Sydney clears her throat and tips her cup. She doesn’t look at me as she sucks the rest of her drink back. A few moments later she responds with, “God, you’re drunk.”
“I am,” I say and ease up to a sitting position.
Vodka clearly has a different effect on me than beer, but maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe what I need to do is say what I feel more often—in the moment that I actually feel it. I take a deep breath. I have two choices here; I can backtrack, blame it on the booze and laugh it off. Or I can be honest about what’s happening to me.
I’m falling for her. I look at her and my heart skips a beat. I find her odd gestures and outbursts endearing and even though she doesn’t look like most of the girls our age—she smells like soap instead of perfume, she doesn’t have weirdly long eyelashes, her lips aren’t unnaturally shiny and it doesn’t even look like she wears makeup—it doesn’t matter. She doesn’t need it. Her skin is perfect, creamy looking, like if I touched it, it’d feel like feathers. There’s something about her that’s just…so damn hot. Something that makes me want to stare at her all the time. Kind of like I am right now. I’m totally into her and I can’t help myself.
“Are you okay?” she asks. “Do you want some water, maybe?”
I shake my head. “I’m fine. I’m drunk too. Just like you said. But that doesn’t mean I don’t mean what I said. I really am glad I came here tonight and I really do like being with you. I like you.” I get down on my knees and sit on the floor next to her, then reach up to touch her face. “Can I kiss you, Sydney? I really want to kiss you.” I smile. “Again.”
“Um, I don’t know if—”
I don’t give her a chance to finish her sentence. I don’t believe I should. Maybe it’s rude or even a little presumptuous, but I can see in her eyes what I feel in my heart. It sounds cheesy as hell, but I’m pretty sure she wants me to kiss her too.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Sydney
Holy shit, he’s kissing me. This hot, sculpted, incredible smelling, totally firm, jock is touching me. At will. StingRay Carlson’s lips are on top of mine and they feel fucking incredible. He’s holding my face between his hands. He’s pulling me closer. And he’s making cute little noises.
Wait. Was that a burp? Gross. Definitely a burp.
Before I can process, Ray jumps to his feet and bolts toward the bathroom. The gagging and hurling sounds that follow make me cringe.
“Are you okay?” I call.
Ray responds with a groan.
Shit.
I gingerly make my way to the bathroom. Before I’m even standing outside the door, my hand is covering my mouth and nose. As always, it goes down nice and comes out rotten.
“Hey,” I say, doing my best to hold my breath. “Why don’t you get out of those clothes? You can jump in the shower and I’ll run them down to the laundry.”
Ray nods, still not turning to face me. “All right.”
“There are towels in that drawer over there. I…don’t think I have anything that will fit you, but it shouldn’t take long to run your clothes through the washer. Just leave them outside the door, okay?”
He nods again. “Thanks.”
“Aren’t you drunk at all?” Ray sips his cup of coffee and wrinkles his nose. “This stuff is terrible.”
“Does the job.” I smirk. “Sobers you up, but not too much. And yes, I’m drunk. Kind of. I just know how to hold mine.”
I toss his freshly cleaned boxers in his direction and turn my back. “We should get some rest. We’ve got a long drive ahead of us tomorrow.”
We haven’t talked about the kiss. In fact, he’s avoided looking at me for the last hour and half. He just sat there, wrapped in a towel, leaned back on the armchair.
His chest is smooth, which I totally didn’t expect, considering the amount of hair on his arms. I wonder if he shaves. I’m so tempted to feel how smooth his skin is it’s killing me. This guy needs to cover up, before I lose my mind and jump him.
Damn it. I considered him attractive the first time I saw him. All right, so his looks validated his god status in my eyes. And after that first kiss at The Rainier I fantasized about doing it again. But now? His lips were so soft and warm. And his kisses were strong, but not aggressive. I’ve never been kissed like that. Josh was a terrible kisser. Sloppy and disgustingly wet. But Ray? It’s like he’s been practicing all his life. Who am I kidding? Of course he has. Just look at him.
