Home for the Weekend Read Online Free Page A

realized how hungry I was until now. We chose a small booth in the corner that was beside a window, it looked out at the opposite side of the building. People were walking by quickly, and the streets were lit with headlights and Christmas lights, shop signs and traffic lights. They were filled the loud buzzing that accompanies a large city. Concrete jungle really is the only way to describe it. Had it been day time, there may have even been people hanging from telephone poles.
    “So why did you leave?” Jesse asked.
    “What?”
    “You said you left early from your visit home. Why’d you leave early?” He sipped the glass of ice water that sat in front of him, and a short woman with dark hair and large eyes came to take our order. “Can we have the fiesta platter please?”
    “Yes, anything to drink?”
    “I’m fine with water… Chaste?” He asked.
    “I’m good too, thanks.” I waited until she walked away before I spoke again. “You can call me Chastity if you want, I like it more than Chaste anyway.”
    “Oh. Yeah, my bad.”
    “No it’s fine, just preference.” I smiled and stared at my glass deciding how to word what I wanted to say. “I left because I slept with my step-brother.”
    I wasn’t really sure why I told him. Maybe because I didn’t know him, he didn’t know Ian, or his father. Sometimes it’s easier to tell a complete stranger your darkest secret than it is your best, and most loyal friend. Upon my admission Jesse sputtered his water, and had to hold his fist to his mouth for a second. I grinned bitterly at my water glass.
    “Don’t worry, we didn’t grow up together or anything.” I said. “Our parents married when we were teenagers. He was in a boarding school, and then went to college. I only saw him a handful of times before…”
    “You slept together?” He asked.
    “No, well… yes. Sort of. It’s hard to explain.” I shook my head in mild disgust with myself. “If his father ever found out… he’d kill me.”
    “It can’t be that bad. Not if you didn’t even know each other.” He said as the waitress came by and filled our water glasses and placed a tray of tortilla chips and salsa between us. “Thanks.” He said to her, with a bright smile that turned her cheeks pink.
    “It is in that family.” I sighed. “Jesus. I’m really sorry; I shouldn’t have brought this up. Can we talk about something else?”
    “Sure.” He grinned.
    He was lounging back in the small booth , his handsome features were accentuated by the dim lights around us, and I felt a small flutter in my stomach at the memory of having sex with this man less than two hours ago.
    “Where are you from?” I asked him.
    “Oregon.” He said easily, still grinning.
    “Oh, I’ve never been there. What’s it like?”
    “It’s sort of the West Virginia of the West Coast.” He kidded, again making me laugh.
    “Did you go cow tipping? Or make potato shooters?” I ginned at him as I sipped my water, being careful to not mess up my lip stick.
    “No, but I went mudding a lot, and got into a lot of troub le for fire crackers and racing.”
    “Mudding?”
    “You know, you take your truck out to the best mud holes and just drive like a maniac.” He winked at me. “I bet you’ve done it thousands of times.”
    “Oh…yeah, hundreds at least.” I said, waving my hand. “It sounds kind of fun.”
    “It is.” He took a long swallow from his glass, and leaned over the table, his elbows pointed at me, and I noticed he had what looked like tribal tattoos on the backs of his arms, but I wasn’t sure. “I’ll take you sometime.”
    “Oh I’m sure there are plenty of mudding holes here in LA.” I rolled my eyes playfully.
    “No, but road trips are fun.”
    “True.” I smiled. “Did I just make a friend?”
    “Yep.”
    “So tell me… Jesse James?” I lifted my eyebrow as I slid a chip through the bowl of salsa.
    “It’s my real name.” He said easily.
    “You’re kidding!” I