by May Dawson
“You have a guest.” A man stood in the doorway, his arms braced to either side of the frame. He was the man who’d run through the foyer before. He was older than Josh and Kai, maybe in his late twenties, and his dark hair was wet, as if he had just showered. He was even bigger than they were, too, with a powerful, muscular body, a grown man’s body.
Kai glanced at Josh. For a second, a flash of uncertainty crossed Josh’s face, but then it was gone, replaced by his usual easy confidence. “Callum, this is our friend Piper.”
“You’ve got friends after one day at school?” Callum smiled, and the tension in the room eased. He crossed the room to me, holding out his hand. “You must be a special girl to have won them over already. Especially Kai.”
“I’m not sure I’d call Kai won over,” I said. His skin felt hard and calloused and scarred, and when he took my hand in his, I could have sworn his pulse thrumming his palm, setting my own pulse rocketing along with his.
“He doesn’t even like us and we’re his family,” Callum said, glancing at Kai. “I heard him laughing. I’d call that won over.”
Kai pulled a face before he hunched his broad shoulders, leaning over the island to hide his expression.
“Do you mind if Piper stays the night?” Josh asked.
Callum glanced at me, then at Josh, and his nostrils flared. “I guess I don’t see why not. But tomorrow is a school day. I don’t want you to be…distracted.”
“I won’t be,” Josh promised. “We’re going to watch a movie in my room.”
Callum’s eyebrows rose, but he said nothing. He knit his arms across his broad chest.
“Let’s get out of here before he changes his mind,” Josh stage-whispered dramatically. He offered me his hand, as if I needed help navigating the eighteen-inch drop to the floor. I took his hand anyway as I slid off my stool.
“Be good,” Callum said, when we were almost all the way to the kitchen door.
“Always.” Josh didn’t look back
I wasn’t sure if it was Kai or Callum who snorted skeptically behind us. Maybe both of them.
“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Josh told me, resting his hand on my waist with careless possessiveness, as if we knew each other well already. “You can take my bed.”
Common sense reared its ugly head, belatedly. “I can’t. I shouldn’t be sleeping over...we barely know each other.”
We reached the quiet of the hallway, and he turned, bracing one hand to the side of my head. I wasn’t pinned to the wall by his body—he held himself away from me—but his intense blue eyes gazing into mine held me still.
“Piper,” he said. “I know you don’t want to talk to me, and I respect that. But I’m not an idiot. I’m looking at your face…” His eyes were kind as they swept over the bruises on the side of my face, but there was something fierce about the way his jaw set. “So help me God, if you go back there tonight, I might just kill him.”
His voice came out low and threaded with protective fury.
“You don’t even know me,” I said softly. “You shouldn’t care that much.”
“Don’t tell me what I should care about.” His lips hovered at my eye level, and some crazy, wild part of me wanted to reach out and take his jaw in my hands, hold him still and press my mouth against his.
“It’s just crazy. You don’t know if I’m a nice person.” My lips quirked. “And you can’t even tell right now if I’m pretty or not.”
“I can tell,” he promised, smiling ruefully. Was it his protectiveness, or just the curve of his lush lower lip above that chiseled jaw, that made me throb to press myself against him? “But it wouldn’t matter. You deserve to be protected. Cared for.”
His words were too sweet, and I shifted uncomfortably, but I couldn’t pull away. “I can take care of myself.”
His thumb skated across my split lip. It throbbed sweetly under his touch. I couldn’t tell if his gentle probing made it hurt worse or less. His tentative touch lingered, as if he’d heal my wounds. If he could.
“No one can take care of themselves,” he said softly. “We all need a family. Friends. There’s nothing that matters more to our happiness than knowing we aren’t alone.”
I couldn’t hide the cynical twist in my lips. I tried to be there for Maddie, but family? Friends? No one had ever been there for me. “What would make me happiest is to know I was independent.”
He leaned even closer, his breath in my hair when he whispered, “I think you’ll find that’s the real lie, Piper. Even if you mean it now.”
