SLOW BURN

by Christie, Nicole

  I start to deny it, but Nick chimes in before I can. “Yeah, what’s up with that? Girls usually get all giggly when his name is mentioned—but you…you just look pissed.”

  “It’s nothing,” I say quickly. They both just stare at me, raising their eyebrows. I blow out a breath. “No, it really is nothing. It’s stupid.”

  The guys exchange looks, then by some unspoken code, they both lean closer to me, intensifying their stare.

  I shift uncomfortably in my seat. “I don’t want to say. I’ve never even told Johnny because it’s too embarrassing.”

  “Hey, whatever it is, it won’t leave this table,” Mack promises solemnly, dark eyes serious.

  “Yeah, we swear.”

  I tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “I—it’s really stupid, guys.”

  “Would it make you feel better if Mack and I revealed something embarrassing about ourselves?” Nick asks. “That way, you can be sure we won’t tell anyone, since you’ll have something on us.”

  I pause, nosy enough to be intrigued. My thing with Dean really is stupid, and I would probably have admitted it to them after a bit more coaxing on their part. But…I wonder if they have anything juicy to reveal?

  “Okay,” I say slowly, trying to sound reluctant. I look at Nick. “What’s your big secret?”

  Nick exhales softly. He takes off his cap, and places it on the table, running a hand through his tousled chestnut hair. “You know how I’m always late? It’s because I get lost,” he blurts out.

  “That’s it?” I say disappointed, and Mack makes a disgusted noise in agreement.

  Nick looks up. “No, like…it’s really bad. If I didn’t have my phone, I’d be completely screwed, and even with it, I still get mixed up. It’s like I’m dyslexic with directions. I walk a block from my house, I get lost. I get all turned around, and I don’t even know which direction I came from. Once, I tried to take a different route home from school, and I ended up at a biker bar on Grand and Fifth.”

  “Moe’s?” Mack asks. “My cousin Suli eats there all the time. Never order their tacos.”

  “That’s not so bad,” I say comfortingly to Nick. He keeps his eyes lowered, his tanned face showing tinges of pink on his cheeks. “Lots of people are bad with directions.”

  “Yeah, Nick,” Mack adds with a little grin. “You hear about five-year olds wandering away from home and getting lost all the time.”

  “Thanks, Mack,” Nick says dryly. “So, what’s your big secret, huh?”

  The smile wipes from Mack’s face. He looks down at his hands as if silently contemplating a difficult math problem, his huge shoulders rising and falling as he breathes in and out. Finally, he looks up with a glare. “This doesn’t leave this table, right?”

  “I swear,” I say quickly, while Nick shakes his head in agreement.

  “Alright.” He gives us another warning look. “IcrywhenI’mreallymad,” he says in a rush.

  “Huh?” Nick and I say in unison.

  Mack sighs. He curls his huge hands into fists, and glares at us. “I cry when I’m really mad,” he says through gritted teeth.

  “You…cry?”

  He transfers his glare to the table. “I’ve always been like this. When I get truly pissed, the tears start flowing. I can’t turn them off. It’s like damn water works. I get so emotional, you know? I can’t—I can’t stop it.”

  I can’t stop staring at Big Mack—the size of a mountain, an island unto himself. I try to imagine tears dripping from his puppy dog eyes, a vulnerable look on his fiercely handsome features—and I just can’t do it. It’s almost comical, but I don’t dare laugh.

  It’s so cute, though! Sweet. It makes me want to cuddle him like a giant teddy bear.

  “How did I not know this about you?” Nick says incredulously. His mouth is twitching, and I pray to God that Mack doesn’t look up and notice.

  “You’ve never seen me really mad,” Mack says. “I do stuff—relaxation crap. For the most part, it works. When it doesn’t, I leave.”

  “Wait, that night at Marco’s,” Nick says suddenly, pointing at Mack. “You were about to kick the shit out of that drunk asshole for backing into your truck, but then you took off running. We all assumed it was ‘cause you had too much of that crab dip. Were you…was it because…?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Mack nods grimly. “Like a little bitch.”

