A Beautiful Danger (Beautiful #7)

by Lilliana Anderson

  “Actually, Coral gave them to me yesterday.” He pulls them out to show me and I see her familiar keyring—a piece of orange coral in resin—attached to them.

  So that’s what was in his hand yesterday? And why I overheard Shane saying that he hoped Flynn knew what he was doing.... Now it makes sense. “Why didn’t anyone speak to me about this when I was sober?”

  Flynn shrugs and takes back the apple, biting it before I can respond. “Too late now, roomie.”

  I shake my head. “This is bullshit. I’m going to talk to Coral about this.” I start to walk to my room, fuming. “And the police. I’ll bet you don’t want that, right? They’ll get you out of here.” Slamming the door behind me, I pick up my phone and dial Coral’s number. It goes to voicemail; she’s probably still travelling. I leave a message, demanding that she calls me as soon as possible. I need to get to the bottom of this. I don’t believe that I asked him to move in while I was drunk. They’ve decided this without me. I can’t believe they’d all go behind my back like this.

  ***

  “I’m assuming your new roommate has moved in?” Coral and Shane appear on my phone screen via Skype.

  “I am so angry at you.”

  Coral has the decency to look a little contrite. “Just give him a chance, Ruby. He needs a place to stay while his building is getting fumigated or something. It won’t be that long. And I think this will be good for you. You can finally work out your feelings toward him.”

  “What feelings?” I practically yell.

  “Ruby, the sexual tension between you two is so thick you could cut the air with a knife.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” I dismiss her words with a wave of my hand. “How am I supposed to explain this guy in my house to Joel?”

  Shane chuckles. “Rubes, unless he walks in on you two on top of each other, I don’t think he’s going to care.”

  “Why wouldn’t he?”

  Coral and Shane exchange glances but Shane answers. “Uh, because he’s the most benign freakin’ guy I’ve ever met. I mean, seriously, how nice can a guy be?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Coral places her hand over Shane’s mouth so she can answer instead of him. “It just means that he’s....” She pauses while she thinks of the appropriate words. “A bit flat, personality-wise.”

  “I thought you liked him.”

  “I do,” she says quickly. “I just don’t like him for you.”

  My cheeks burn hot. I feel like someone has slapped me in the face. “Well, I think he’s exactly what I need. You know what I’ve been through. You both do.”

  Shane cuts in. “Yeah, we do know. That’s why we’re saying this.”

  “From the safety of another country? You went behind my back!” Frowning, I let out my breath and look away, trying not to cry.

  “Well, things were so nice at Elliot and Paige’s place. We didn’t want to ruin our last day together,” Coral offers as an excuse.

  “So you blindsided me instead?”

  “I’d hoped I’d get the chance to talk to you before he moved in.”

  “Exactly what kind of deal did you make with this guy?”

  “He covers my half of the rent for the next two weeks. It takes the pressure off you while you find a more permanent roommate. And it puts my mind at ease. I worry about you being alone. Especially when Joel is so busy at work all the time.”

  “His job is important.”

  She smiles but it doesn’t touch her eyes. “I know. And I do like him, Ruby. He’s lovely. But I think you should think about why you like him—especially when he isn’t around that much.”

  “So? I think it’s great that he’s dedicated to his work and his sport. He’s strong and ambitious. It’s on my list.”

  “Of course it is.” She smiles again. There’s something she wants to say but is too afraid of how I’ll react. I can see it in her eyes.

  “Spit it out, Coral.”

  She looks at Shane and he reaches forward to adjust the camera before speaking. “Coral... well, we just think that maybe you like the idea of this guy more than you actually like him.”

  “What makes you such an expert on my love life?”

  They look at each other again. I hate these knowing looks between them—what the hell am I missing out on?

  “It’s two weeks, Ruby,” Coral says with a sigh. “Flynn is a busy guy, so you’ll hardly see him. On the upside, you won’t be pressured financially, and it will give you the chance to relax around him so you stop freaking out every time he turns up to a group gathering.”