I put my hands on his shoulders, intending to push him away, but once my fingers met warm, hard muscle, I couldn’t quite bear to.
“You are intense,” I said, ducking my head to hide my smile. I had to defuse the tension between us, and the tension I felt myself, the restless desire to push him against the opposite wall and kiss him hard. What the hell was wrong with me?
He wrapped a strand of my hair around his fingers. “Is that a problem?”
“It’s…unusual.” My voice came out husky.
He tugged gently on the strand, sending pleasant tingles across my scalp, and pleasure raced through the ends of my hair down my spine. I almost moaned in response. “Don’t you think humans could use a little more intensity? More love, more loyalty, more honor.” His voice went soft. “Does anyone see you, needing help?”
“If they do, they’re ignoring me,” I said, my gaze falling to his chest. I shook my head. “It’s not their problem. Like I said, I can take care of myself.”
For a second, he was silent. I had to know what he was thinking. When my chin rose, there was a challenge in his vivid blue eyes.
“Well, I see you,” he said, and he tucked the hair back behind my ear, the gesture quick and fond. He stepped back, suddenly, and I almost sagged as if I’d been released from the wall, even though he’d never held me in place. Cool air skated over my body. “And I don’t intend to pretend otherwise.”
He turned, heading for stairs at the back of the hallway. “Want to come see my room?
I didn’t quite trust myself to speak. My knees still felt weak. I followed him—of course I did—and when I glanced back over my shoulder, Kai had emerged from the kitchen and stood watching us.
“Are you coming?” I said softly, stopping to look at Kai.
“Do you want me to?” he asked, his voice rough. He shoved his hands into his pockets and shot me a cocky glare, as if he didn’t want it to matter to him.
“Suit yourself,” I said, starting to head toward the stairs, where Josh had paused, his hand on the bannister. But there was something lonely about the idea of Kai knocking around this vast house by himself, while Josh and I got to know each other better, and so I turned back. Kai’s face was frozen, his jaw lifted, his face expressionless. Before I could lose my will, I said, “Yes.”
“Yes, you want me around?” he asked, his voice sullen.
“Kai,” Josh said impatiently, jerking his head toward the stairs. “You are one of us, even though you’re a pain in the ass. Come on.”
I’d love to have known where the tension came from between them, when they’d lived together for however long it had been since their parents died. But I had a feeling it’d take time to unwind their secrets, just as it’d take time for them to unwind mine.
Why did I feel so certain that we would, in time, come to know each other well?
Kai shook his head as if Josh annoyed him, but he followed us up the stairs anyway. Ahead of us was a long corridor, with what seemed like endless heavy polished dark-wood doors, all closed. Between the doors were works of art, and crossed swords hung periodically between the art.
“You guys just moved here?” I asked. “You move fast with the decorating.”
I stopped at an arresting, but disturbing, painting. A cluster of wolves stood around a woman in a gown. Snow fell, and even though her bare shoulders must have left her chilled, she looked up rapturously toward the falling flakes. Some of the wolves
lay at her feet, gazing at her with adoring eyes, and others paced around, some of them staring out of the portrait with their teeth bared. They all looked so lifelike that the snowy scene sent a chill down my arms.
“You can tell we don’t pay an interior decorator,” Kai said, humor in his voice for once. “Weird shit, huh? Our rooms are normal, though.”
“Does Callum like wolves?” I asked.
Josh pushed open his bedroom door and cocked his head at me, inviting me in.
“Like?” Josh repeated. “I guess so. He collects old art and arms and armor. Kind of a family hobby, passed down from his father.”
“His father. Your grandfather?”
Josh’s lips widened. “Are you trying to figure us all out, princess? We aren’t that complicated.”
“You admit to being unusual,” I teased, following him into his room.
“Not really,” he said. “You’re right, I like playing sports. And I like playing the guitar, too. And I love superhero movies. Pretty much your standard boy-next-door.”
