Secrets & Lies 3: The Ferro Family

by H. M. Ward

  He tries again. “I want to make sure I don’t lose you. The best way to do that is to be friends. I know it’s not what either of us wanted or planned. I actually like you—a lot. I love your voice and hearing what you're thinking. The way you surprise me puts a smile on my face even on an otherwise gloomy day. You’re the type of person that comes by so rarely, I don’t want to miss it.”

  I nod slowly and do it so many times that I feel like a doll, and someone is bobbing my head. I’m thinking soulmate while he’s thinking drinking buddy. Shit. But, still—I can do that. I think. My eyes cut to the side, and I smile at him. “Got it.”

  He’s quiet for a moment and then asks, “What do you want?” He presses his lips together, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His gaze is on the floor. “I’d like to know. And you don’t have to agree with me. Why’d you come here tonight? What did you hope would happen?”

  Just say it. The truth isn’t that bad. Stop thinking, Kerry! You thought through everything with Matt and look where that led—he broke your heart. If you control this, if you call the shots, then it can’t turn out that way. The words tumble out of my mouth, and I feel brave, reckless, and free. It’s the insane trifecta I need so I don’t back down and chicken out.

  I turn to him, stepping in front of him before he can move away from the wall. “I need some comfort, and you do, too. I know this can’t be, that it’s not a long-term thing. Neither of us wanted that before, and let's face it—for all practical purposes, we have the weird relationship weirdness without the perks. I think we should finish that and move on. If friendship is next, I’m game. If there’s nothing after this, that’s fine. I don’t want to think about tomorrow, and I'm dying to forget today. I figured you might want that, too.”

  By the time I say the last word, we’re lip to lip. I’m close enough to kiss him, to press my body against his, but I don’t. I leave the slight distance because I need him to say it’s all right. He has to know this isn’t some kid crush. “Listen, you’re not taking advantage of me. That’s not what this is. I know what I need. I need a rebound guy. You need a distraction, someone who won’t be around in the morning to cause problems. It’s a one-time thing. It doesn’t need to be more.”

  Nathan’s breathing is heavier. With every breath, his chest swells and his nipples brush against mine through his shirt. The touch is faint, barely there. His eyes lock on mine, and I know he’s torn. Pushing him is cruel, but we’re on a clock. It’s tonight or never. Before this, no one would question the hookup. Before tonight, I didn’t know he was a teacher, and he didn’t realize I was a student. All that baggage becomes an elephant in the morning.

  He breathes my name and closes his eyes. He’s going to say no. I feel it.

  I whisper, “It’s okay. I’ll stay with you tonight anyway. We can watch Game of Thrones until sunrise. You don’t have to be alone tonight.”

  It’s over. There’s no chance of anything with Nathan, and as soon as my hope falls to my feet, he pushes off the wall and steps toward me. As he looks down at me, his eyes lock on my lips. “That sounds like a good plan.”

  “You have my friendship, Nathan.”

  “Please, call me Nate.”

  I lift my lashes and look into his eyes. “Nate.”

  The corners of his lips twitch as a slight smile spreads across them. “Kerry.”

  I stare, knowing I can’t taste. I should walk away, find some popcorn, anything to put some distance between us, but I don’t want to move. He’s still close enough to feel the heat from his body. The memory of his sinful skin against mine is still fresh in my mind. My fingers twitch at my sides as I resist the urge to touch him. I’m drowning in him, in his scent, breathing him in. I can’t stay this way. Friendship requires distance and right now there is none.

  He’s a friend who had a hard day. Give him a hug and be done with it. I slip up on my toes so I don’t mash my breasts into him too much, and give the most sisterly hug I can manage. He’s surprised at first, but then I feel his hands on my back. He pats me, and when he begins to pull away, he slows as my cheek brushes against his. A strand of my hair catches on his stubble, so he trails his finger over my cheek and tucks it behind my ear. His hand lingers. His lips are right there, so close to mine. I can’t breathe. I don’t move. His eyes dart between my eyes and my lips, finally lingering on my mouth until I have to suck in a breath. My chest swells, making my breasts press against his chest. I try not to breathe, but it doesn’t help. The pressure of his body on mine is exquisite and unbearable at the same time.

