by Beth Andrews
She didn’t move a muscle.
“I should go,” he said, his voice soft and gruff.
Not trusting her voice, lest she say something stupid that guaranteed to set him running and not ever looking back, she nodded.
She waited, breath held, eyes locked on his. He didn’t go. Didn’t turn to break the spell that had been woven between them, that had the room suddenly warming. Shrinking.
“I’m not perfect,” he said into the silence, a stark, blurted confession.
“I don’t want you to be,” she whispered. “Would never ask you to try and be perfect.”
She would never put that pressure on him. Was that what had happened to him growing up? Had he felt the need to be the good guy, to play the peacemaker? Or was he simply tired of people only seeing a certain side of him?
“No,” he said, thoughtfully, “you’re not asking me to be perfect. Just to put my wants ahead of everyone else, ahead of everyone I care about most. Ahead of what’s best.”
Her heart started thumping so hard in her chest, she was afraid he could see it. He knew. He knew she wanted him to kiss her. That she just wanted him. “I’m not—”
“You are. And the worst part? When I’m standing here looking at you, smelling your perfume, having you so close to me, I’m not even sure why I’m fighting it. I can’t even remember why I would want to fight it.”
She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. He stepped forward and slid one arm around her waist, pulled her slowly, yet insistently, toward him. His other hand went to her neck, where he slid it behind her head, his hand in her hair. Cupping her head back, he lowered his head and kissed her.
His mouth was smooth and warm and firm and moved slowly, expertly, over hers. Oakes Bartsavich was kissing her. He was finally kissing her. It was like a dream come true.
And she was standing there like a ninny, her arms at her sides, her eyes wide open, her mouth unmoving.
Crap.
He lifted his head and sent her a quizzical look and she knew she’d blown it. She’d dreamed of their first kiss for so long, for so many years, and instead of it being the magical, perfect moment she’d always imagined, it’d been as awkward and strange as her cousins had feared it would be.
Not because they’d been friends, but because she was too nervous, too worried about making it just right. Because she’d been shocked he’d read her intentions so easily. Now it was ruined, the moment was over and he was already slowly backing up, his hands sliding from her.
He looked as if he wanted to say something, but then shook his head. “Good night, Daphne.” He opened the door.
“Wait!”
He sighed, not looking back at her. “I don’t think—”
“I need you to unzip my dress,” she blurted, hating that she had to ask him to do it, but seeing as how there was no one else around and she wasn’t about to sleep in this thing, she had no choice.
He faced her, his eyes narrowed. Suspicious. As if she’d just given him the worst kiss in the world and now wanted to lure him into bed by doing a striptease in front of him.
It wouldn’t have been a bad idea, either, if her thoughts weren’t racing, if she wasn’t so confused herself at the moment.
“You want me to what?” he asked.
“My dress.” She presented him with her back, in case he leaped out into the hall and ran to his own room before realizing she was in desperate need here. “Please.”
She held her breath. She could sense him deliberating. It was obvious all he wanted was to go to his room and pretend that moment between them had never happened. Finally, she felt him shift toward her. He grabbed the zipper and tugged it down. It wasn’t like in the movies, where the man pulled it down slowly, his fingers trailing against the woman’s skin, his gaze following the movement, watching each inch of exposed back.
Nope, it was pretty much over in two seconds. Down went the zipper and out the door went Oakes.
Holding the dress up in front, she turned. Her hands trembling, she locked the door then wiggled the dress past her hips and let it fall to the floor. Gave it a kick for good measure. All her hopes. All her dreams of their first kiss had been destroyed. She needed a few minutes to absorb the blow. To accept it, as she had so many other disappointments in life. She’d curl up in bed, do some serious soul searching and figure out a way to fix this. A way to mend this setback and get them moving on the right track again.
She may be down, but she wasn’t out. Not yet.
CHAPTER TEN
LUKE GRABBED HIS books and hurried out into the hall. It was packed with kids getting stuff from their lockers and hurrying to catch their bus or their ride home. They had early dismissal from school today to start Christmas break and everyone was amped up, excited to be going home early, ready for the two weeks off they’d get for the holiday.
It was so packed, he had a hard time finding Gracie, but luckily, he was a few inches taller than most of the kids. He rose onto his toes and looked left then right, spying her curly hair as she walked down the hall toward the cafeteria.
He made his way toward her. Would have called out her name but he doubted she’d hear him over everyone talking and laughing, the boys pushing and shoving, the girls with their high-pitched giggles. But he had to catch her before she left. Had to talk to her.
He’d been doing a lot of thinking lately, and while he wasn’t exactly sure how he felt about her—his feelings were still too confused in that area—he did know that he missed hanging out with her and that last night when they’d decorated cookies then later, had gone shopping, he’d been happy.
He wanted them to be friends again, for real.
But first they needed to spend more time together to get back to how they’d been. It was the perfect solution. They’d be friends, spend time together, and in the meantime he’d be able to figure out exactly how he felt about her.
Proud of his rational thinking, his problem solving, he caught up with her by the band-room doors. “Gracie,” he called, reaching out to touch her shoulder. She turned and his heart did one slow roll in his chest. His throat felt tight and funny so he cleared it. “Hey.”
“Hi, Luke.”
She looked so pretty, her hair down, a colorful scarf around her neck, for a moment, he forgot what he’d wanted to tell her. “Uh...are you working today?”
She frowned at him. “Yes,” she said slowly. Probably because she knew he already knew she was working. Fay kept a schedule in her office with everyone’s work hours listed. “From three until eight.”
