Avery clears his throat. “Stop it, you’re going to eat her alive.”
I don’t know why, but I laugh out loud. “I’m sorry,” I say, covering my mouth and turning to head toward the beach.
“Let me get out, Delsin.” Camille giggles behind me.
“Why should I? I like it when you’re close to me,” Delsin tells her hoarsely.
Both he and Avery really have this sweet-talking thing down. You know, the perfect words that make female hearts beat faster. If I didn’t know better, I’d think they were the kind of womanizers who take home a different girl every night, but that doesn’t seem to be true. Of course, it’s entirely possible that my perception is wrong.
When I reach the shore, my towels are lying crumpled up in the sand, so I give them a good shake and stretch one out to lie down on. I sit, watching Avery, Camille, and Delsin roughhouse in the water. I wish I had friends like that. I giggle when I see Avery grab Cami and send her flying into the water. She squeals and splashes, and when she comes back up, she curses like the other two.
Then Avery looks in my direction, catches me staring, and waves. He starts swimming toward the shore, while Delsin and Cami stay in the water. Avery takes the last few steps out of the ocean standing upright. It’s like a shot from a movie with drops of water running down his six-pack, disappearing into his swim trunks only to reappear at the hem. I swallow and look away, but only after I’ve stared at him for a few hot heartbeats.
“Could you hand me a towel?” he asks when he’s standing in front of me.
With a nod, I reach out and grab the first towel I can find.
“Thank you.” He sits down behind me. A shiver runs down my spine as he touches me. “Your skin is burning hot, Dahlia. Did you put any sunscreen on?”
I shake my head in silence.
“Then we should do that now.”
I look over my shoulder and see him pull out a bottle of suntan lotion from under one of the towels. Because I don’t want him to put it on me, I take the bottle from him and start putting the lotion on myself.
“I can put it on your back,” he offers.
“Thanks, but I can do it.” I have to contort myself a little in order to reach my back, but it works. When I’m finished, I hand back the lotion and smile at him.
“You don’t like anyone helping you, do you?”
“No. I’ve had to get by on my own so far, and now it’s a habit.”
He nods slowly and puts the bottle away. “And why are you constantly avoiding my invitations to drive you home?”
I shrug. “I really like taking the bus. It’s relaxing.” By now I feel really uncomfortable with my lies, but if I told him the truth, he wouldn’t want anything to do with me anymore. That fact just keeps repeating in my head like an iPod on repeat.
“I don’t believe you,” he says with a shrug. “But even if you won’t let me do it today, maybe you will someday.”
“Yeah, maybe,” I agree and look back out at the glittering ocean.
Suddenly, he pulls me close to his chest and stretches his legs out on either side of me. “I like it much better this way,” he whispers in my ear.
Another shiver runs down my spine and I close my eyes. “Me too,” I confess, leaning my back against his chest.
“Wow, that happened fast,” Delsin says, causing me to bolt upright.
Avery clears his throat. “Nothing gets past you,” he mutters.
“Stop teasing them, Delsin,” Cami interrupts, smiling down at me and giving Delsin a playful shove.
“I’m not teasing them, just voicing my observations.” Delsin smirks as he plops down on his towel. Camille sits down in front of him and leans back. They’re sitting together exactly the way Avery and I were a moment ago.
“Not true. You’re needling,” Avery counters in an amused voice.
Delsin, whose hair is tousled and wet, gives him a boyish grin and sticks out his tongue. “I simply took over your usual role.”
“You’re making Dahlia uncomfortable,” Cami scolds. “Behave!”
“Is that right?” Avery asks.
I shake my head. “Not really.” I’m grateful for Cami’s interference, but I don’t really feel uncomfortable, more like unsure—unsure about how to act or what to feel.
“But you are being rather quiet,” he insists.
“Only because I don’t know you and your friends very well,” I explain shyly.