  We are all silent for a moment, lost in our own thoughts. I feel a new affection for the guys, feeling closer to them, and grateful to be trusted with their embarrassing secrets. And I thought it would be weird to hang out with them without Johnny there. When did I start thinking of them as my friends, instead of just his?

  “Okay, Juliet,” Mack says, shaking his head as if to clear it. “You’re up. What’s going on with you and my boy, Dean?”

  “It’s not what you’re probably thinking,” I say, fiddling with the hem of my t-shirt. I heave a sigh. “He was my bully.”

  They stare at me with their mouths open. “Say what?” Mack says disbelievingly.

  I sigh again. “It was a long time ago. Like when I was about ten or so. I had this best friend named Diego—I always used to go over to his house to play. He lived in Dean’s neighborhood, so we all played at the same park with the same group of kids—and Dean would be so mean to me! He’d tease me, push me down…call me names. He had all the other kids calling me Fun Size! It was…it was so embarrassing.”

  I risk a peek at their faces, and I can tell by their expressions that they don’t know whether to laugh, or what. I guess it’s hard to imagine the stoic Dean they now know being an asshole bully. But he was! He made my younger years hell for a while there with his horrible taunting.

  “Dean Youngblood?” Mack says to clarify we’re all talking about the same person.

  I nod bitterly. “He thought he could scare me away from playing there because I wasn’t rich like everyone else. But I just kept coming back. I really hated him, and I know it was a long time ago, but I still—I try not to let it bother me, and I don’t expect an apology from him. I—he’s just not my favorite person.”

  “Shit,” Nick says, leaning back in his chair. “That was kind of the last thing I thought you’d say. Wow, I’m sorry, Juliet. I can’t even imagine Dean being like that.”

  “Want me to kick his ass?” Mack says darkly, lightly pounding a fist into the table. “I could make him apologize.”

  “No!” I laugh, shaking my head. “It’s all in the past. I haven’t brought it up, and neither has he, so it’s cool. I’d rather not acknowledge it, you know? We were little kids.”

  I hesitate for a moment. There’s more to the story, but I won’t be sharing it. It’s all so stupid. I know it happened a long time ago, but the experience was traumatic. Yeah, I could have played at a different park, but why should I? Stupid Gigantor Dean.

  I still have fond memories of Diego, though. He’d always try to stand up for me, even though Dean was twice his size. Too bad his mom got deported back to Canada.

  “Fun Size.” Nick is chuckling quietly, snapping me out of my musings. I glare at him. “Sorry, but that’s kind of a good nickname for you. It’s really cute—like you.”

  I try to think of something to change the subject, but my mind goes blank. Fortunately, Mack’s little sister comes wandering out. Lala, at ten years old, is already an exotic beauty. I can just imagine the beatings Mack will have to dole out to keep the guys away from her.

  Lala begs Mack to dance a new hula routine with her—and to my surprise, he gets up with her and starts moving with expert ease and finesse to the Hawaiian music playing from her iPod.

  Okay, so I never realized how sexy a guy hula dancing can be. The way Mack moves his hips in time to the beat is soo hot! His fast forceful movements somehow complement his sister’s slower, graceful ones. Hula dancing is awesome!

  When Mack offers to teach me some moves, I jump up enthusiastically. It’s so much fun! Lala shows me the girl’s way—how to mo
ve my feet, and position my arms, giggling the whole time. Mack makes Nick try it, and I start laughing so hard, I almost pee myself. Nick is a great dancer, but the way he moves his hips is—well, he looks like he’s doing something else.

  “Sit down, boy.” Mack glares at him. “This ain’t no porno.”

  Nick is grinning as he straightens from his bent-knee stance. “You said shift my hips!”

  “Yeah—I didn’t say ‘thrust!’ You’re hopeless.” Mack shakes his head at him, then points at me. “You, on the other hand—you’re a natural.”

  “Thanks.” I smile at Lala. “How long have you guys been doing this for?”

  “I started a couple of years ago, but Mack’s been doing it since he was two,” Lala informs us, pushing back her long thick hair. She grins up at her big brother. “He’s won trophies, and stuff.”

