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“Don’t you remember what day it is?” he asks, and even in the dimness of the room I can see the sadness etched into his brow.
What day it is?I blink, confused.
And then I realise.
It’s funny how our minds retain certain information, even if the use has long-since expired. I kind of feel bad that I hadn’t remembered sooner, but at the same time I’m high-fiving myself for almost forgetting it completely.
I look at the pendant resting in the severe dip between his pectorals and I wonder if the metal is cold from the night air, or if it’s hot from his body temperature.
He stoops down a bit, eyes all sad and sparkly as they meet mine, and he locks our gaze together.
“My dad told me about you moving in here with your mom, and I’m sorry River. I know it makes you uncomfortable. I…” He looks away and swallows, then bites his lower lip into his mouth. When his eyes meet mine again, there’s a flicker of something in them that I can’t quite distinguish in the dark. “I wish it didn’t,” he finishes, and I realise that we are now almost flush together.
I don’t even try to shove him away. I may no longer love his soul but I sure can enjoy his hot as hell body. I can’t deny it, I love looking at him. In fact, I love lookingupat him. I love tilting my neck all the way back just so that I can be met with his intimidating stare, made even darker because of the long curves of his lashes. I love breathing in the testosterone laden heat that oozes out of his pumped-up body. I may hate that I want to touch him but I love being held. Everything feels contradictory but, right now, I don’t care.
I fist his pendant and lean my forehead into his hardened chest. God that feels good. He’s been out in the rain all night and somehow his body is still volcanic. I think I mewl a little when he wraps his arms around my shoulders.
I want to cry but I don’t let myself. Instead, before I drag myself out of his arms and force myself to climbback into his bed, I sigh and nestle in further. I run my free hand around the waistband of his shorts and I feel a twinkle in my chest when he shudders against me.
My voice is barely negligible but I know that he hears me. I tear myself away and straighten my glasses before I go.
“I wish it didn’t, too,” I whisper.
And then I’m gone.
Chapter 18
Three Years Ago
I’m nervously twiddling with the baby pink tulle puffed up around my thighs as I stand by the drawn drapes in the main hall, waiting for Kit to finish readying the playlist for tonight’s Homecoming. I always knew that I was going to be coming, but I didn’t always know that I would begoing, and as the realisation fully dawns on me – I’m not just here because of the committee, but because Tate Coleson wants to be at the Homecoming Dance withme– happy butterflies nervously flit under the soft bodice of my dress.
Tate wanted me to come in the ride with him and his friends, so he didn’t like it when I told him that I wasn’t going to need picking up. Kit and I would be here from the final bell, setting up the hall with the rest of the committee. Admittedly, Ididwant to come with him – I wanted to see him suited up on my front porch, I wanted to hold his hand in the car, and I wanted to walk through the school’s doors with him as my date – but I can also breathe a little easier this way. I didn’t have to tell my mom that I have a date, let alone the fact that he’s the boy across the street who I’ve been sorta-kinda secretly dating behind her back. Also, I didn’t have to be in a confined space with Hudson, who no doubt would be coming with Tate and his friends. Hudson is a case of endless sideways glances and unnerving smirks, and Iwant to spend as little time with him as is possible, especially when I feel a little vulnerable in my outfit choice tonight.
I look down at my dress as I bite into my little coating of lip-gloss. It has a high-necked sleeveless bodice which puffs out into a small but full tutu skirt, all baby pink and shimmery. I think it’s cute, but I know how weird the people at school get when someone who no-one thinks is cutetriesto be cute. I try to block them out from my mind. Tate seems to like me and no-one else’s opinion on the situation matters.
God, I hope that he thinks I look cute tonight.
Kit hits play on the playlist and the song instantly racks through the speakers, prompting the principle to open the door to the hall and admit all of the students who have been waiting in the foyer and outside. I immediately duck from my hiding place and skirt through one of the miniature side entrances, avoiding the rush as I go to find Tate.
I’m momentarily immobilised when I notice how much more grown up all of the other girls here look. Sure, I’m only a freshman and some of these are sophomores and juniors, but why do they look so much older than me? And how thehelldid they growthose? I work my way around the foyer, sticking to the walls, until I come to the entrance and I glimpse outside.
It’s dark out but it’s mild, and Phoenix Falls’ endless drizzle seems to have ceased for the moment. I study the vehicles that are idling in the lot until I come across theI-eat-your-cars-for-breakfastWrangler and the group of students that are standing outside of it. It’s Madden’s car. I know this because he drives it to school sometimes, having gotten his license as soon as he turned sixteen. No surprises that Count Dracula the Second is an October baby.
A nervous weight settles in my tummy as I take in the sight of their group. Two sophomore cheerleaders with dark sexy hair are leaning against the front of the Jeep, seemingly engrossedin a conversation with Hudson – they’re beautiful, but obviously they are also sadly insane. And then to the side… a crowd of football guys from another car have met up with Madden and Tate, half-hidden behind another truck, and they’re doing that minimal-contact hand-grasp-hug thing whilst nodding their heads to signal who their dates are.
I hold onto the side of the door with a shaky hand, shielding my body from view as I watch them shyly. I absolutely cannot go out there. This was such a bad idea. What am I even doing here? Oh God, oh God, ohGod.
I turn around with the intention of speed-walking back to the hall to tell Kit that I’m leaving but the “queue”-cum-mosh-pit leading into the main room still hasn’t dissipated. I shift nervously at the back of the crowd, tapping my foot agitatedly, desperate to disappear.
Suddenly I feel a rush of air as if someone has just ran up behind me and warmth immediately envelopes my back. I look down as I’m quickly encircled with two firm forearms, tan skin exposed from white rolled-up sleeves, and Tate leans down to rest his chin on my bare shoulder, his lips lightly kissing the side of my reddening cheek.
“Hey baby,” he whispers and I drop my head, overcome with embarrassment, amazement, and pure, pure love. He leans slightly over my clavicle, peering down at my body, and I shrink a little under his scrutiny. I can feel his smile against my cheek. “I love your dress,” he continues, and his thumbs stroke my ribcage gently, as if he knows just how out of my depth I feel right now. He kisses me again and then murmurs quietly, “I knew that my girl would be the sweetest little thing in here tonight.”
I laugh, smitten, and I spin around, instantly drunk on the sight and the scent of him. He’s wearing some sort of cocaine-laced cologne that’s making my head crazy dizzy, and the pictureof him in a half-buttoned white shirt and a pair of dress pants that barely contain his thighs is really not helping with the not-passing-out thing. His eyes sparkle as he looks down at me intoxicatingly, palms cupping my face as I tilt up to him like a sunflower.
“You look so good,” I admit, and he flashes me a smug boyish grin that makes me laugh out loud.
“You wanna come meet the guys before I steal you away for the rest of the night? Or should I just steal you away right now?” he asks, leaning down like he’s about to kiss me.
