by Lauren Layne
I swallow dryly. “And what?”
Reece shakes his head. “Nothing.”
It’s not nothing. I know exactly what he saw in my eyes that night. Love.
But he doesn’t say it, and I sure as hell am not about to.
Darla brings out our food, and the rest of our meal is mostly silent, both of us lost in thought, or memories, or in my case…jealousy.
In high school, there was only ever one person who caused a ripple in our friendship and that was Abby. They dated for two years, and I was always aware that she had everything I didn’t. The prom picture. The holding hands. The football games.
She was the girlfriend, and she was also very careful to keep me in my “kid sister” role. Abby made a big deal about being cool with my and Reece’s relationship, but always in a slightly condescending way, as though wanting to remind him that I was practically his sibling.
Best day of my life was learning they broke up when she went off to college.
No, that’s not true. Best day of my life was when Reece kissed me for real.
But the worst day of my life was when I realized that though he might be sleeping with me, his heart was still with her—with the high school sweetheart who went away to college only to come running back to his open arms, while I, the pathetic, adoring rebound, looked on.
Literally looked on.
“Lucy.”
I look up when I see Reece watching me, and even though he looks guarded and frustrated there’s something else there too. Something vulnerable, even a little tender.
Then he shuts it down. “Never mind.”
He nods at my mostly empty plate. “You done?”
I nod.
Reece pulls out his wallet, throws a couple bills down, and scoots out of the booth, heading toward the front door.
“We can split it,” I say, grabbing my purse and his jacket, and chasing after him.
He doesn’t bother to respond, and I nearly slam into his back as I follow him into the storm.
I see immediately why he’s come to a halt, understand exactly why he’s swearing under his breath.
The parking lot is a swimming pool. “Holy crap,” I yell over the whining wind, lifting my hands to shield my eyes so I can look toward Horny. The water’s more than halfway up the tires. “What happened?”
“Guess they weren’t dicking around with the flash flood warning,” he replies.
I glance up at him. “What now? We can’t drive in this. And Darla said the freeway was flooded too.”
Reece scans the parking lot before pointing to our right.
It takes me a second to realize what I’m looking at. Dim neon lights read Motel, except with the t burned out. Even through the fierce rainstorm I can tell that the motel hasn’t seen a single upgrade since the Reagan administration.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Reece grins at me, looking deliciously boyish, and yet the way the shirt’s plastered to his torso all over again is solidly man. “Yup. We’re staying at Moel.”
With that, he grabs my hand, pulling me toward the car so we can get our stuff, and I squeal in horror as I follow him through water coming all the way over my ankles. Apparently wherever we are has seriously crappy drainage.
“We can’t stay at that gross place,” I call after him, trudging toward the car.
He glances back, happy smile still in place, as though he’s enjoying this. “Scared?”
“Um, yes. Of herpes. Mold. Bedbugs.”
Reece laughs low and loud as he pulls the keys out of his soaking jeans and pops the trunk. As I stare at his happy profile, it hits me that the thing I should really be scared of is standing right in front of me: the boy who once broke my heart, and who I’m terrified will soon have the power to do it all over again.
Chapter 25
Reece
To the surprise of no one, the motel has plenty of rooms available. No need for us to share a room.
I tell myself I’m relieved. Relieved that there will be a wall and two doors separating me from the soaking wet, laughing Lucy.
How long since I’ve seen her like this, I wonder, as we dash from the check-in desk to our rooms.
How long since I’ve been like this? Light, and carefree and…happy?
Not since my dad got sick, certainly.
Maybe not even since I’d locked eyes with a heartbroken Lucy over the blond head of Abby Mancuso and known that my life would never be the same, that I would never again feel as happy as I had that summer when Lucy had looked at me like I was the light of her life—like I was worthy.
But I’m feeling something close now. Got a glimpse of what my life could have been like when I stupidly kissed her on the side of the freeway yesterday like a guy who couldn’t help himself.
Because I couldn’t. Nothing could have stopped me from kissing Lucy at that moment, her looking all proud and victorious and sweaty, and mine.
Yesterday, she’d been dangerous to me, and the situation’s only getting worse. More intense.
I know it feels like hippie horseshit, but I have the weirdest sense that this apocalyptic rain is somehow cleansing. Like, it’s washing away the crap of the past few years, clearing away the memories that haunt us both.
The motel’s parking lot isn’t nearly as flooded as the diner’s, but it doesn’t really matter. We’re soaked through, my leather jacket probably ruined, but I don’t care.
I don’t care about anything but the fact that we’re both smiling, and maybe a little about the fact that Lucy’s green tank top is plastered against her body, revealing the outline of her bra, and if I stare hard enough, the outline of her nipples.
We’re trudging across the parking lot, nearly to the rooms, when Lucy’s foot hits a slick patch of mud. She’s headed toward falling on her ass, but I catch her just in time, pulling her full against me.
With wet bags sandwiched uncomfortably between us, both of us cold and shivering, the moment shouldn’t be sexy.
But when she lifts her eyes to mine, framed by the wet spikes of her long lashes, her eyes dark and smoky, partially from her smeared makeup, partially from the heat between us…
Damn but I want her. Always her.