He steps into my view. “I’m decent,” he says, then he sighs. “And exhausted.”
“You take the futon,” I say.
“No way. I’ll sleep on the floor. “
“You have to drive tomorrow. You need the rest.” If I have to have a perfect view of his bare chest and bulging thigh muscles for the rest of the night, I’m not going to sleep. And yes, I’ll probably jump him.
“Fine,” he says. “We’ll share.”
What? No.
“I’m fine on the floor,” I say. “It’s okay. You’re my guest.”
“And I almost puked on you.”
My heart slams against my chest and Ray drops his gaze.
Yes, but not before you kissed me and rocked my fucking world. There’s no way I can sleep in the same bed as him. I don’t even know how I’m going to sleep in the same apartment without having embarrassing and quite possibly revealing dreams.
“I’ll take one end, you take the other. “ He tosses me my pillow and I narrowly catch it.
Then I follow him over to the bed and climb in, pressing myself as close to the wall beneath the window as possible.
Ray eases in next, lying on his back and draping an arm over his forehead. “Never again,” he moans. “Just beer from here on out.”
I giggle and hug my pillow to my chest. I successfully out drank a guy. No a six-foot three, two hundred fifty pound jock. Not that I should be super proud of the accomplishment, but it is pretty funny.
“Are you seriously laughing at me right now?” Ray asks, his voice gravelly.
“Can you blame me?”
“No, I guess not.”
I close my eyes and listen to the sound of his breath as it wavers and then grows steady. I tune out my own breathing and the distant sirens, as I imagine his face just a little closer to mine. And the way his breath would feel against my cheek. I don’t know how much time passes but sleep won’t come. Ray has begun to snore lightly and I get the annoying urge to snuggle up beside him.
Shit. What is wrong with me? Well, other than the fact that he’s insanely hot and lying half-naked at the other end of my bed? Oh and that I made out with him for the second time in two days. Even if it was only for thirty precious seconds?
I sigh.
It’s got to be at least three in the morning and I’m wide awake—certain parts of me more than others. I squeeze my legs together and hug my pillow tighter.
Then I take a deep breath through my nose, trying my damnedest to catch a scent of him. And that musky cologne he wears. But all I smell is my cocoa butter soap and vanilla scented dryer sheets. If I could just touch him. Maybe that’ll satisfy me. Then I can stop fantasizing about the way his smoldering skin felt against mine and finally get some sleep.
I push my leg forward slowly and try to mentally picture where he is on the bed in proximity to me. I don’t want to touch the wrong part, or kick out too quickly and wake him. That wouldn’t be humiliating at all.
I can practically feel the heat radiating from his body as I draw closer and as my toe grazes his leg, I bite my lip. Nope. This isn’t enough. Not even close. I want more.
“Your feet are cold.”
Oh, God. I pull my leg back quickly and bury my face in my pillow. Too late to pretend I was sleeping now. Smooth move, Syd.
“Sorry,” I mumble.
“It’s alright. I’m sure you’re used to having this bed to yourself.”
Ouch.
“I mean…I didn’t mean…” He clears his throat. “Can’t sleep?”
“Nope.�
�
“Even after all that vodka?”
I laugh. “With me, there’s a small window and if I don’t jump through it, I’m up all night. Especially if I’m drinking and thinking.”
“What did you just say?”
“Drinking and—”
“Thinking,” he cuts in. “Holy crap, Syd. What are you like my soul mate or something?”
I bite my lip. He just called me Syd. Now I want to throw my arms around him. I’m acting like a total girl. It’s getting completely out of control.
“So, what’s on your mind?”
“Nothing.” I say it way too quickly, but he doesn’t seem to notice.
The bed shifts and before I can protest, not that I’d know what to say if I did, we are face to face—Ray lying on his side directly across from me.
“I lied earlier. My parents didn’t die in a car crash.”
“What?”
“Sometimes I just say that. Because it’s easier than the alternative.”