  “Really?” Nick looks at Mack curiously. “How come none of us knew this about you?”

  “Do you think I go around advertising I dance the hula?” Mack says in a don’t-be-stupid voice. His brow furrows thunderously. “This information does not leave here, understand?”

  “Who would believe me anyway, right?”

  “If you teach me, I’ll cook for you every week,” I offer, redoing my bun. It sort of fell apart during the hula lesson, and my long blonde locks spill everywhere. I need a haircut.

  “Deal,” Mack says instantly. “Can I pick the menu?”

  “Sure.”

  “Am I invited?” Nick asks hopefully.

  “Me, too!” Lala pipes up.

  The four of us make plans to meet every Sunday for food and hula lessons, and that somehow—weirdly—leads to discussions of forming a boy band, even though half of us are female. Through intense deliberation, we decide: Mack is the pretty one, Nick is the bad boy, Lala is the diva with the most fans…and I’m slightly hideous, but the only one out of the four of us with any actual talent.

  It’s completely silly, but so entertaining. I thought Mack and Nick were way too cool to let their dork sides show, but no—they’re having fun, too. Mack strikes a pose with his broad shoulders slumped back. He lifts up his shirt, rubbing his flat belly, and I almost fall over laughing at the sexy man duck face he’s making.

  Is there anything more fun than synchronized head banging?

  Or more dangerous? I whirl my head so hard, I can almost feel it disconnecting from my neck. Dizzy, I stumble backwards and fall back onto the grass.

  I’m lying there, spread-eagled, with my eyes closed, when I sense someone standing over me. Thinking it’s Mack or Nick, I crack one eye open, smiling.

  The smile falls off my face when I see Johnny looking down at me. He’s standing with his back to the setting sun, his body outlined in a dazzling pink-gold halo of light. His features are shaded, so I can’t see his expression.

  I pull myself up so I’m resting on my elbows, squinting at him. He’s wearing black board shorts, and a plain gray t-shirt that hugs the muscles in his chest and abs, its short sleeves revealing his strong tanned arms. His golden blonde hair is windblown, his cerulean blue eyes are striking and bright—and so damn sexy, I’m dizzy with want.

  Johnny crouches down next to me, close enough for our legs to touch. “Hey,” he says with a crooked smile.

  “Hey.”

  I’m suddenly shy. Why? I was making a fool out of myself in front of people I barely know—and now, confronted by the boy who’s kissed me in places my mother would have never approved of.

  Not that I would ever ask her permission. Ew.

  I sit up, shaking my head a little to clear it of such dangerous thoughts. “Why are you here?” I ask after a short pause.

  “I heard you were here.”

  Oh, really? I glance over at Nick and Mack, who are blatantly staring in our direction. When they see me glaring, they quickly look away, pretending to be in deep conversation.

  Set up again, damn it.

  I turn back to Johnny with a barely concealed sigh. “You have to stop this,” I say, looking straight into his eyes. “We’re not together anymore, remember?”

  “I remember,” he says soberly. “That doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, though. Does it?”

  “I don’t know,” I huff. Shifting away from him, I put some space between us. I hug my knees to my chest. “We’ve been broken up for a week, and I see more of you now than when we were together. You won’t leave me alone, you warn the guys in school not to date me…that stunt you pulled in the gym was so embarrassing! Now everyone knows my private business—you know I hate that.”

  “I’m sorry. I’ll back off, I swear. I got a little crazy—I realize that. Now…I’m just hoping you’ll still talk to me, and we can hang out. Would that be okay?” Johnny tilts his head to the side, his expression hesitant yet hopeful.

  “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” I say truthfully. I feel horrible when his face falls. “I’m sorry, but—it’s too soon, and I still feel…”

  “What?” he prompts softly. He reaches out to trail his fingers, feather soft, against my cheek.

  I just shrug. My heart is thumping, pounding so hard against my chest I almost want to look down to check if it’s visible under my shirt.

  There is a short profound silence. Finally, Johnny nudges my leg with his to get my attention. “Wanna go for a swim?” he asks.

  “What?” I say stupidly.

