“You wanna come in?” I asked, gesturing toward my room. She glanced inside, and I followed her gaze to the unmade bed. Then further, to the opened closet door across from it. On second thought… “Actually, I have a better idea.”
Taking her hand, I led her back down the hallway. We walked through the quiet living room and across the noiseless kitchen, out through the back door. The stupid chime went off again, and I quickly shut it, sending up a silent prayer that no one followed us.
Out on the deck, I plugged in the lights strung across the ceiling. They gave off just enough glow we could see where we were going without wrecking the mood. I paused near the fire pit. The temperature had fallen to the mid-sixties, which wasn’t cold to anyone living above the Mason–Dixon, but this was Texas. For some people, that was downright chilly. I turned to Lily, and she shook her head, so I grabbed a picnic blanket from the storage box just in case, and she followed me to the patio set. I’d never been more nervous in my life.
Tonight felt pivotal. Like we were perched on an old-school teeter-totter. If I pushed up and took a chance, everything would change—we’d be in a relationship, because there was no going halfway with a girl like Lily, and my plan for the year would be toast. If I chose to stay still, senior year would be a breeze—I’d keep my priorities, focus on my family and my game, and the Boosters would be happy. Without a doubt, inaction was the choice everyone in our town would want me to make…well, everyone other than my romance-obsessed twin.
But what did I want?
The answer to that question hesitated a moment before sliding back on the two-cushioned love seat. When I sat beside her, my leg brushed against her smooth, soft skin, and I stifled a groan. A jolt of electricity skittered across my thigh, and my fingers flexed with the need to touch. Instead, I scraped them through my hair and focused on the backyard.
Only a thin thumbnail of moon was visible, leaving most of Ma’s prized garden in shadow. Her angel fountain gurgled faintly in the corner. A gentle breeze sent the wind chime swaying above us with a musical cling. Over near the tree line, a low tweep tweep made me smile.
If a fiberglass carousel frog made Lily squeal, what would she do if she knew a Rio Grande Chirping Frog was squatting less than fifty feet away? Would she scream…or crawl into my lap?
She sighed beside me, relaxing against the cushions, and I put my foot on the low table, trying like hell to do the same. My knee bounced while I breathed in her fruity, tropical scent, and I willed my racing thoughts to chill.
Minutes passed. Night sounds swelled between us. It was nice, in a way, not feeling the need to talk. Everyone in my life seemed to hate silence. Get Angéla going, and she could give a dissertation on anything. Chase constantly quoted stats or broke down games. He called it practice for his future broadcasting career. Even my parents were talkers.
Sometimes, though, I craved quiet. I liked turning off the noise and just being still. When the world went crazy around me—like it was now with Ilusiòn in trouble and Mr. Bailey’s money in my closet, or when announcers and helpful citizens chimed in with their thoughts on my performance—sitting in silence was the only way I could think.
After a few more minutes, my restless tapping slowed, and my head was finally clear enough to tease her. “So…did you have fun tonight?”
Lily laughed. “Sleepovers aren’t exclusive to high school, you know. In fact, they primarily rule elementary, and they’ll be even more fun in college. No adults or rules to worry about.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Think about it.”
What made it cute was she wasn’t flirting, at least I didn’t think she was, or insinuating anything, either. She was simply being her. I shook my head with a begrudging grin. “I guess I can give you that. Round two goes to you.”
“Yay!” Eyes wide, she held up her hands for spirit fingers, and we both laughed. The comforting scent of my mom’s flowers floated on the wind.
After another minute, Lily rested her head on the cushion. “Can you believe our lesson is in six hours? Ugh. I should warn you, my clumsiness is amplified when I’m tired.”
“I’ll be sure to wear steel-toe boots,” I replied, smirking when she sent me a mock glare. She shifted again, bringing her knees up to tuck them inside her oversize red-and-white T-shirt, and I reached over to drape the picnic blanket around her shoulders. She smiled in thanks, and I nodded to her shirt. “So, why Harvard?”
Lily pursed her lips. “Is this an off-the-challenge-record question, or are you trying to win another point?”