  My lips part and I stumble back into the wall. Nate moves with me, placing one of his hands on either side of my head. He moves slowly—as if he knows he shouldn’t—sweeping his lips against mine. I shiver with the contact and feel my heart rate increase to frantic levels. I’m breathing like a hyperventilating asthmatic. It’s so far from sexy that…

  The thought vanishes when his mouth crushes against mine. His sweet hesitance is gone. Nate presses me to the wall and cups my face with both hands, drinking me in—ravishing me with a heated kiss. His knee forces itself between mine and, as my knees go weak, I slide down the wall until my core presses against his leg. I moan, and the kiss deepens, intensifies. His tongue tangles with mine as he tastes me, touches me, and presses his body into mine. My hands are under his shirt, fingers splayed across his back, feeling every firm muscle as he devours me.

  It’s just a kiss, but I’m so hot, so turned on. I want more. I want him.

  Nathan pulls away, blue eyes dark and sensual. He’s breathless when he speaks. “We can’t. I can’t do this to you.”

  I’m not playing this game. I push away from him, freeing myself from his grasp. “The only thing you’re doing to me is driving me crazy. What are we, Nate? You seriously can’t handle a fuckbuddy? You can’t do a one-nighter? No rebounds?” I sound bitter, and I don’t like it, but I can’t stand it. This is the third time he’s rejected me.

  “It’s not you.”

  “Right.”

  “Kerry, this just can’t happen. I have too much shit on my plate right now. I want you when I can have you. That’s not tonight.”

  I’m hurt and the urge to say things I shouldn’t is overwhelming. I swallow most of the sentiments, but a few slip out. “You’re wrong. Tonight was your last chance, and you blew it.”

  I turn and rush down the hallway, taking long determined strides, and yank the front door open. I’m rushing up the stairs of the bus, the raccoon darting between my legs, when I realize he didn’t follow me.

  Nathan’s front door is closed.

  Chapter 5

  I get back to the dorm, stagger to my room and fall face-first on my bed. I don’t change my clothes or brush my teeth. I’ll just lay here for a second before getting ready for bed. It’s nearly 4 am and my body is aching with fatigue. Sleep paws at me and my eyelids won’t stay open.

  A moment later I’m hit with a stack of books. I yelp and dart upright in the bed. Sunlight fills the room. It spills through the open window, making it clear that it’s morning. Between the sounds of the cars in the parking lot below and the glaring bitch standing over me, I know I slept in. I missed my class.

  I groan and snap at her, “What the hell?”

  She smiles and gives a fake giggle. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.”

  Bullshit. I left my books at the foot of my bed yesterday. Why she decided to scoop them up and drop them on me eludes me.

  “Better get going, Bacon. You’re stinking up the room with that greasy hair of yours.”

  I stare at her pretty pink lips and gleaming hair. She’s so close to the window. I could shove her. She could trip. It could totally be an accident, but we’re only on the second floor. Her worst injury would probably be a broken nail.

  There are people who have excellent luck. It’s like fate chose them to be the shining stars of my generation, and Super Bitch has more luck than a leprechaun. She never has bad hair days. Zits?
None. Ever. Her skin is perfect, flawless, as in she doesn’t need makeup. Cosmetic companies hate girls like her, with their natural beauty that doesn’t come from a can.

  Chelsey folds her arms over her chest and glares at me. “Your phone has been ringing. It annoyed me, so I answered it to make it stop.”

  I jump up and nearly stumble into her. “What? You can’t do that!”

  She tips her head to the side. “I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t such a lazy ass. I can’t believe the art department chose you for a nude model.” She slides her eyes over my rumpled body. “I mean, please. Why would they want to draw that when they could have this?” Barbie gestures to herself, then winks at me.

  I want to punch her in the face. That laugh, the way she hits the perfect grating pitch, the tone that gets under my skin the most. “Yeah, you’re hot. Go sign up if you want to be a nude model. I don’t care. Who was on the phone?”