“Then get to know us,” Delsin says. “We’re just a little crazy, that’s all. Well, Ave and I are the crazy ones. Caramel is responsible, friendly, nice, and just a very sweet girl.”
She blushes, even though she has an eyebrow raised. “Am I nice and sweet?” she asks with a grin.
“If we disregard all the scoldings I get from you, and the several dozen times you socked me when you were angry … then, yes, you are.”
“How long have you two been together?” I ask.
“About … two months,” Cami answers.
“And why are you calling her Caramel?” I ask Delsin.
“Her name’s Camille, but she’s sweet as candy, so I christened her Caramel.”
I nod. “And how long have you all known each other?”
“Delsin and I grew up together, more or less,” Avery chimes in. “I met Cami when she started at The U. She ran into me and my cupcake ended up in her cleavage. We went for coffee and immediately clicked. She and Delsin only met a few days before they ended up in bed together.”
“Ave!” Cami yells indignantly.
“What? It’s true,” he insists with an amused twinkle in his eye.
“But there’s no need to make her think I’m someone who just jumps into bed with guys I’m not dating,” she says.
“That’s not what I think of you, Cami,” I assure her. “I don’t judge anyone before I really know them.”
“Hear, hear!” Delsin says like a herald. “Finally someone with a sensible attitude, unlike Melissa.”
“Who’s Melissa?” I ask, confused.
“Ave’s ex-girlfriend, who was a very superficial person,” Cami explains. “At least now he’s got Pearl.”
“Pearl and I aren’t together anymore,” Avery says softly.
“Why not?” Cami asks, sounding curious.
“She, uh, she attacked Dahlia in a rather mean way, and I don’t want to be in a relationship with anyone that superficial. It’s annoying, it’s tiring, and I just don’t need it. After I found that out, it was over.”
I suddenly feel awful. He ended his relationship because of me?
Cami looks at me. “Maybe we ought to go get drinks for everybody, Dahlia. Will you go with me?”
I nod quickly, get up, and make a dash for the beach house stairs as if someone were chasing me. I should just go home. Of course I can hear Cami clomping up the stairs after me, but I would rather be alone. I need to get away from this group of people I don’t fit in with and away from this beach where I keep running into Avery. I should just leave town to make sure I don’t see him again.
Stop being stupid, I tell myself. I can’t leave and I can’t manage to avoid Avery forever. I seem to run into him every time I leave the house. And of course I could never leave Grandpa behind. Oh, hell!
“What’s wrong, Dahlia?” Cami asks as she follows me into the kitchen.
“I just need to leave. I better take a bus home. He … he broke up with his girlfriend because of me. That’s bad. And Avery shouldn’t care … he and I have nothing … nothing in common. He shouldn’t keep inviting me places and wanting to drive me home … It’s … crap.” I’m breathless and desperate as I pace the kitchen.
“And why is he not supposed to do all that?” Cami wants to know.
“Because I … ” I shake my head. “Because he doesn’t know me.”
“That could be remedied pretty easily,” Cami says. “You just have to let him get to know you.”
“I know, but … I don’t want to. I don’t even understand why he’s d
oing all this,” I reply.
“Because he likes you,” she says.
“But he doesn’t know me,” I argue, frustrated.
“Sometimes there’s just this one moment between two people that goes beyond rational thinking, otherwise Delsin and I wouldn’t be together. I don’t want to tell you to let down your defenses and let Avery come closer, but—”
She breaks off, and I give her a puzzled look.
“But … I don’t know what I was going to say. You distracted me with that look,” Camille says quietly.
I sigh. “He doesn’t know me, and as soon as he does, he’s not going to want anything to do with me anymore.”
“Avery’s not like that. He’d be angry with you for not telling him in the first place, but your background wouldn’t matter. You don’t have to go to bed with him or fall in love with him, but you could become friends at least, couldn’t you?” she suggests.
I stop in my pacing and look down at the white tiles. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. He … makes my skin tingle and I get goosebumps whenever I hear his voice or he touches me. That is not good.”