I laughed and held up my hands. “All rules are suspended for the night,” I promised. “I seriously want to know. Why the obsession with the Ivy League?”
“Why not?” she tossed back with a grin. “It’s where my parents met, it’s a great school, and getting in Early Action will ensure I’ve got a spot.”
I didn’t buy it. “There’s got to be more to it,” I said, and she shrugged a shoulder.
“It’s what I’ve always planned to do.”
When she rested her head again, hair falling across the worn cushions, the decorative lights—Angéla called them fairy lights—illuminated her face. A small smile curved her mouth, and as her eyes seemed to shift into a memory, a kick of attraction hit my gut.
Damn, she was pretty.
“Mom was from Boston,” she said, the gentle smile widening. “She loved growing up there and said she’d planned on staying a Yankee for life—until a cowboy stole her heart.” The last part was said with an accent, and from her wistful tone, she’d obviously been quoting her mom. “After they graduated, she followed Dad to Texas, which is why she said college was where her real life began. It was the catalyst for her happy ending.”
Lily sighed, and her mouth turned down at the corners. “Harvard was where she found her place in the world,” she murmured, almost like she was talking to herself. “It’s where I hope to find mine, too.”
I took her hand, losing the fight not to touch her and wanting to erase the lost look in her eyes. She squeezed my fingers, and her expression cleared. “When Mom was dying, we talked a lot about the future. She hated that she wouldn’t be able to see me go to college, but I told her she’d always be with me and that it was okay because she already knew what my future held. I’d make valedictorian and then go on to Harvard, the same way she did. The same way we’d planned since I was a kid.”
A cloud passed, shifting the dim moonlight across the ground. Listening to her talk about her mom, I understood why she pushed herself so hard. I also thought her reasoning was skewed, but I was in no place to judge. I was more lost than she was.
Lily released a slow, steady breath, then rolled her head along the cushion to face me. “What about you, QB? Why the fixation on high school?”
Shit. I should’ve known she’d turn the tables. Looking away, I focused on the tree house I’d built with Dad when I was eight, hoping I could wait her out.
“Please, Stone?” Her voice was soft and sweet, and there was no way I could deny her.
Sliding my hand out of her grip, I swiped my palms down the length of my basketball shorts and sank back into the lumpy cushion. My foot started tapping again. Damn. I was really going to admit this out loud.
“This might be it for me.” I paused, letting the words settle. They hadn’t been as hard as I’d expected. “People talk about high school being their glory days. That could very well be my story. Right now, I’m king. Football is my ticket to college, but no one knows what’ll happen once I get there. And after that, I’m not playing professionally. Everyone expects it, but it’s not what I want to do. The thing is, I don’t know what I want. It’s not like I’m good for much else.”
Sensing she was about to argue, I held up a hand, needing to get it out now that I’d started. “Lily, if I fizzle out in college, these could be the best years of my life. So for you to say they don’t even matter…when it’s the only thing I have going for me?” I blew out a harsh breath. “What does that say about m
e?”
Her mouth fell open. Blinking incredulously, she shook her head as she slowly slid her knees out from beneath her shirt and scooted over until our shoulders touched. Placing her warm hand on my leg, right where my skin and the hem of my shorts met, she said, “Stone, you are so much more than football.”
My teeth clenched. I didn’t need her blowing smoke up my ass. I’d had enough hero-worship to last a damn lifetime.
“I’m serious,” she said, squeezing my thigh, and sparks of energy crackled over my skin. “You’re incredible. The way you are with Angéla…the way you are with me. How protective you are. Anyone can see you’re a natural leader, and I’ve been in enough classes with you to know you’re smart. Maybe you haven’t figured out what you want to do right now, but that’s okay. You’ve got plenty of time.”
Tightening my jaw, I traced a path across the back of her hand. Pale white skin against my golden brown. Our skin tones were one of the many examples of how we were different. But listening to her, it felt like maybe Lily got me in a way other people didn’t. A strange feeling worked its way through my chest. A blend of hope and relief trailed by guilt.
