The Dead List

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  much of a chance. When he came to my house the next day, I wouldn’t let him inside, and that was when I told him I never wanted to speak to him again.

  “Why would you pull that kind of prank on me?” I whispered.

  “A prank?” His turned his head toward mine sharply, eyes narrowly. “You really believe that I’d do that to you? That asking you out was just a prank?”

  “What was I supposed to think?”

  “I never got that chance to tell you why I didn’t show up that night.” Shaking his head, his gaze returned to the ceiling. “And I’m not saying that’s your fault. I should’ve told you way before then, then you would’ve understood.”

  I frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  His chest rose with a deep breath. “Oh God, you see… there’s something about me—about my family you never knew. Hell, no one really knew. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to tell you, but my parents… it was our dirty little secret.”

  “Okay. I’m really kind of confused. Dirty secret? What are you talking about?”

  He opened his mouth and it was like he had to get his tongue around the words. “Jonathan—he was…”

  Whoa. I wasn’t expecting anything he had to say had to do with his brother.”

  Jensen shifted back onto his side, facing me. “Jon… he had issues, Ella. Not a lot of people knew. Only us and a few of his friends.” His lashes lowered. “Brock did, because his brother was close to Jon, but Mom and Dad were horrified.”

  “Horrified about what?” I asked.

  He raised his hands, smoothing his palms down his face. “Jon had a huge drug problem.”

  I blinked once and then twice. “What?”

  “Heroin,” he spat the word out. “Started his sophomore year of high school. For a while he was able to function with it. We had no idea. None at all. Not until he started getting strung out, stealing from them—from me. Once he took my birthday money our grandma gave me. Then it was obvious. They sent him to rehab, got him clean, and everyone thought he… you know, escaped its clutches. He went to college, but he was using again.”

  Holy crap, I had no idea.

  His lips turned down at the corners. “Our parents were so embarrassed by it. Like they did something wrong raising him and that’s why he used. For the longest time, I didn’t understand it. Why? He didn’t have a shitty life. He wasn’t suffering from anything. He just tried once and I guessed he was forever chasing that high. I don’t know. It doesn’t really matter. The night that he died in his sleep? He’d overdosed.”

  “Oh, my God,” I whispered. “I’m so—”

  “Don’t say you’re sorry,” he told me. “Heroin did that to him.” There was a pause. “You know, I think people would be amaze by how many families are hiding secrets like that.”

  “Probably a lot.” I had no idea what to say. This was something I never knew and as many times as I had seen Jonathan, I would’ve never guessed.

  “I was looking forward to going to that dance,” he said quietly, as if he was talking to himself. “I liked you then, you know? More than a friend. Had for a while and well, I wish I had told you that. I wish I told you about Jon, but I didn’t know what to say about him. Everyone looked up to him, even me. I thought eventually his… his problems would just go away.”

  A picture of a past I never knew existed started to form in my head. “Something happened that night.”

  “Yeah.” His throat worked. “Jon had come home that afternoon, all screwed up. He ended up getting in a fight with Dad because he’d taken money out of Mom’s purse again. The fight was really bad and Mom… man, she was nearly hysterical. Things got out of hand. The police was called and before I knew it, the dance had already started.”

  Geez. I was floored. All this time I’d believed Jensen had pulled a nasty prank or me or had forgotten or a number of other lame things, but I never had guessed this. Never had any reason to.

  “I wanted to tell you.” He looked at me again. “But…”

  “But I didn’t give you a chance.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “When you showed up that weekend, I told you to leave me alone. And then you moved later that month. God, Jensen, I’m so sorry. About all of it.”

  “You don’t have anything to apologize for.” The tips of his fingers touched my cheek gingerly. “I could’ve told you what was going on before that night. I could’ve come back later on, but I didn’t. None of that matters now.”

  But it did.

  “So that’s why I didn’t show up at that dance and that’s why my parents moved. They wanted to get away. Anyway, like I said, I wished I’d done so many things differently, but I can’t go back in time. All I have is today and tomorrow, and I want a future,” he said, closing his eyes. “I want a future with you.”

  Something tugged at my chest, and God, I wanted that future too. I did want Jensen. I’d always wanted him and had missed him so badly during those years, but to have him, I had to let go of the past.

  Was I willing to do that?

  Sitting up halfway, I stared down at him. Jensen had opened his eyes and was watching me warily now, with a bit of resignation churning in those beautiful eyes, flickering across his face. I knew in that moment he expected me to tell him no or that I wasn’t ready. Some variation of that. And I knew he’d still stay with me, he’d still be there for me, and an even deeper part of me realized that he wouldn’t give up.