His room was neat. His brass-framed bed stood against one wall, and for some reason the brass scrollwork in the headboard made me imagine—just for one naughty second—handcuffs dangling from the scrollwork. Framed movie posters hung on the wall, each for a different superhero flick.
“You really are boring,” I said, to make him laugh, and he did. “I guess I’m just the normal girl-next-door, too.”
“Oh, so do you like jocks who like dumb movies and play you songs on their guitar?” Kai asked. He bounced onto Josh’s bed, stretching out as if he owned it.
“Yes,” I said.
“Are you ever in luck then,” Kai dead-panned.
Meanwhile, Josh’s grin widened as he opened up the big cherry-wood cabinet at the foot of his bed, revealing a flat screen television and stacks of DVDs. “What do you want to watch? Something funny or something with a dose of vengeful justice?”
“Are those the two movie categories?” I squinted at his stack of titles. All superhero movies or comedy flicks. I guessed that for Josh, those really were the two categories. “You have some secret desire for vengeance, Josh?”
“Who doesn’t? I’m picking for you if you don’t pick in three, two, one…”
Before long, the three of us were on the bed. I found myself lying between them, feeling the heat of their two bodies radiating so that I was finally, truly, deeply warmed. I felt nervous at first, but that gave way to ease as they joked, and then we all fell silent, watching the movie.
I woke up in darkness, with a blanket tucked over my body. For a second, my heart froze in my chest. Then I heard Josh’s soft breathing. I turned over and found him sleeping on the floor, like he said he would, just to one side of my bed. Another soft exhale caught my attention, and I sat up. Kai slept between the foot of the bed and the cabinet. His arms were knit behind his head, making the hard shapes of his bicep stand out in sharp relief, even though he was asleep. These guys really must be athletes—I’d never seen boys so cut at such a young age. Even the most fit guys I knew, like Eli, still had a lot of boyishness to their lean frames.
Callum’s body rose in my memory, its sheer power, his massive biceps and pecs and the hard-muscled thickness of his waist. There was still a leanness to Kai and Josh, but Callum was all grown up, all powerful and solid. His arms would seem like an irresistible shield around any woman he locked them around. I could almost feel what it would be like to be crushed against his body, held tightly, the daydream as strong as a memory.
I shook my head. I was losing it.
I was lucky that Josh and Kai had welcomed me into their little circle as randomly and easily as they had, choosing to be my friends, it seemed, based off nothing. But that was no reason to get lost in a fantasy world.
Tomorrow, I’d have the respite of school. Then I’d have to hope that my father was, as he usually was, in a forgiving mood when I returned home. He often pretended to forget anything had ever happened, although my stuff would stay in the garage until he suddenly, randomly, piled it in the doorway of my room—either because I was truly forgiven, or because we were having company.
Tomorrow, it was back to playing the plan.
But for tonight, I listened to the soft breathing of these two guys in the night, and my own breath stilled. My hands had tensed on the blankets, holding them tightly as I thought about my father’s reaction, but now they relaxed. My body felt heavy, the comfortable mattress pressing up against me, and I fell into sleep.
Chapter 8
The next morning, I woke to an empty room. Sunlight fell at a slant across the wooden floorboards, illuminating dust floating in the air in a gentle golden haze. I sat up, my head still heavy with sleep. I needed coffee. How long had they let me sleep? Would we be late for school? I rolled onto my elbow, looking across Josh’s nightstand for a clock.
Along with a small brass clock, that looked as antique as the rest of their collection upstairs, there were a few framed photos. In one, a toddler-version of Josh stood between two people who must have been his parents. Even though he was round-cheeked and tiny, there was no missing his trademark grin. His mother had windswept blond hair and a square-jawed, generous smile like he did. His father leaned in toward the camera, and although his dark eyes and heavy beard made him look intense, his smile seemed to give away a good natured heart.