“I see you, Stone. I see how you set yourself apart, even when you’re the center of the crowd. Even now, in the middle of the night, I can see you’re struggling. You take life on like it’s your job to fix everything, and you refuse to share the burden.” She squeezed my leg again, urging me to look at her. “Talk to me. Please. I want to help you handle whatever it is. You just have to let me.”
God. The emotion in my chest constricted, making it hard to breathe. How did she do it? Lily knocked down every wall I put up, saw through every front. A part of me wanted to take a chance. Tell her about Ilusiòn and, hell, screw my promise and even tell her about the deal I made with her dad. The other part wanted to change the topic and avoid this conversation altogether.
I lifted my eyes and found hers already on me, waiting. The hand on my thigh pulsed with a final squeeze…and I surrendered. At least partially. Drawing a deep breath, feeling the oxygen fill my parched lungs, I put my hand on top of hers. “Ilusiòn’s in trouble.”
Those three words set off an avalanche.
For the next five minutes, I unloaded on her—I told her how the studio had been Ma’s dream, how Dad had helped make it happen, and how I’d do almost anything to make sure they kept it. I told her everything. Everything except how far I’d already gone. Staring into Lily’s kind, compassionate eyes, I couldn’t find the courage to admit the full truth, but I silently begged her to understand. It was possibly the closest I’d get to the apology she deserved.
When I was done, the entire mess laid at her feet, Lily flipped her hand over, threading our fingers together. “I wish I had answers for you. I promise I’ll do whatever I can to help, though. Ilusiòn’s important to more than just your family. It means a lot to mine, too.”
“I know,” I told her, my voice rough from overuse. “And talking about it took some of the weight off. Not feeling alone…” I released a breath. “It helps.”
Her entire face lit up in a relieved smile, and she laid her head on my shoulder.
A sense of peace I’d never felt before rushed through my body. This girl got me. She cared, and she believed in me. More than anything else, that hit home. Her honest faith meant more than any backslap or praise I’d ever gotten on a field.
I never knew it could be like this. Girls, relationships, they’d always been so superficial. I’d taken it because I thought that was all there was, even though I’d seen my parents’ relationship firsthand. Lily made me realize their connection wasn’t a fluke. It was real.
I looked at her head on my shoulder, the fairy lights setting the red-gold strands on fire like toasted cinnamon, and my heart lodged in my throat. Swallowing it down, I asked, “Why couldn’t you have taken lessons years ago?”
She made a pleased sound, and her body curved against mine. After a moment, she lifted her head and peered up at me from beneath her lashes. “You weren’t ready for me yet.”
She smiled—not quite flirtatiously, but damn close—and her gaze fell to my mouth.
My pulse drummed in my ears. I recognized the heat in her eyes, and an answering one was already building within me. It’d been building all night. Lily’s pink tongue swiped across her parted lips, leaving them wet and glistening, and my entire world boiled down to one thought: Do they taste as good as they look?
Slowly, I raised my eyes and made my choice.
“Maybe not,” I admitted. I’d been a clueless idiot, and the truth was, I probably hadn’t been ready before. The increased pant of Lily’s sweet breath coasted across my chin, and I waited until those big blue eyes were locked on mine again before saying, “But I’m ready now.”
Her whole body went still.
Not looking away, not wanting to read this wrong, I lowered my head and watched as Lily’s eyelids drooped. She tilted her chin, offering me her mouth…and I took it.
The first brush was easy. Sweet, like her, and so damn soft. Twisting on the seat, I brought my hands up to cradle the sides of her face, and she made a low noise in the back of her throat. She grabbed hold of my wrists and pressed harder against me.
I smiled, triumphant. Then, I deepened the kiss.
Lily tasted like mint and vanilla. Groaning, I swept my tongue into her warm mouth, and she responded with a tiny, tentative flick. I felt it in my toes. Sliding a hand around her head, I knotted my fingers in the silkiness of her hair, tugging her even closer, and she sighed.
I could get addicted to that sound.
My free hand dropped to her hip. Wanting to explore but also not wanting to push, I kneaded the soft flesh through her oversize T-shirt. Lily wasn’t so cautious. Her hot skin on my stomach was like a brand, and I hissed a breath. She raked her nails across my abdomen, flinging her long leg over my lap, and I gripped her hips, yanking her higher.