Maybe only her.
I drop my eyes to her mouth, lowering my head slightly, slowly. I’m giving her time to move away, bracing myself for rejection.
And it’s a good thing too, because she pulls away, just a little, but it’s enough. Enough to tell me to back off.
Apparently the healing power of this plague rain can wash away some of the bad blood between us, but not all of it.
I reach for her bag, slinging it over my free shoulder, hoping she’ll think that was my plan all along. That I’m not obsessed with tasting her again, finding out if her mouth is as perfect against mine now as it was yesterday.
The wind has picked up, and I remember the tornado warning. I nod for her to continue toward the rooms, not that this ramshackle building provides any kind of protection if the weather decides to go all Wizard of Oz on us.
Despite the fact that the motel is a million years old, they’ve surprised me by having upgraded to plastic key cards instead of old-school keys, and Lucy laughs as her slick fingers fumble hers to the ground.
As has become our habit, I wait to see her into her room before going into mine, and with her turned away from me, I let myself take in the slim line of her back, the curve of her ass beneath the jean shorts…
“I can’t wait to see what sort of paradise awaits,” she says as she slips the key into her door.
The light flicks green, and Lucy twists the door handle to push it open….
The door doesn’t open, and we both stare down at the cheap doorknob that now sits uselessly in Lucy’s hand, no longer attached to the door.
“Well then,” she says. “Can’t say I didn’t see that coming.”
She laughs again, turning and looking back toward me, her smile still happy in spite of the weather. “You c
an just drop my bag here. I’ll run back to the front desk, see if they have another room open.”
I’m about to tell her to forget it—that I’ll go, when I see movement out of the corner of my eye.
I turn to my right, see that the man staying in Room 9 has come to see his new neighbors, and the dude is…
Creepy as fuck.
Wispy gray hair, faded wife-beater, ugly khakis, and eyes that fall onto the crazy side of weirdo.
Eyes that don’t even see me, because they’re locked onto Lucy.
Oh, hell no.
I’m not sending her back into the storm to get a new key, and I’m sure as hell not leaving her here alone. But both of us going to get a new room seems stupid, especially since no way am I letting her out of my sight with this guy lurking about and her only protection a flimsy door.
She shifts uneasily under the guy’s scrutiny.
Fuck it.
I drop a possessive hand low on her waist, pulling her toward my door, shifting so that I mostly block the guy’s view of her, giving him a fierce Get back in your room look.
He finally seems to register my presence, his expression borderline sulky as he slinks back into his own room.
I see the curtains of the windows move, and glance down at Lucy, smiling when she mouths creeper.
I open the door and we both wince. We’ve stayed in some pretty shitty motel rooms so far, but this one takes the cake.
“At least it doesn’t smell?” Lucy says, as I shut the door and use the dinky chain to lock the door.
I toss both our bags on the bed, wincing when it sags more than it should. Maybe sleeping on the floor will be a blessing.
Then I glance at the carpet, noting the iffy stains.
Or not.
Lucy unzips her bag, plucking at her tank top with two fingers, and I grind my teeth not to notice the way it clings. “How good does a hot shower and dry clothes sound right now?”
Right now I’m a lot more intrigued by Lucy in the shower than I am dry clothes. My mind flashes to the thought of us showering. Together. Me crowding her against the wall, my hands all over her soapy body, my lips on her neck as she tips her head back, moaning with pleasure.
God, I love the way she used to moan.
“I’ll go see about getting us another room,” I say in a low voice.
She spins around. “Oh, don’t leave me. That guy next door…”
“Has the muscle definition of a four-year-old. Flimsy as that lock is, he’s not getting through.”
“Please. Stay.”
I meet her eyes. “I can’t stay here in this room with you, Lucy. Not with one bed. Way too much temptation.”
She cups her elbows with her palms and seems to curl into herself. “Temptation because it’s me, or just because it’s been a while since you’ve gotten laid?”
My temper surges. “I’m not an animal. I don’t run after anything with tits.”
Lucy says nothing, and that pisses me off further, and I take a step closer. “That’s what you think, isn’t it? That I don’t have an ounce of decency, that I’ll get my rocks off with anyone who offers.”
“Not just anyone,” she says in a small voice.
She doesn’t say anything more, but I know exactly what she isn’t saying, and complete the sentence for her. “Just Abby Mancuso. Is that it? Jesus Christ, would you let that go? I’m not still hung up on my high school girlfriend.”
She doesn’t meet my eyes, and now I’m pissed. I swipe a hand over my face, ignoring the fact that I flick water all over the place. What we both need is a towel to dry off, some distance both from the happiness of five minutes ago, and the anger of now.
It keeps happening this way with us, and I’m damn sick of it. Push pull, flirt fight, laugh…
And now this.
Whatever this is. Another fight, I suppose, but I just, I don’t…
“I’m so sick of this, Lucy. We can’t keep doing this.”
“Then you shouldn’t have agreed to the road trip!”
I step closer. “Don’t put this all on me.”
“But it is all on you!”