  “Your mother.” She rolls her eyes and glances at her nails while jutting out a curvy hip. “It’s so crude, Kerry. I told her about your new job, and she didn’t approve. We talked for a while, and that poor dear woman is worried sick about you.” She smiles up at me from behind incredibly long lashes.

  “It’s none of your business.” I shove past her and grab some clothes from my closet. I can’t miss my next class. I still need to shower and get the hell out of here.

  “No, of course not, but when a daughter won’t speak to her own mother it makes me wonder.” She smiles and the expression makes my stomach dip. It’s like she’s a cat and has a mouse by the tail.

  “Shit, what did you do?”

  “Nothing,” she swats a hand at me. “Well, nothing a good daughter wouldn’t offer. I invited her to visit and said she could stay here. I said I wouldn’t mind clearing out for the weekend. My new boyfriend is taking me out anyway, so it’s no trouble at all. I even suggested she bring your father, but they’re not together anymore. So, well, you know. I’m an open-minded woman, Kerry. I told her that her significant other was welcome here. I don’t mind, and I’m sure you won’t either.”

  I stand there with my mouth hanging open. She invited Mom and Matt to sleep here? In the dorm, with me? What the fuck?

  Chelsey reaches out and presses a finger to the bottom of my chin and closes my mouth. “Better man up, Bacon. Oh, that’s right—you can’t hold onto a man—not when your mother is around. Good luck with that.” She saunters out the room, her heels clicking on the floor, and down the hallway.

  I sit down hard on the bed and clasp my head between my hands.

  I can’t do this. I have to cancel Mom’s visit. I sure as hell can’t see her with Matt, never mind them sleeping together in a bed across from me. Hell, no!

  I jump up and frantically poke the phone until it starts ringing my mother. It goes to voicemail.

  “Mom, my roommate invited you here this weekend, but it’s not a good time. Call me back.” I hang up and hope to God she hasn’t already left.

  Chapter 6

  I slide into my spot in Art History and stare straight ahead. Carter still isn’t speaking to me. Neither is Emily. I feel her glaring at me from the back of the room. I fold my arms across my chest and slink down in my chair, wishing we didn’t have assigned seating. I can’t avoid anything. It’s all right there, in my face twenty-four hours per day, seven days per week. I can’t stand it.

  The class passes slowly as Carter and I avoid looking at each other. He doesn’t glance up from his notes except to watch the professor drone on about abstract expressionism. There’s about five minutes left when he steps away from the podium at the front of the dark room to flip on the lights. Normally this is the cue to leave, but the prof clears his throat and looks out at the small class.

  “I realize this topic is somewhat tedious. Viewing artwork like this on slides does little to convey the evocative nature of the work, so I’m sending you out into the world. You’ll all attend the exhibit at the museum with the traveling works of the twentieth century abstract expressionists with a partner. You’ll discuss the paintings and come back next week ready to report. I surmise that half of you will gain an increased awe. The rest of you are a lost cause.” He smirks and adds. “The person seated next to you is your partner for this assignment.”

  Shit. That means I’m with Carter. I glance at his hands. They’re stained with black ink around the nails like he’s been painting. I had no right saying what I said to him—it was a low blow—but I don’t understand why he got so mad. He notices me staring and glances over at me.

  “New painting?” I ask.

  He nods and rubs his hands together. “Yeah.” He looks away and starts gathering his things. Other students are heading to the aisles and vacating the room.

  I stand and block the aisle so he can’t leave. I need to grow a pair and apologize. “Listen, I didn’t understand why you and Emily were mad at me, but I shouldn’t have said that to you.” The nasty words need no introduction. He remembers as well as I do that I said he was a loser and had no friends. I called him a dick in front of other people, in front of the teacher.

  Carter doesn’t look at me. He’s wearing dark clothes that hang off his slim body. With his chin tucked, his hair falls into his eyes and hides his face. He sighs and shifts his weight from one foot to the other, waiting for me to move. He’s not going to forgive me.

