re not careful with the gifts being given to you. So, now that I’ve said that, let’s get down to business…bring it on…” And being the energizer bunny that she is, that lesson didn’t end until well after the sun came up.

From the very beginning, it was decided we would be brutally honest with each other. If one of us said or did something the other didn’t like, we said so with the understanding that it wasn’t meant to be hurtful or judgmental. It was an opportunity to get it right. And we would speak our minds if there was something one of us wanted or particularly liked too. It was a forum to learn and practice without emotional risk. So we began. We were both pleased to discover I had some natural inclinations so she didn’t have to walk me through too much of the initial physical shit, but she most certainly opened the vault on the mystery of girls and taught me an assload about how to read between the lines of what a girl might be saying and not saying, what they really mean when they say something obscure, and ultimately, how to become the embodiment of what every girl fantasizes about in a guy. But she also explained that not all girls are the same and I’d need to pick up on the differences in subtle, silent messages they’d give and learn to adapt if I wanted to be successful.
And
, I learned to appreciate, value, and most importantly,
respect
girls. Well, most of them anyway…I have a big issue with chicks who don’t respect me, so it’s kind of a two-way street in my book.

I also learned some basic self-preservation skills, like how to go about letting a girl know upfront that I’m not interested in anything more than the present without hurting her feelings or making her want to seek revenge on me after the fact. In addition, Mia taught me how to recognize warning signs of the potential stalkers, the desperate girls who I might feel bad for but would only end up hurting in some way, and, the emotional basket cases who I really wanna avoid playing the game with at all costs.

Some of that is why I’ve completely shied away from taking a girl’s virginity. I’ve had the opportunity, but usually for a girl, losing her virginity is way different than it is for a guy. Now this is a generalization, but like how Jeff described his first real kiss, the only thing most guys are concerned with their first time having sex is that they’re actually doing it and the hope that they get to do it again. Soon. However, for a girl, heavy emotions are involved. They usually want or need to really know the guy, have feelings for him that are reciprocated, trust and feel safe with him, and so on. It’s a big deal and it’s too easy for a misplaced attachment to be formed, and that’s one of those things I try to avoid because it would end up being hurtful in the end. Besides, most girls usually prefer to have whoever they give it up to stick around for more than an hour or two afterwards. I’m not a hit it and quit it kind of guy, but I don’t wanna have breakfast in bed either. Well, that doesn’t apply to Camie. She’s the exception.

I didn’t really put it into words for Camie that night in the desert when I told her I wouldn’t get her naked, partly because having her naked would’ve been pure, unadulterated torture for me at the time, and I might’ve chosen to abandon my personal tenet on the subject of girls and the first time they have sex. But honestly, I really do feel very strongly about the manner in which a girl loses her virginity and it’s just not something I feel should be taken lightly, and in my opinion, having sex for the first time isn’t a decision that should be made under the influence of me or an ingested substance. I guess you can look at it as my way of choosing wisely and trying to stay in Eve’s good graces…

Anyway, that’s how it started and there’s absolutely never been any strings attached to either of us but, we had rules...like
Fight Club
. The first rule was you don’t talk about what you do with anyone. Period. The second rule…you
don’t
talk about what you do with anyone. Rumors of conquests and the like
might
be good for one of the people involved but usually, running your mouth about the shit you do in private is the fastest way to cause drama and horrific problems for one or both of you and it’s a hell of a lot harder for a girl to overcome a bad reputation than it is for a guy. Now, Jeff knows a little because he’s a fuckin’ dick and likes to ask me shit when I’m practically comatose, and Kate knows what Jeff tells her, but Pete? Well, Pete knows a lot…and there’s just nothing I can do about that, however, he typically doesn’t question me and
all three
of them know better than to enlighten the masses, so I just pretend like they don’t know shit. And yeah, now and then I might mention some general stuff to people I think I can trust, but even so, I’ve never been specific about the who that stuff was done with. I also have a tendency to not play in my own backyard. I’m not stupid…working twenty minutes away at a beach that’s frequented year-round by locals and tourists alike has more than the one advantage of being able to walk twenty feet to go surfing after your shift is over, which makes keeping my private life out of the school’s gossip column and rules number one and two quite a bit easier to manage.

Another rule of ours was that Mia and I would never “sleep” together. For one thing, Mia doesn’t really sleep, but that was actually my rule and I’ve held to it with every girl I’ve ever been with up until Camie. Now, that’s not to say I haven’t slept while Mia was cleaning her apartment or reading a book, or that I haven’t passed out next to a chick,
or
two, but it’s different. In my mind, true sleeping is highly intimate. Plus, I’m an admitted and unabashed snuggler, which makes me feel sorta vulnerable…almost like a baby. To put it plainly, I just didn’t wanna wake up next to someone I didn’t care very deeply about. And the only reason I took that nap with Camie that day at the beach was because even though I barely knew her, I still
knew
her. Deep down, I knew her and it just felt
right
. So yeah, I was saving my sleeping self for love. Call me oddly sentimental or eccentric maybe, but, there it is.