“How the fuck do you figure that?”
“You ruined us. We had something perfect, and you ruined it.”
Fine. She wants to have this out, let’s fucking do it.
I move even closer to her until we’re toe-to-toe, face-to-face. “No, you ruined it. You left. I was your summer fling before your real life began. You always made that perfectly clear.”
Her head tilts up to mine, her mouth parts in surprise, and I wonder…have I never said it? Have I never told her how much it hurt to have her disappear from my life?
I tell her now. “You were my everything, you were the one thing in my life that kept me centered, and you only ever talked about leaving.”
“Abby was your center,” she whispers. “She was your girlfriend for two years, and—”
“Stop.” My hand lifts, my thumb brushing the dampness from her cheek, not sure if it’s rain or tears. “She was my girlfriend, not my best friend.”
She swallows. “That was Craig.”
I laugh, and drop my hand. “Jesus, you’re stubborn. You refuse to acknowledge that you mattered?”
“Reece.”
I turn away and go to the door. “I’m going to get my own room. Lock the door behind me.”
“Reece!”
I don’t turn back. I’m going in circles with this girl, and it has to stop. She’s right. I shouldn’t have agreed to the road trip. Hell, I shouldn’t even have entered her orbit. She ruins everything.
She ruins me.
“Reece!”
I’m halfway across the parking lot, and I barely hear her over the still-thundering rain, but now I do turn back. “Damn it, Lucy, get back—”
She apparently didn’t expect me to stop, because her body slams into mine, our breath whooshing out, although I think it’s more from the proximity than it is the collision.
“I really mattered?” she asks, breathing hard and looking up at me.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to punish her. To say yes, she mattered, but to emphasize the past tense. She mattered once. No longer.
But damn it. She does matter. Present tense.
I don’t have the words. I’ve never had the words to tell her how I felt about her back then, and I don’t have them now. Hell, I’m not even sure I know how I feel about her right now.
She’s stubborn and provocative and infuriating, and…
Fuck it.
I plunge a hand into her hair and pull her face up to mine so that my mouth can claim hers.
I groan the second our lips touch, and my fingers flex slightly in her damp hair when I feel her stiffen. Don’t. Don’t pull away.
Then Lucy’s lips soften beneath mine, leaning into the kiss as her arms wind around my neck.
I tell myself to keep it casual, to not devour her in the middle of a parking lot during a summer thunderstorm from hell, but restraint’s never really been my thing, especially not with Lucy Hawkins.
Her kiss is both sweet and dangerous, both teasing and passionate, and lest she get confused about who’s driving this kiss, I slide my hand down slightly, gripping the back of her neck as my other arm wraps around her, dragging her all the way against me.
I nudge her lips apart and she lets me in with a soft gasp.
Mine. Always mine.
Lightning flashes, thunder barks, and the wind rips the rain viciously against us, but I don’t notice. I’m not aware of anything but her and her warmth.
Lucy’s nails claw at my head, my neck, and each nip of pain is the perfect counterpoint to the softness of her mouth.
I was right. Nobody tastes like Lucy, no girl’s soft moans have ever got me at the gut level like hers have.
If only she’d given me a chance all those years ago, if only she’d stayed—
I tear my mouth away, pushing her back none-too-gently.
She stumbles a littl
e, and I reach out a hand to steady her, but she finds herself quickly and shakes me off. “Regrets already, Sullivan?”
Her tone is snide, and I blink through the sheet of rain. Just like that we’re fighting again.
She opens her mouth, and I hold up a hand. “Don’t. If you’re going to say something about other women, or fucking Abby, just save it. You think whatever you want about me, but I’m done pretending that your opinion matters.”
Without another word, I walk away. Let her see how she likes it.
I get the key to another room, one door down from Lucy’s original room.
When I get back, my bag’s outside the door.
I glance toward the door where the creeper is staying, then rap an impatient knuckle against her door. “Lucy. This door locked? I know you’re mad, but don’t forget the creepy neighbor.”
There’s no answer, but a second later my phone buzzes.
Yes. And for what it’s worth, I’d rather deal with HIM than YOU.
I roll my eyes and pick up my bag. I see we’re reaching new heights of maturity today.
I go into my room, which is every bit as gross as the one she’s staying in.
I lie on the bed, but I keep jumping off the mattress with every thump, every creak, looking outside every half hour to make sure the creeper keeps his distance from Lucy.
In between these bouts of protecting her, the kiss plays on repeat in my head like a movie, and even when I drift off to sleep, she’s waiting there too, consuming my dreams.
That’s no surprise though.
Lucy Hawkins has been doing that for years.
Chapter 26
Lucy
My scribbling in my travel journal is so ferocious that my pen tears the page.
I heave out a sigh, breathing hard as I look down at the torn paper, my usually friendly, looping handwriting all hard and slashy, as I rant about how Reece keeps proving again and again that he’s not long-term material. He’s the sort of guy you chase in the rain for a hot kiss, not the sort of guy you walk down the aisle toward.
A summer fling? That’s what he thought he was? I was thinking of marrying the idiot, and he thought it was just a summer fling?