  “I do not freak out.”

  “You do, Rubes,” Shane puts in. “Even Brad likes the guy, and considering how protective he is of you, that’s saying something.”

  “I don’t really have a say in this, do I?”

  “Not really.” She has the nerve to look pleased with herself.

  “Two weeks?”

  Coral nods. “Two weeks.”

  “Fine,” I sigh. “But I’m not going to get to know him. I don’t like him for a reason.”

  “In the end, we only regret the chances we didn’t take,” Coral replies, the familiar words tickling my mind and causing me to turn and find the quote pinned to my inspiration board.

  “You’re using my own quotes against me.”

  “Use the two weeks to work through your shit with Flynn, Ruby.”

  “What am I supposed to tell Joel?” I say again.

  “Tell him whatever you want. Just don’t let things get so far with Joel that you’re stuck in a life you don’t really want.”

  A tear breaks free and streaks a line down my cheek. “What makes you so sure you know what I need more than I know myself?”

  “Because I’m your best friend. I love you more than anyone else ever has.”

  21

  “CALMED DOWN NOW?” Flynn asks when I exit my room some time later. I’ve dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a navy T-shirt, tying my hair up into a messy bun. I didn’t put makeup on to make a point. I don’t want to impress him. I just want to make these feelings go away. I want to stop thinking about him.

  But I don’t know how this should work.

  For a while, I busy myself in the kitchen, cutting oranges in half to make juice. I need to do something. I’m angry, and I’m confused, and if I don’t keep my hands moving I’m probably going to start clawing at the walls like a crazy person.

  It’s when I cut through the sixth orange that I realise something.

  “If you’re only here for two weeks, why did you move in all those boxes?”

  “A few boxes does not an entire place of stuff make,” he responds before muting the TV and turning to face me. “I brought what I thought I might need. I can’t get back into my place until they’ve finished.” He turns back to the TV and flicks on the sound.

  “Fumigating?”

  He shuts the whole thing off this time. “Yes. Fumigating.”

  “For what?”

  Standing with an exhale, he moves to the opposite side of the bench and folds his arms across his chest. I can’t help but notice how corded his forearms are. He obviously takes that parkour of his seriously. “Are you insinuating that I’m only here because I have some obsessive need to be around you?”

  It sounds crazy hearing him say that, but I’m trying not to doubt my gut. See, there’s this thing about guys like Flynn. They don’t tell you a lot with their words, but their body language tells a whole other story. His body language—or his vibe—gives off these strong waves of... I suppose I can only describe it as need. It’s animalistic. It’s something I have experience with. It’s something that used to excite me. But now it’s something I fear.

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  He laughs and shakes his head. But I see it in his eyes—the way they linger, the way they drink me in. I can feel his desire in my chest.

  “Would it help you to know that I’m seeing someone?”

&
nbsp; “Probably not.”

  “Good. Because it would have been a lie.” He has this way of tilting his head as he looks down on me with that half grin of his. It’s sexy. And like the song, he knows it.

  I narrow my eyes, using the knife in my hand as a pointer. “I don’t believe that I asked you to stay here.”

  “Believe it. Actually, you made me promise.”

  “That doesn’t sound like me.”

  He reaches over the benchtop and grabs an orange half, peeling the skin off with his strong fingers. “I’m going out to meet some friends. Want to tag along?” he asks, completely changing the subject before he slides a wedge of orange past his lips and chews. I can hear him swallow in the quiet of the house.

  “Why would I want to do that?”

  “I don’t know. So you don’t have to hang around here by yourself.”

  “Maybe I need to work on my ad for a new roommate.”

  He sucks some juice off his thumb and smirks. “You can do that later. Come on, it’ll be fun.”

  Looking at the cut oranges in front of me, I shake my head, about to tell him no way. But he intervenes and picks up a bowl, sweeping the cut oranges inside it before placing it in the fridge.