With shy hands, Lily traced every line of my abs. As she did, little whimpers escaped her lips, and I sent up a silent shout of thanks to every coach who’d ever made me do a sit-up. If it kept her hot hands on me and those sexy noises in her throat, I’d do two hundred of them a day.
When air became a necessity, I broke away, sliding openmouthed kisses down her throat. Her citrus scent surrounded me. At the sensitive hollow where neck and shoulder met, I lowered my forehead, breathing her in, and wrapped my arms around her. Lily slid her hand between us and placed it over my heart, where it pounded beneath her fingertips.
My hands were shaking. My entire body felt like it’d been electrocuted. Alive and tingling and like fireballs were zinging through my veins. More than lust, this felt right. We already had a connection that was stronger and deeper than anything I’d ever experienced. Staying still may’ve been the safe choice, but I’d never taken the easy road before, and I wasn’t about to start now.
A niggle of guilt prodded my skull, reminding me of the things left unsaid, but I shoved it aside for later.
Lily shivered in my arms. Pressing a kiss at the base of her neck, I lifted my head. Her eyes were dazed, her hair a tangled mess from my fingers, and her lips were red and kiss-swollen. She was beyond beautiful.
“Wow.” Gingerly, she touched her mouth, like she was making sure it was still there. Her shoulders rose and fell on a breath, and her gaze intensified on mine. “Give me a few minutes, and then we are so doing that again.”
I busted out laughing. God, this girl. A sensation of lightness floated through my chest, and I yanked her on top of me, twisting my body as I lay us down on the cramped love seat. I’d get her back to the living room before my parents woke up.
For now, though? She was mine.
Chapter Twenty
Lily
Exhaling a short breath of confidence, I popped open Debbie’s door. Stone’s cousin Gabriel had dropped her off last night, freshly detailed, after fixing her up and pretty much cleaning out my bank account. It was totally worth it. My girl was
back and running great—or as good as she’d been before the alternator issue, anyway—and now I could turn my focus to other things. Namely, impressing my boyfriend’s parents at their family barbecue.
Gah! That word still boggled my mind. Boyfriend. Stone Torres was my boyfriend.
What the actual hey?
It was so incomprehensible that when he’d casually dropped the term while asking me to Homecoming last night—yep, I was officially going to the dance, and with the hottest guy ever to boot!—I’d actually asked him to repeat himself twice. Ever since, I’d made a habit out of whispering it to myself every thirty minutes, hoping it’d sink in. With only thirty-two hours having passed since he kissed me (eep!!!), thus kicking off our new status, I was cautiously optimistic I’d believe it eventually.
Shaking out my hands, I turned back to grab the chocolate cake I’d picked up at the bakery—because everyone liked chocolate, right?—then walked to the front door. The lively beats of a Spanish song floated on the wind, and I bopped my head to the rhythm. After knocking a couple times with no answer, I tried the bell, and when I got the same result, I figured they’d already moved things outside. Following the delicious scent of charred meat and the music that was quickly becoming my life’s soundtrack, I made my way to the backyard.
At the gate, I hesitated. Would it be rude to let myself in? After all, I’d only known this family a couple weeks. Then again, they had invited me, and after getting this close to whatever was on that grill, there was a high probability my stomach would revolt if I left.
Deciding to fake a confidence I didn’t feel, I rolled back my shoulders. Putting on a smile, I lifted the latch and entered the loud, boisterous backyard.
Three steps in, my feet froze.
The entire Torres family was laughing. Big belly laughs, quiet giggles, and every happy noise in between. Mr. Mike and a woman I assumed was his mother were spinning and twirling across the yard, maneuvering around a large dining table and past rosebushes as air shimmered above the grill. Angéla and Viktória—I should probably call her Mrs. Viktória—stood with their heads together, watching the mother-son dance, and Stone observed from the love seat…the same love seat where he’d kissed me two nights ago…with a small smile on his lips.
Eyes on Me Page 18