“Why not?”
“It just isn’t. Maybe I should tell him I don’t care what his girlfriend—”
“Ex-girlfriend,” she interrupts.
“What his ex-girlfriend said about me. He shouldn’t throw his relationship away just like that.”
“You know, Dahlia, I know Pearl, and I don’t like her much, not anymore, not after she called me a farm whore from Texas, just because she was jealous I was with Delsin. She is really superficial and a scheming bitch. I, for one, am happy Ave is done with her.” She pauses and then looks at me in curiosity. “But if you don’t want to get to know him further, why did you stay today?”
“He promised he would leave me alone if I spent today with him and went out to dinner with him tonight. I’ll take the bus home, because I refused that part of the deal where he drives me home.”
“Do you have any idea how many girls would kill for that kind of day with Avery? He and Delsin are both much sought after at school, but he wants to focus on his studies. He isn’t interested in all those casual flings he could have. You may feel a little cornered by him, but that’s just Ave’s character. He means well.”
“I should go home anyway. Can I leave through the front door?” I ask in my small voice.
“Do you really want to run away? Let me tell you, it’s no use. Delsin kept finding me when I tried that, and he was persistent, just as Ave will be,” she says.
I nod impatiently. “Yes, I really want to run away! And now I need to change. Thanks for lending me the bikini.” I rush upstairs and hurry to get dressed again. When I step out from behind the folding screen, Cami is standing in the doorway, studying me. “Running away is the wrong way to go, Dahlia.”
“Right now it feels rather right,” I reply, as I tie my shoes. “You’re really nice, Camille, and so is your friend, but I don’t belong with you all.”
“Could you stop saying that?” she says. “We had fun together, and nobody looked at you sideways. Even I buy my clothes at Forever 21, and that store is really not expensive.”
“I don’t even know that store,” I counter. “I buy my stuff at Salvation Army. Everything I own has been worn by other people before me, and I don’t like to think about the things they did in these clothes. Couldn’t you just tell the guys I need a few more minutes in the restroom? That sounds awkward, but it’s my only hope of keeping Avery from following me again.”
Camille takes a deep breath. “I’m not going to lie to my best friend. I’ll keep your secret, but if you go and he asks where you went, I’m going to answer his question truthfully.”
“Fine.” Then I leave the bedroom, walk down the stairs, and almost run from the house, nervously looking around. The front of the house is worse than the back. The street is filled with luxurious beach houses, and I know I’ll draw attention. It is so different from Liberty City. Everything is neat and tidy, expensive cars are parked in the street, and the front yards look picture-perfect. I have no idea how to get to the bus stop from here, because I’ve never taken this path, but I can’t go back down to the beach and take my usual route now.
Panic-stricken, I turn right because earlier, before Avery invited me over, I went left. I reckon this is the right direction, but I’m confused.
After a mere hundred yards I hear someone yell behind me. I don’t turn around, hoping they’re not yelling to me.
“Wait up!” someone calls.
I look over at the other side of the street, but there’s no one there. Nor is there anyone in front of me, so I finally turn around. Of course it’s Avery running toward me. He’s thrown on a shirt but is still wearing his swim trunks.
“Why are you leaving?” he asks as he stops in front of me.
“I lost track of time, and I should be home before my grandpa starts worrying.”
“Then I’ll drive you.”
Before I can even protest, he grabs my wrist and pulls me along. His grip doesn’t hurt but is almost tender.
“Avery, I … I’m going to take the bus.”
“No! I’ll take you,” he insists. “If you don’t want to spend the whole day with me, that’s okay, but please let me at least take you home.” I can clearly hear the irritation in his voice.
“Please let me go,” I beg softly.
He turns around and stares at me. The look in his midnight-blue eyes is telling. He’s angry. “Why are you running away? Tell me the truth!”
I look at the ground, trying to free my hand from his grip, which is now unyielding.