  I laugh at his boldness. “I don't trust you.”

  “You trusted me on Saturday night.” Then he holds out his hand. “Let’s go, Smurfette.”

  “Smurfette?”

  “Because you’re tiny and cute.”

  “I thought I told you to quit it with the pet names.”

  “What can I say? I can’t seem to quit anything when it comes to you.”

  My chest tightens. I’m not sure I can handle this situation. “Coral says we should use this time to work out our shit. Do you think there’s shit for us to work out?”

  He shrugs. “Probably. But we can do that later. Come and have fun with me. Tell that righteous little voice in your head to shut the fuck up and come with me.”

  “The righteous little voice?”

  His grin widens. “Give me an hour of your time. If you hate it, I’ll never ask you anywhere again. Deal?” He holds out his hand and wriggles his fingers in the air, tempting me with that grin.

  “Deal.” Stupidly, I take hold, his strong fingers wrapping around mine, sending a curling warmth through my entire body.

  Already I can tell these two weeks are a terrible idea.

  ***

  “This is where I die, isn't it?”

  Flynn has brought me to a warehouse in the middle of an industrial area. It seems like the perfect place to hide a body to me.

  “No. It's where you learn how to let go a little.”

  He walks a step ahead of me, checking every now and then that I'm still following. I don't know why I'm here. I don't know why I agreed to come. I knew this guy would be bad for me the moment I met him. I made it super clear that I didn't want to know him. But here we are months later and, despite my constant rebuttal, he’s forced his way into my life. Now I must decide if I'm letting him.

  “What exactly do I need to let go of?”

  He stops at an iron door and turns to face me. “Your fear,” he states, pushing it open.

  Inside, it’s a concrete jungle... gym? Frowning, I look around, taking in the barriers, the metal piping and the gym mats. Then a young Asian guy flies over a makeshift wall, somersaults and lands on his feet at a run. He doesn't even pause or falter.

  “This is where you learn parkour?”

  He leans down a little, speaking closer to my ear. “This is where I practice. It's where you'll learn parkour.”

  “Ahh, nobody said anything about me learning parkour.”

  “You'll love it. Trust me.”

  He guides me to an area where we sign in, and everyone we pass seems to know him. He’s treated like the star of the Sydney parkour show. It’s kind of impressive in a way. I never saw Flynn as a guy people liked, even though everyone seems to like him except me. It’s confusing, even in my own mind.

  On the wall there are two big blackboards with drills written on them titled ‘beginner’, ‘intermediate’, ‘advanced’, and ‘insane’.

  “Let me guess, you do the insane drills?”

  He grins. “Normally . But today I'll be helping you. Giddy up,” he says, stepping away.

  I follow, needing to almost run to keep up. “No. No. No. I'm not built for this kind of thing.”

  “Of course you are, Ruby. Every able-bodied person can learn parkour. Hell, I've seen a guy with only one leg do it.”

  Folding my arms across my chest, I narrow my eyes. “Did he lose his legs free running by any chance?”

  “Afghanistan, actually. Come this way. I'll start you off with jumping.”

  “I already know how to jump.”

  “Not like this you don’t.”

  Gripping his arm at the elbow, I pull him back and stop walking. I imagine he’s going to make me jump up and down over and over again until my legs turn into jelly. Since I’m not interested in learning how to perform death-defying stunts while running through the city, I’m also not interested in destroying any chance I have at standing up straight for work tonight. “I'm not doing this.” He lifts his brows, his expression telling me he's not interested in excuses. “I'll agree to watch you. But you can't make me do this. I don't want to.”

  He looks at me for a long moment. “OK.”

  I expected more of a fight. “OK?”

  “I'm not going to force you, Ruby.” He says it like the idea of forcing me to do anything is completely ludicrous. But isn't that how we keep spending time together—he forces me?