And one other thing Mia and I lived by was that if we happened to find ourselves in public or at the same social event, a careful offer could be made, as was the case when I sabotaged Melissa, but if one of us wasn’t up for it for
any
reason, that was that. Again, period. No explanation, no whining, no begging, no tantrums, no jealousy, no hurt feelings, no guilt trips, and no grudges. And that was actually the easy part because the relationship we had was purely physical. Yes, we’re friends and we’ve had P-L-E-N-T-Y of deep, lay it all out there kinds of conversations and through those we’ve come to honestly care about each other as much as close friends would. In fact, Mia could be considered a female Jeff to me and I trust her implicitly but, again, through those conversations we know without a doubt that neither of us has
ever
looked at the other and wished it was more.

We’re
very
similar in behavior, but not in the way that makes us compatible outside of the sexual realm. Plus, we don’t want the same things from life. Basically, over the years Mia and I have discovered we’re sort of kindred spirits, but where she’s perfectly happy to be a gypsy when it comes to relationships with a deep belief that people aren’t meant to be monogamous, I’ve always felt that there’s somebody out there specifically meant for me and I’ve been looking for that somebody; for who Mia, after watching
Hot Tub Time Machine
one too many times, now calls my Great White Buffalo. I’ll admit I actually considered Ted Nugent’s song by that title for Camie’s first ringtone, but, I really don’t like the song and the title alone, funny and applicable as it is, wasn’t worth it.

So, knowing all that, hopefully you can see it’s not that Mia’s the devil and I’m worried about running into her or being tempted to go off and screw her for days on end, but still keeping to the rules, I’ve never told Camie a single
thing
about Mia. I was going to, at some point, because I know she’s curious and I didn’t really wanna keep things from her, however, and it might sound like a copout but, Camie…well, Camie gets distinctly nervous about this kind of stuff as well as about my past and her insecurity makes her a little jealous. Plus, she has a temper which can lead to arguments I just don’t wanna have with her or anyone really, so it was kind of a timing issue I guess. Because honestly, it’s not like explaining Mia to her, which would take planning and a vast amount of delicacy, was something I could really do before or after our fight that one night when the student became the teacher and we really started to open up, or, at the breakfast table or on the drive to school the next morning.

So, as Mia walked up to Brandon and me, I prayed like holy hell Mia hadn’t let anything slip about knowing me in any way, because I know my baby…she’d start asking questions about how and Mia? Well, she might not answer them directly, but, she might’ve asked some of her own questions in return and again, I know my baby; she’d end up answering them. Only, she’d be giving incorrect answers to the one person who, without having to look at me or talk to me, would know those answers are wrong. I just hope that if Camie did happen to say anything in front of Mia that Mia knows me well enough to know that if I’m letting Camie believe lies, I’m doing it for a reason and that she doesn’t get involved or try to correct those answers.

There, deep breath…my freakout is over.

“Hello, lover. It’s nice to see you too,” Mia said with amusement at having visually caught my whole reaction to seeing her, which had me rolling my eyes.

“Hello, sweetheart,” I replied genuinely and gave her a small smile.

Yeah, that’s right. I called her sweetheart. Because when you spend a decent amount of time with a girl with or without clothes, they inevitably end up seeing the ugly side of you that your own mother would have a hard time accepting, and then when they still care enough about you to essentially bear the brunt of your idiosyncrasies, shitty attitudes and foul mood swings without question or complaint, they get to be called sweetheart and other silly terms of endearment. And believe me, I’m not always the nicest of guys so after five and a half years of dealing with my shit, Mia’s earned it. Of course, had Camie been anywhere in earshot I probably wouldn’t have even said hi, but truth be told, if it weren’t for Camie, Mia would’ve gotten a kiss too.

And she knows it. The sparkle in her eyes and her answering smile told me she understands exactly why my lips didn’t come anywhere near her and she’s cool with it, but that also means she definitely met Camie and knows who she is. Then she transferred her admittedly alluring gaze to Brandon who looked to be a little amused with the greeting process between Mia and me. Again, I don’t blame him. He knows I’m in love with Camie and here I am completely okay with being called lover by another chick and calling her sweetheart in return…but again, five and a half years of dealin’ with each other’s shit. That’s all I’m sayin’.

“Well don’t you look fun…” she said in observation, which was actually just this side of an almost blatant invitation to go play.

Poor guy. Brandon definitely falls into the category of guys who’d know what that was about and what to do on the playground, but his denigrated expression told me he was disappointed in himself. You see, any which way you look at it, even when she’s not trying, there isn’t much about Mia’s physical appearance that isn’t arousing in some way. I swear it’s like she was built with seduction in mind. She’s got jet black hair that doesn’t reach her shoulders—she calls it sassy and flirty; I call it short—her lips are kinda pouty and provocative unless she’s smiling, which somehow always comes across looking erotic too, and her eyes are an emerald green color that ooze suggestion at every glance and give the term bedroom eyes new meaning. She’s about 5’9” and her body is sleek like a cat’s with curves in all the right places, and even if she were wearing a fuckin’ paper sack she would look like she just slid off the cover of
Penthouse
. But being in a similar boat as he is, it was clear to me that Brandon wasn’t affected by her in the
slightest
and I had to work hard to keep my sympathy from showing on my face when he just stared blankly at her and blandly said, “Likewise.”