“I won’t let you go before you tell me, Dahlia.”
He really won’t let me go, I think in alarm. “Please, Avery. Let me go,” I repeat. I’ve rarely felt this cornered in my life. And I’m frightened by the way my body reacts to the closeness of his.
He finally loosens his grip and then pulls his hand away.
“I’m poor,” I say. “Dirt-poor, and I didn’t want to tell you because I’m always treated the same way by people like you. Either they ignore me, or they sneer at me like your girlfriend did.”
“Ex-girlfriend,” he corrects.
“Whatever,” I reply. “You shouldn’t have left her because of me or because of her words. I am not interested in you. I was only being nice to you because your grandma was my job.”
“Oh, you call that being nice?” he asks with a grin.
I nod.
“Great. Nice is the little sister of shitty. Ever heard that saying?” he murmurs.
I bite my tongue to stop myself from laughing.
“Seriously,” he says. “Why would I care where you live? I’m interested in who you are. Money doesn’t buy happiness.”
“A little more of it would buy me quite a large chunk of happiness,” I say wistfully.
Suddenly he puts his hands on my cheeks and forces me to look at him. “Tell me again that you’re not interested in me,” he demands softly.
There’s a lump in my throat and the tears blur my eyes. “I—” But I’m unable to say any more because he leans down and kisses me roughly. I immediately freeze, not returning it, and simply wait for him to be done. I don’t even react when the tip of his tongue touches my lower lip. Only in this way can I support my statement that I’m not interested in him. Finally, he pulls away.
“Whoa,” he says. “That was uptight, unequivocal answer.”
“See? I’m not interested in you.”
He shakes his head with a broad smile on his face. “Yes, you are.”
“No, I’m not!”
“Yes, you are.”
“No!” I say, getting angry.
Avery laughs. “Yes, you are.”
I take a deep breath to avoid exploding. “I better go now.”
Again he holds me back, but this time he takes my hand and wraps his around it. “I’ll drive you, and I won’t accept your damn no.”
“I’ll wa
lk. It’s only a little over ten miles,” I say sheepishly.
“You were going to walk? That would be crazy when I can drive you! Plus, it’ll give me more time to spend with you.”
“I live in Liberty City,” I inform him.
His jaw drops. “Really?” After regaining his composure, he murmurs, “That’s worse than I thought.”
“I told you I don’t fit in here. I don’t even know what brought me to your part of the beach. I won’t bother you anymore.” I tear my hand from his, turn on my heel, and start walking away.
“I don’t care where you live,” he calls after me. “It’s who you are that counts, not your bank account or the label in your clothes. Only you, Dahlia!”
Another deep breath gives me the strength I need to put one foot in front of the other.
He curses softly, and then I hear him walk away, but only moments later he’s driving next to me in a red convertible. “Get in, Dahlia.”
“Avery, I don’t think it’s a good idea to go to Liberty City in that car.”
“And I think you still owe me dinner,” he replies.
My shoulders droop. “Why are you so persistent?”
“Because I want to get to know you better, and because I insist on fulfilling my end of the deal. You know I’ll leave you alone if you come to dinner with me now.” He attempts to lure me in with a grin.
My feet won’t carry me any farther. They seem to have grown roots.
“Come on, Dahlia, no need to be afraid.”
After exhaling in frustration, I give myself a push and get in the car with him. I buckle up and look at the road. “Where do you want to go for dinner?”
“What do you like to eat?” he asks.
“Everything but Italian. We’ve had spaghetti almost every day recently,” I explain without looking at him.
His half-smirk makes me shiver again. Goosebumps. “I’m fed up with that, too. Delsin and I aren’t the greatest cooks, so we have pasta a lot.”
“What about Camille? Can she cook?”
“Yeah, but she doesn’t see why she should be the one to take care of the food all the time. We take turns, but her dinners are always the best.”
Avery: Sensual Desire: New Adult College Romance (Coral Gables Series Book 2) Page 4