  He nods in the direction we're headed. “My drill starts over there. You can sit upstairs.” He points to a mezzanine level where a few people are looking down at the course.

  I make my way toward a metal staircase that winds upward.

  “Hey, Smurfette.”

  Stopping, I turn around, then mentally kick myself for responding to that nickname. Now it's going to stick. I think I liked it better when he called me ‘little one’.

  “Call out if you change your mind. Once you give this a try, you'll wonder how you lived without it.”

  “I like my feet on the ground,” I say, placing a hand on the railing as I climb the stairs.

  By the time I'm at the top, I have my phone in my hand and my head down, avoiding any eye contact with the people around me. Then I take a seat and try my hand at completing the daily puzzle on KAMI2. After several attempts of getting all those colours to match, I drop my phone to my lap in frustration and look to the level below, trying to spot Flynn.

  It doesn't take me long, an almighty cheer erupting just in time to draw my attention as Flynn somersaults off the top of a brick wall and lands on a railing, balancing for a moment before vaulting off that and adding in a backflip for fun.

  “What the hell,” I say under my breath, but I’m smiling. I’m thoroughly impressed by the athleticism it would take to pull off a series of moves like that.

  “He's definitely something. How do you know Flynn?” A girl with pink and purple hair cut in an asymmetrical bob sidles up alongside me.

  “Oh, he's....” I pause, searching for a word that describes him. ‘Friend’ is too familiar, and ‘acquaintance’ isn't familiar enough. I don't want to call him my flatmate because he won't be there long, and ‘house guest’ creates the illusion of closeness. So I go with “He's just some guy I ran into one time and can’t seem to get rid of.”

  She scoffs. “You must have made quite an impression if that’s all there is to it and he invited you here.” She looks me up and down.

  I look at her in the same fashion, then suck my tongue against my teeth. I can do bitch with the best of them. “I don’t really see how that’s any of your business.”

  “Maybe it is. Maybe it isn’t. I was just making conversation is all. No need to get uppity about it.”

  Feeling a little bad for snapping at her, I pull my brows in tight and look at my phone
as I flip it between my hands. “Sorry. I’m a little touchy today.”

  “Flynn’s fault?”

  Smiling to myself, I look down at him, watching him demonstrate the move he just pulled off for some other guy to try. “Probably my own fault, to be honest.”

  “So he’s trying to cheer you up by bringing you to his happy place,” she states. “I get it.”

  “I’m glad you do, because I have no fucking idea.”

  I turn my attention back to the warehouse floor, hoping this conversation is over so I can ignore her. But she continues to hover nearby, watching with me.

  Off to the side of the equipment, Flynn is taking a drink from a silver drink bottle while he listens to a blond guy talking animatedly in front of him, arms moving through the air like punctuation marks. There’s something familiar about him and I realise it’s Clancy from our shark dive. So this is how they know each other.

  I’m watching them for less than ten seconds when Flynn catches my eye and smiles. And it’s not just some ordinary smile—it’s one of those special, intimate smiles that are reserved for those special people in your life. My stomach flips and I take a step back, hiding, having flashbacks to the moments before we went inside the shark tank.

  “Swear it on the life of the person you care most about in this world.”

  “Fine,” he says, turning to meet my gaze, his eyes hard. A beat passes before he continues. “I swear this dive is perfectly save, Ruby. I swear it on your life.”

  Clearing my throat, I push the memory from my mind. He said he was just teasing me. Trying to change my focus, I turn back to the girl with the coloured hair, preferring to make conversation with someone who’s questioning my presence instead of facing exactly what just happened.

  “Do you do that stuff?” I wave my hand in the general direction of the training area.

  Turning around, she places her elbows on the safety rail and lounges back. “I did,” she replies, a smirk tilting the side of her neon pink lips. “I was actually on Flynn’s crew.”

  “His crew?”

  “Yeah. The one where you all go out in the city together and put what you learn down there into practice. There are different crews with different leaders depending on what your skill level is.”