Page 4 of Jensen

I think it over and decide I probably should. When I step through the sliding back doors, she’s standing by the stove. There’s a pot of sweet tea already bubbling. I sink down in my usual place at the breakfast bar. It feels weird to not have Kyle sitting with us. His presence was akin to fungus on the side of a tree, inert, but it kept things from feeling awkward.

“How’s the shed coming along?” she asks.

“Good. On schedule.”

She crosses her arms. “I appreciate you being willing to do it without Kyle. I really think this new job could be a breakthrough for him. It’s been rough, him not having a daddy to help him get situated in the world. Of course, I know you both got that problem.”

I just nod. She comes closer and leans on the breakfast bar. My whole body prickles. I’m a late bloomer, more focused on getting myself a truck and a steady income than girls, but I know some stuff from talking to Kyle. I’ve got a pretty good idea she’s putting off signals.

I’m just not sure I want to be on the receiving end of them.

My life is carefully balanced, and she feels like she could upset it. I can’t piss off Cherry because she took me in. I can’t fuck up my relationship with Kyle because he’s my best friend.

“You got a girlfriend, Jen?” she asks.

I shake my head. “No, ma’am.”

“Why not? You’re pretty. Real handsome.”

It takes me a second to find my words again. “Um…just don’t have time. Work and all.”

She purses her lips. Then, she comes around the breakfast bar, and she’s right up on me, standing between my knees. Heat pours through my body. Things are happening whether I’m ready or not. She leans in, and I catch a flash of her big eyes and cherry coke-colored lipstick. Then, she’s kissing me, her nails gripping the front of my sweaty shirt.

I didn’t get up that morning with the intention of swiping my V-card, but I do anyway, on the floor of Miss Holly’s kitchen, my back against the cupboards. She’s naked, her clothes strewn around. She’s gorgeous like a movie star. Her hair smells good, her skin is soft, and she doesn’t mind that I’m not doing a very good job overall. She just laughs, brushing back my hair, and tells me it’s fine. We can try again later.

I could say no, get up, and leave.

But I don’t, and I don't know why.

We get our clothes on, and I can't make eye contact. Shamefaced, I put my tools away and tell her I have to be somewhere, but I can put some more hours in on the shed tomorrow.

The walk home doesn’t feel nearly as good as the walk I took to get there.

That night, I lie on my back and fight with guilt until the sun comes up. Then, I grab my shit, walk down the road, and knock on the front door, ready to confront Holly. This can never happen again.

She opens the door with two cups of coffee in her hand and nothing on but a little white nightgown. At first, she tries to pretend this is normal. We stand in the kitchen, coffee in hand, trying to make small talk. Finally, she snaps, takes my hand, and pulls meupstairs to her room. I’ve never been up here. Miss Holly’s house is weirdly nice for a woman with a part-time salon job. I always assumed she was getting big child support checks or something.

I don’t have time to think about it, because she’s stripping my clothes off, and we’re in her bed. She pushes me to sit against the quilted white headboard and rides me hard.

I feel sort of…used, but not enough to stop.

She pays me what she owes me, even though the shed’s not done. I break open the Crisco tin for the last time and count everything up. I did it. I’ve got enough. The next morning, I walk down to the used car lot and pick out a truck. It sucks that Kyle isn’t here to see me paint the logo of our business on the door.

But he’ll be back, I’m sure of it.

It’s not until the third time I sleep with Miss Holly that I start feeling something that isn’t a kick to the gut. She’s lonely, and she loves to talk afterward. I listen because I’m pretty good at that.

It’s kinda nice.

I’m too young to go out with her, can’t get into bars or clubs, so we start spending a lot of time at her house now that Kyle is staying in Lexington. I never told Cherry he moved out so she’s not suspicious. Cherry is a no-shit kind of grandmother. If she caught us, it would be over for me and Miss Holly.

The fall turns into winter. I work less, but it’s alright because I know it picks up in the spring. It’s a cold season in Kentucky, and I spend most of it between the sheets in Miss Holly’s bedroom. She knows all kinds of stuff, and I’m a quick learner. Roleplay, bondage, a little pain with our pleasure.

I’m hooked on her, to the point I hope Kyle doesn’t come back for a while.

She smokes. I start smoking too, just to taste the same thing she does.

Spring comes, and I’m back to working long days outside, but I try to see her a few times a week. We fuck and drink whiskey on the front porch when it gets warm enough to be naked outside. The shed around back is done, but she never rents it out.