  I step aside. As he walks by, I say softly, “You were the only kind person I met when I first got here. If you ever need anything, I’ll be there for you.”

  Carter doesn’t stop. He doesn’t look back or reply.

  Emily, on the other hand, is ready to rip me a new one. She’s been glaring at me from behind black eye makeup and red lips. The dark leather choker around her neck makes her look badass. I’m pretty sure she could kick my ass if she wanted to, and no doubt she knows what I said to Carter. That entire group seems to know. She’s not the only one who was glaring at me in class.

  Emily falls into step beside me and pretends to be perky. “So, did you crush any other men last night? Rip out a few hearts and toss them aside like worthless pieces of shit, or was that just Carter?”

  “Emily.” I stop and turn to her. We’re in the hallway now, and a few people walk by, but most of the class is gone.

  “No, don’t even try to explain why you said it because there is no motherfucking reason why you could be so cruel to him. Carter has been through hell, and it’s all because of his dipshit former best friend—you know, the guy you hang out with? The one who fucked Carter’s girlfriend behind his back? You do remember me telling you that?”

  “Emily, it’s not like that. I didn’t—”

  She steps toward me and gets in my face. “I didn’t tell you that to use against him. I can’t fucking believe you think you have the right to level a guy like Carter. Because that’s what you did. You flatlined him. He was withdrawn before, always with his guard up since that shit with Josh. This was the first time in a long time he seemed like the old Carter, and then you went and stabbed him in the back.” She turns, clutching her books against her chest in one hand, and pointing at her back with the other. “Is there anything there? Because it feels like someone shoved a knife in my back the other night. Oh, right. That was you.”

  That’s it. I drop my books on a nearby table and walk over to her. I’m not taking shit from anyone anymore. I poke her chest, which is probably a death wish. Her icy blue eyes widen in shock, but I don’t remove my finger. “What’s your problem? You don’t know shit about what’s going on between Carter and me. Don’t pretend you do! You were pissed at me before that happened.”

  “You are so stupid!” She fists her hands at her sides and lets out a rush of air from between her teeth. “He likes you! Carter is so totally into you, and you’re blind.”

  I blink and step back, staring at my finger as it falls through the air. “What? No, he doesn’t”

  “You’re an idiot. The guy is into you and you treat him like shit stuck to y
our shoe. You don’t deserve him.” Her nostrils flare and as I look at her, I can see it.

  I step back and feel horrible. My defenses come crashing down because I finally get it. “You like him.”

  She sneers at me, and jerks back like I slapped her. “Me? No?” She stutters, fumbling her words and then goes on the offensive again. “I’m just watching out for a guy that’s been bitchslapped by life one too many times. He didn’t deserve it!” She’s breathing rapidly when the professor walks out the room and stops.

  “Is everything all right here?” He’s an older guy with snowy hair and a round body. The skin on his face hangs in long flaps and forms dangly jowls. His arms are full, and his briefcase is about to fall out of the crook of his arm. A half empty coffee cup tilts too far to the side, threatening to spill. Professor Dade is a great lecturer, but he’s always dropping things.

  Emily rearranges some of the items perched on top of his briefcase. “There, that should stay until you get to your office. We’re fine. Just girl stuff. Kerry has her period, and cramps made her bitchy, so she—“

  Prof Dade shakes his head and steps back like Emily doused him with acid. “All right then. As long as you two have it handled.” He walks away in a hurry without looking back.

  Emily smiles as he leaves. She likes Dade and is protective of him. I’ve heard her defending him when other students are ridiculing him. Emily is good like that.

  “You’re right. I was a bitch. I’m trying to figure out how much shit to take from people, new and old, and I went too far with Carter. But I don’t understand why you got mad.”

  She tenses. “It was a dumb move, modeling like that.”

  “Emily, it’s part of the world we live in. I’ve never had an issue with it, so why should I be all prude with it now?”

  She shakes her head and works her jaw for a moment. She glances down the hallway and sees Quinn slip into a lecture hall. “Not here, okay. I’ll tell you later.” She blinks rapidly, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think those were tears.