In another picture, Josh, Nick and Kai stood with their arms draped over each other’s shoulders in the midst of the forest. Kai stood at the end, unsmiling, his eyes intent on the photographer. Callum, it must have been Callum. The other three of them beamed out of the photo.
I wondered why Kai was the way he was. Josh had implied he’d seen some rough times in his life, too, but he had such an easy, comfortable way about him still. Josh seemed like he tried hard to see the bright side in life.
But then there was that edge, beneath the charm and ease, when his voice had gone all fierce and rough. When he’d threatened to kill my father for hurting me. The thought made my chest squeeze. Josh would get himself into trouble if he tried to go against my father. I should have said that; I should have warned him. Instead I’d been so lost in his gaze that I’d forgotten myself.
Feeling guilty, I slipped out of bed. The room was warm, surprisingly so, and I realized there was a small fire burning in the fireplace in the corner. This house was a maze of rooms and fireplaces. I wondered how long ago it had been built.
Just then, the door opened, and Josh came in. He handed me a cup of coffee. “I guessed at how you like your coffee.”
I took a sip. “Close enough.”
“Hot and sweet?” he said.
“I usually take milk, but I won’t complain.” The mix of bitterness and sweetness went down easily, warming my chest. “Did you start the fire for me, too?”
“Guilty,” he said, leaning down to poke at the burning log with a metal stick. “I don’t usually bother. I tend to run hot.”
“I noticed.” It was only once the words were out that I realized just seconds before, we’d discussed my affinity for things that were hot and sweet. Certainly, there were few people on the face of the planet as hot and sweet all at once as Josh.
He hung the poker back on a nail alongside the fireplace and sat down on the bed, tucking his leg beneath him. “I have to go to school today. I tried to get Callum to let me play hooky, but…” he shrugged.
“Callum takes his stand-in dad role seriously?” I filled in lightly.
“I just thought maybe you wouldn’t want to go back.” He cocked his head to one side. “I don’t think school will be easy on you today.”
“I like school well enough,” I said, before thinking of Eli haunting the halls, staring after me with that hungry expression like he was wanted to eat me up. A shiver ran down my spine.
“Anything you want to tell me about?” Josh asked, his tone still easy, before he took a long sip of his coffee. His throat worked as the coffee slid down, and my eyes couldn’t help fo
llowing the shape of his jaw and neck.
I shook my head.
“Do you have enemies, Piper?” Josh asked.
“Enemies?” I smiled. “That’s more archaic than your clock. Who has enemies?”
He picked up the clock in one hand, hefting its weight. “It was my grandfather’s.” His deep blue gaze swiveled back to me. “And who doesn’t have enemies? Anyone who tries to do something with their life runs into people who can’t abide them.”
“I haven’t tried to do anything with my life.”
“Bad liar, again.”
“You think too much of me, Josh.” I shook my head. “You’re going to be disappointed.”
“Never,” he said.
“You don’t even know me.”
“I’ve put together a few things about you already.” He took another sip of his coffee, leaving me in suspense, but his eyes were still on me. I sat down on the edge of the bed, eying him. I was curious what he would say, probably more curious than I should be. I wrapped my hands around my mug and mimicked him, watching him over the top as he watched me.
“Are you going to enlighten me?” I finally asked him mischievously.
“Sure,” he said, as if he’d just been waiting for me to ask, and raised his hand to tick things off on his fingers. “One, you’re pretty all the time, but you’re drop-dead gorgeous when you smile.”
I bit my lip, shaking my head. I should say thank you, but his matter-of-fact compliment left me embarrassed.
And delighted, too.
“That face is pretty cute too,” he told me. “Two, you’re fun. I could have stayed up all night talking to you.”
Instead, he’d let me fall asleep in his bed and slept on the floor. Part of me had worried I was being stupid last night when I slept in his bed. Now I knew I’d never had anything to fear from him.
“And last of all,” he said, “you were running from something, something that scared you bad, and when you hit something in the road, you stopped to check. You’re both brave and kind.”