“What’s the alternative?” I sit up, the urge to smack him so strong I have jam my hands between my knees. Who lies about something like the death of a parent? This guy’s a real piece of work. And here I was fantasizing about his stupid lips on mine.
Ray bolts up next to me. He must get the sense I’m about to rip into him because he shakes his head so hard his hair flutters into his eyes. “They really are gone. I didn’t make that up. I’d never make that up. It’s just more complicated than that.”
“How?”
“My mom died of food poisoning.” He scoffs. “Who dies of food poisoning?” He shakes his head again, running his fingers through that beautiful dark hair. “And my dad, I don’t know. We never really talked about it. I just knew he was gone. There was a motorbike accident. I know he spent some time in jail. Whenever I’d go into the city, I’d hear the rumors but I never stuck around long enough for anyone to elaborate. People would always point and stare—they all knew me, but I didn’t know them. I didn’t want to.”
“Your family never told you what happened?”
“I never asked. At least not once I was old enough to remember. My parents are a sensitive subject. So I just don’t bother to get into it. Plus, I figure it’s better to count your blessings than drudge up the past.”
“But you deserve to know. I mean, how are you supposed to move on if you don’t know anything about them.”
“It’s okay, Syd. I don’t need to know. It’s better that way.” He reaches over the edge of the bed to pick something up and flips on the floor lamp. He’s holding his wallet, fingering through it until he pulls out a small square paper. He hands it to me with a smile. “This is all I need to fuel my curiosity. It’s always been good enough.”
The man and woman in the old crinkled photo look almost as perfect as he does. But he’s clearly the much better model. She’s wearing a white dress and he a black t-shirt with a blazer on top. He’s kissing her cheek and both of them are staring straight at the camera.
The girl is stunning and I suddenly don’t feel as stupid as I did about thinking his aunt was his birth mother. Despite the bright smile on her perfect face that starkly contrasts the scowls her sister’s been throwing my way, they might as well be twins. She’s got the dark hair, those sapphire blue eyes and a pair of lips and a nose that likely make other women seriously consider plastic surgery. And the guy? Holy shit in a frying pan. Except for the bright blue eyes he clearly got from his mother, Ray looks just like him. Too hot to touch.
“They’re so young,” I say, stroking my finger over the photo.
“It was taken over twenty years ago. They were both our age. I was a baby. They’d just gotten married. It’s the only photo of the two of them I could find. I honestly don’t think there are anymore. They weren’t married for long before…”
I hand him the picture back and he carefully tucks it back in his wallet.
“If you were a baby, then your sister…”
“She was born the same day my mother died. I think it’s why she takes life so hard. Survivor’s guilt maybe? My mom was determined to save her. The doctors wanted to help her but all she cared about was Mariah. If she hadn’t, my sister would probably be gone.” He smiles. “We don’t talk about much when it comes to my mom, but we’ve all heard that story a million times. My aunt and sister used to have it out something fierce. Screaming at each other. Mariah talking about how unfair her life was, Mom reminding her how lucky she is to be alive. I think it’s the only time she ever brought up my mother at all.”
I hug myself and chew on the inside of my bottom lip. It sounds awful. And to think I’ve spent the last two years feeling sorry for myself. When I had a dad who was pretty much there with me my entire life. And a mom who didn’t do anything but make me feel safe.
“Why is your aunt so…angry?”
Ray chuckles. “She’s not. Not really. She’s been through a lot. I think life just got to her. She’s sacrificed a lot. I think she just doesn’t know how to process it sometimes. And the screaming matches, I didn’t mean it how it sounded. Mariah isn’t an easy one to deal with. I’ve had a few with her myself. She gave our parents hell for a lot of years. And it wasn’t really fair. They both deserved more. That’s why I don’t press them for information about the past. I don’t even talk about it. I just live in the now. It’s the best way.”
Considering everything he’s just told me I can’t even begin to understand how this guy ended up the way he did. A friendly hotter than hot giant with the kindest eyes I’ve ever had the extreme pleasure of gazing into.