  He’d wait.

  But I didn’t want to wait.

  I didn’t want to live in a past full of hurt and pain, guilt and misunderstandings anymore. I wanted today and tomorrow, especially when there was such a powerful reminder that not everyone had tomorrow. I wanted a fresh start and I wanted that with him.

  “I want that too,” I said, and my heart thumped in my chest. “I want to be with you.”

  For a long moment, Jensen didn’t move, and I wasn’t sure he even breathed. Then he slipped two fingers under my chin, tilting my head down. “For real?”

  “For real,” I whispered.

  “Thank you.” Jensen’s arms tightened around me, snuggling me close to him, and that’s how we stayed.

  #

  Like the morning before, I woke a little too early to get ready, but surprisingly well rested and toasty.

  Really toasty.

  I’d fallen asleep in Jensen’s arms, my head tucked under his chin, my leg cradled between his. My heart did a little jump in my chest. Our conversation from last night was replaying itself. As was that kiss we shared.

  Jensen had thanked me for being with him, for giving him a chance, and I was kind of blown away by that.

  It took me a few moments to realize that Jensen wasn’t asleep. At some point, his fingers were moving up and down the curve of my spine. My hands were still folded against his chest and I could feel his heart kick up, matching mine.

  “Morning,” I murmured.

  “Mmm…” That seemed to be all he was capable of saying, but he was definitely awake enough to move. One hand trailed up my side, skipping to my bare arm, and then the tips of his fingers found their way to my jaw. He tilted my head back, and my gaze met his sleepy, heavily hooded one. “Morning.”

  Before I could say anything else, Jensen lowered his head and kissed me. There was a flutter of panic. I hadn’t washed my face or brushed my teeth, and I knew I looked like a hot mess, but the infinite tenderness of his kiss swept away those concerns. The kiss was slow and sweet, an exploration, and I was lost in him.

  When he finally lifted his mouth from mine, I had pressed the length of my body against his, and he was half on his back. He slid his hands down my back and then lower, eliciting a gasp from me.

  “I need to get out of this bed or…”

  My heart tripped up as I stared down at him. “Or what?”

  He kicked his head back, his hair wonderfully messy. “Or we’re going to switch positions, end up really late for school, and most likely busted by your mother in a very awkward way.” He stretche
d up, kissing my parted lips. “Oh, and we’d probably be naked, so…”

  A heady flush traveled all over me. Being busted by my mom in that kind of situation was mortifying, but I didn’t move. I touched his cheek, running my fingers over the slight stubble.

  “Not probably.” His lips curled up in a lazy smile. “We’d most definitely be naked.”

  I bit down on my lip. My stomach hollowed at the thought of their being nothing between us.

  My voice was low, barely a whisper when I spoke. “I’ve never done it before.”

  “What?” One hand traveled up my back. He gently tugged on my hair. “Get naked.”

  Gavin and I had been together for a while, and we’d experimented. That involved getting naked, but…. “No. Not that.”

  An eyebrow rose, and then his lazy smile vanished as his eyes widened slightly. The look was almost comical. “Wait. You and Gavin never…?”

  I shook my head.

  “Not even one time?”

  “Nope,” I said, and he looked so floored one would think I’d admitted to being the Easter Bunny. “Is it really that hard to believe?”

  “Hells yeah,” he murmured, splaying his hand across my cheek. “How in the hell did he manage to keep his hands off you?”

  I shot him a bland look.

  “Sorry. I just thought…”

  “Going that far… well, it never seemed right.” I shrugged. “Not once. Not like…”

  “Not like what?” Jensen swallowed. Hard. “You and me?”

  “Yeah.”

  He stared at me a moment and then squeezed his eyes shut. “Damn. That does not help.”

  “Help with what?”

  “Not getting you naked.”

  Unable to suppress my grin, I rolled off him and he groaned. “Sorry?”

  “Uh-huh.” He threw an arm over his eyes. “Did I tell you you’re beautiful in the morning?”

  I smiled then. “No.”

  “You are.” He shifted his arm, opening one eye. “The best thing ever to see first thing in the morning.” Then he sat up. Leaning over, he kissed my forehead. “I better get going.”

  “Yeah,” I whispered, caught up in the swelling-chest thing. I knew that feeling had a name. A four letter word. Something I’d felt for Jensen for a long time, even when I wanted to hate him.