  Balancing on the balls of his feet, Johnny turns around and shouts to the guys. “Who’s up for a swim?”

  They pass, of course, their hasty excuses jumbling together. Mack says something about going inside to play some Halo, and Nick nods way too eagerly.

  “I want to swim!” Lala declares, with a sweet but predatory gleam in her eye when she smiles at Johnny.

  Mack puts an arm around her, and tows her towards the house as she squeals protests along the way. He slides open the glass door and drags her through like a reluctant puppy.

  “Nick!” I shout indignantly as he starts backing away.

  He exchanges a glance with Johnny before offering me an apologetic look. “You two have fun,” he says, turning away.

  Hm, now I see where their true loyalties lie.

  “Looks like we’ve got the whole pool to ourselves,” Johnny says with a mischievous smile. “Come on, Teeny. You know I don’t bite.”

  He stands in one smooth motion. I watch as he tugs on the back of his shirt, drawing the material over his head, revealing at first, the sun-kissed muscles of his stomach, then the smooth expanse of his broad chest. He’s careful when he pulls the material over his right shoulder, and I wonder if he’d hurt it again in Friday’s game.

  The sight of his beautiful shirtless torso affects me in a way that I have absolutely no control over. I know he knows it. He knows I know he knows it. Not so long ago, my hands had free reign over all that sleek hard body. I used to love running my them up and down the fascinating ridges and contours of his chest. I love the way it tapers down to his slim hips, and to the muscles that are hidden just below the top of his board shorts.

  He flashes his wild grin at me, no doubt reading the slack-jawed lust on my face. Leaning over slightly, he offers me a hand up.

  “Wanna get wet?”

  Oh, damn.

  ******

  Chapter 13

  Where is it written that exes can’t take a friendly swim together? Nowhere that I’d be willing to read.

  I cave, okay? I know it’s a bad idea, but—I miss him. My hormones miss him. They take one look at his shirtless chest—and there was no reasoning with them after that. They have no idea why I’m still a virgin. I’m a good girl, it’s my hormones that are slutty.

  I’m wearing a modest pink bikini under my shirt and shorts. It’s one that Johnny’s seen before, but I’m suddenly self-conscious. Maybe it’s the way he watches me as I peel off my shirt and shimmy out of my shorts. I make sure to do it in the least sexy way possible, but the way his eyes are focused on my body…I feel like I�
�m doing a striptease.

  Confused, anxious—turned on, I try to hide my emotions by walking past him, and diving into the deep end of the pool. The water envelopes my body, shockingly cool and pleasant against my heated skin. I feel a disruption next to me—Johnny must’ve jumped in. I start kicking up when I feel a hand wrap around my ankle, tugging me back down. I twist away from him, laughing unwisely.

  We surface around the same time, our hair plastered to our heads. Coughing, I reach up to fix my soggy bun, which is pulling at my scalp with its heavy weight.

  “You ass!” I splash at him.

  Johnny splashes me back, and it starts a huge war. We chase each other around the pool, and it’s almost like old times. Old times? We did this at his house a week and a half ago. Time passes by strangely when you’re newly single.

  We end up calling a truce after he launches me in the air, and I try to drown him in retaliation. We hang on to the edge of the pool, catching our breath. The sound of the water gently lapping against the filter kind of makes me have to pee, but not enough to get out and go to the bathroom.

  “So, were you, like, reading from a manual on the ten most cheesiest ways to get your girlfriend back?” I ask after a comfortable silence.

  Johnny is idly treading water next to me. “Sure,” he says with a smirk. “I checked it out of the library, from the ‘dickhead’ section.”

  I laugh, clinging to the lip of the pool. “A really popular section, I’ve heard.”

  “Yeah, lots of picture books for those of us who can’t read.” He jerks his head, flipping his wet hair out of his eyes. “Seriously, though, that would have been less embarrassing than what I really did—which was watch a bunch of those eighties movies you love for inspiration.”

  I stare at him. “You didn’t.”

  He grins. “I did, and you got off lucky. You know, I could’ve put on a leotard and started dancing for my life.”

  It’s my turn to smirk. “Oh, my god, that would’ve been epic.”