“Do you really think raising you was a sacrifice?” I ask.
He nods. “Yeah. I do.”
“Well, why? You’re family. You were just a baby.”
“My aunt had a life before me. She was in love pretty deep once. But she left it all behind to take care of us all because my mother asked her to.”
“How do you know?”
“I overheard her an Uncle Dave arguing one day.” He shrugs. “First time I realized they weren’t actually married.”
“What?” I can’t stop my mouth from dropping open.
Ray sighs. “Nope. Just two friends raising two kids together. Apparently he was my birth mother’s high school sweetheart and they were really good friends.”
“Your family is so messed up.” The moment I say it, I clap my hand over my mouth. “Oh, my god.” It comes out in a muffle and I close my eyes. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that how it sounded. I should shut up now.”
Ray reaches for his wallet and replaces the photo. “Me too,” he says with a light laugh. “You’re too easy to talk to, Syd. I’m still trying to figure out how I feel about that. It’s a damn good thing you’re not a reporter.”
I lie back down and draw in a deep breath.
Ray settles into the bed again, only instead of finding his way to the other side like we agreed, he rolls onto his side, propping his head up and with one arm and staring down at me. “I can’t stop thinking about my sister,” he says. “I wonder what she’s been doing all these years. I mean, besides sitting in a jail cell. I just feel so awful. I wish I could have helped her. You know, I went home and told my aunt we were driving to Idaho tomorrow. You know what she said? That I was wasting my time. Not in so many words, but I found out they gave up on Mariah years ago. They stopped looking. And all this time…so did I.”
“You didn’t know,” I say. My mind is suddenly on the mints in my desk drawer. I have vodka breath. I remember laughing at him when he finger brushed his teeth after his shower, now he’s all fresh breathed and I smell like the bottom of a bottle.
And now I’m starting to sweat. The urge to throw my sheet off and scramble to the other side of the bed is overpowering.
“I can’t stop thinking about earlier either,” he says. “About the…kiss.”
I freeze. Then smile, lightly. But inside I’m grinning like a maniac.
Me neither.
“It was�
�” He falls onto his back and lets out a heavy sigh.
Kind of earth shattering. I mean, I’m not exactly the dramatic type, but minus the burping and the puking…damn.
“I shouldn’t have done that.”
“What?” The question comes out in a squeak.
“I feel like such an idiot. I practically attacked you and…it was wrong. It was inappropriate and spur of the moment and I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“You keep saying that to me. But it’s not. I was drunk and it shouldn’t have happened. You’re such a nice girl and I feel like every encounter we have pretty much revolves around me and my needs. Me apologizing for one thing or another. I totally took advantage of you and I feel like an ass. I am an ass.”
No. He’s not. “You’re not. I li—” Hold on, Sydney. He just told you he regrets kissing you. He blamed it on the alcohol. Are you really going to humiliate yourself further? You liked it, but apparently he did not. “It’s cool. Don’t worry about it. Hard liquor will make you do crazy things.”
I turn my head to sneak a glance. His eyes are beginning to droop and his mouth is parted slightly.
“Do you have a driver’s license?’ he mutters.
“Yeah.”
“Can you drive in the morning?”
“Sure.”
“Night, Syd.”
“Goodnight, Ray.”
“Sweet dreams.”
He has no idea.
I wake up first and consider myself very lucky. My legs are tangled with his and my head just inches from his chest. Ray is still knocked out and one of his arms is slung over my waist. For a few minutes, I just lie there imagining. This isn’t happenstance. It’s fate. He’s supposed to be here with me. And I’m supposed to feel this good. I can’t imagine feeling any better.
Ray stirs and I pull away. Bolting up, I climb off the bed and grab my robe.
“Hey.” He rubs his eyes then stretches out across the futon with a groan. “Morning.”
I turn my face from the set of bulging quads peaking out from beneath the blanket and head toward the bathroom.
Blitz (Emerald City/Black Family Saga Book 1) Page 10