  Jensen rose fluidly and I followed him to the window. He stopped there, turning to me. His voice was low, grin wicked. “You know, I’m sure I can hang out for a few more minutes. Like if you’re going to shower, I can help.”

  “Oh no.” I smacked his chest. “I do not need that kind of help.”

  He straightened, putting his hands on my hips. “I think you lie. I think you want that kind of help.”

  My cheeks burned, because, yeah, I sort of did. “You better go.”

  Jensen chuckled before he dipped his head, kissing me. Kissing me like it was the first time and the last time. My heart was going crazy in my chest by the time he broke away and climbed back out my window.

  And it didn’t slow down.

  Not when he showed up to take me to school or when he folded his hand around mine as we walked inside. He seemed oblivious to the questioning stares. Some were confused, as if they couldn’t figure out what he was doing with me. Others just openly gawked.

  Linds was waiting for me at the locker, her head tilting to the side as we drew closer. Her gaze dropped from my face to our hands and then back to my face again.

  “Did I miss something?” she asked.

  Jensen grinned. “Miss what?”

  “There had to be a newsletter that I haven’t subscribed to.” She pinned me with a look. “Because you two are holding hands.”

  Who knew holding hands was such a big deal?

  Across from Linds, Wendy and Brock were standing together. Whatever conversation they were having with one another had grinded to a halt. I shifted, uncomfortable with the extra attention. I started to pull my hand free, but Jensen wasn’t having that.

  “That we are,” Jensen said.

  Linds’ eyes widened to the size of mini spaceships. Beyond her, Wendy jabbed her elbow into Brock’s side, who was now joined by Mason. We were getting an audience.

  My cheeks heated, and my tongue tied around the simple words that explained what Jensen and I were, but apparently he was more of a show than tell kind of guy.

  His knuckles brushed under my chin, tipping my head back to meet his lips. The kiss was not quick or chaste, and really not school appropriate. Not when my lips parted, and he took that kiss to a whole new level.

  Wendy’s inhale was like a crack of thunder, and I knew I should pull away from Jensen. Kissing like this was not something we should be doing at the given moment, but the taste and feel of him had this wonderful ability of making the world disappear around us.

  “Holy crap,” Linds said, her voice an excited whisper.

  My face was flaming as Jensen pulled back. “Does that answer your question?” he said.

  “That and then some,” she replied, grinning at me.

  I had the wild notion to laugh, and I didn’t know why, but my lips curled up as I turned, my gaze colliding with a pair of dark eyes.

  Gavin.

  He was staring at Jensen and I—at me—like one or both of us had walked up to him and punched him in the gonads. His face was pale, the shadows under his eyes darker. His expression tightened, and then he wheeled around, stalking off in the opposite direction.

  #

  Linds hounded me for details on Jensen and me the moment I walked into art class. She was convinced that we’d been having this torrid, secret love affair, and that did sound more interesting than the truth.

  Mrs. Reed, our art teacher extraordinaire, was making a bee line straight for our side of the classroom, her hands smoothing over her paint covered smock. I tried to make myself as small as possible. At the beginning of every class, she sent two students to the storage rooms to grab the paintings we were working on, and I was feeling incredibly lazy.

  Her gaze landed on Wendy. “You and Mason can go grab the paintings, please.”

  Wendy’s breath huffed out. “I’m not feeling well. Can someone else do it? Please,” she whined.

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Ella? Mason?” she said, planting her hands on her full hips. “Your turn. You know the drill.”

  Dammit.

  Linds wrinkled her nose. “Lucky you.”

  There was nothing ‘lucky’ about the way she said that, and Mason cut her a look. “I heard that.”

  She smiled sweetly. “And I don’t care.”

  Eyes wide and lips pursed, I stood and headed for the door before I got caught up in their royal rumble. Mason ended up in front of me, smacking the door open and letting it swing back. I caught it before it knocked me on my butt.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  He glanced over his shoulder, blond hair swinging. “Sorry,” he grumbled, and I thought he might’ve sounded a little sorry.

  We headed back toward the drama class, where the entrance to the storage rooms and the backstage of the theatre were. Knowing my luck, half the paintings would still be wet.

  “So you and Jensen hooking up or something?” he asked, punching open the door.

  I frowned at his back. Hooking up in guy lingo could mean a lot of things. “We’re dating.”

  “Dating?” He actually held the door for me this time. “That’s interesting.”

  My brows furrowed as I walked behind him, heading down the narrow hall. It smelled like mold and turpentine back here. “Why’s that interesting?”