“Yeah? Me, too.” He grinned. “Hey,” he continued, as if he’d just thought of it this moment, “why don’t I pick you up? There are so many people at the B and B,” he said quickly, in case she was thinking of a good reason why she shouldn’t accept his offer, “and the parking lot gets so full there’s hardly room for all the employees’ cars. Plus, we’re supposed to get a lot of snow today and into tonight and I know you’re not completely comfortable driving your dad’s truck or Molly’s minivan in bad weather.”
She’d told him that a few weeks back when they’d been leaving work and it had been snowing steadily. He didn’t think it made him a bad guy to use it against her, to get what he wanted.
“Umm...sure. Why not?” she said. “That’s really nice of you.” But she said it in a way that made him think she wasn’t quite convinced his only motivation was kindness and consideration.
“Great,” he said as they started walking again. “I’ll pick you up at two forty-five.” He glanced out the glass doors that faced the student parking lot. The vehicles were covered in snow and it was still falling. “Do you need a ride home?”
At that moment, Bryce walked up behind them and slung his arm around Gracie’s shoulder. Gave her a quick squeeze that was a cross between “we’re buddies” and “
I want to get into your pants.” “Ready?”
“Yes.” Instead of shrugging off Bryce’s arm, she smiled up at him.
Finally, Bryce seemed to notice Luke was there. He took his arm off of Gracie and let it fall to his side. “Hey, Sapko. How’s it going?”
“Good.” He knew he should say more, ask about Bryce’s plans for college or even the holiday break, knew he needed to be the nice guy and pretend that it didn’t bother him in the least that Bryce stood so close to Gracie, and that she didn’t seem to mind. He forced his brain to come up with something, anything, to say that wouldn’t make him seem like an idiot, standing there staring at the two of them. “Got any plans for break?”
Lame, yeah, but at least it was something.
“Not too much. I think we’re going to a Pens’ game next week if my dad can score tickets. Man, too bad you couldn’t have played for both the hockey team and the football team. The hockey team could’ve used you.”
Luke just smiled but it was forced. He’d played hockey most of his life, had even thought he’d make a career out of it until his sophomore year, when a new coach had taken over the high school program and had moved Luke from the first line to the fourth. He’d quit and started playing football instead, had been the starting quarterback the past two years. “They did pretty well considering the number of players they had.”
Because a lot of his friends had switched to football, too.
“We’d better get going,” Bryce said to Gracie, jingling his keys in his hand. “It’s really starting to come down. See ya, Luke.”
“Yeah. Later.”
Luke watched them walk across the parking lot. Bryce took Gracie’s bag from her, which Luke knew to be loaded with books, and laughed at something she said. Luke’s hands fisted. Someone bumped him.
“Sorry,” a freshman murmured and Luke realized he was standing in the way, staring at some girl like an idiot.
Shoving his fists into his pockets he turned, headed back toward his locker to drop off his stuff and get his jacket. He went up the back set of stairs, taking them two at a time. It was going to be all right, he assured himself. He had a plan. It wasn’t as if Gracie and Bryce were an item. They were just talking, going to a stupid dance together. He wasn’t breaking anyone up.
Not like his supposedly best friend had broken up him and Kennedy.
Luke turned the corner and groaned. As if just thinking about her had conjured her, Kennedy leaned with her back against his locker as she texted someone. His steps slowed. He felt the familiar reaction to her. What could he say? He was a guy, a teenaged guy who hadn’t had sex in months, and she was gorgeous. Long, silky red hair, big boobs and long legs. Her tight, dark jeans molded to her hips and ass and the green sweater rode a few inches up her waist, showing her flat stomach.
She must have sensed him approaching because she looked up and over, her eyes meeting his. A small, smug smile played on her face. That was Kennedy. Secure and confident in her looks. Knowing what she could get just by using those looks. The sad part was she didn’t have to use them. She was smart and could be really funny, but over the last few years she’d changed from the girl who used to make him laugh, had an easy smile and was nice to everyone, to a walking, talking clichéd mean girl who talked about people behind their backs and manipulated everyone around her.
Or maybe she’d always been that way and he’d been so into her that he’d ignored it. But when he’d walked in on her and Drew just after they’d had sex, he couldn’t ignore it any longer.
“Hi, Luke,” she said, her tone breathless though the only strenuous activity she’d been doing was typing on her phone. “Wow, can you believe all the snow we’re getting? My dad will be thrilled. You know we’re taking our annual ski trip during Christmas break and they’re supposed to have even more snow up in Vermont. Remember how much fun we had there last year?”
He nudged her aside so he could open his locker. That had been her MO ever since crying and begging him to take her back hadn’t worked. She’d begun reminding him of all the good times they’d had together, the trips they’d taken with each other’s families, the plans they’d made to go to the same college, their promise to make it work long-distance if they couldn’t go to school together.
All those plans, like his dreams of playing hockey professionally, were gone now. He was starting to think that it was a waste of time, planning and dreaming and setting goals. It was fine when it was just you, when the only person involved in making those dreams come true, in achieving those goals, was yourself and it was a solitary endeavor. But when you brought in other people, when you relied on them, when your dreams or goals depended on them doing their fair share or them realizing your potential, everything fell apart.
“What do you want, Kennedy?” he asked.
She frowned, but it didn’t make her any less beautiful. When they were together, he never would have talked to her like that, never would have used that impatient tone. He’d tried to make her happy, tried to keep her happy, but it had become increasingly difficult over the past year.
Now he couldn’t remember why he’d bothered trying.
“I just wanted to talk to you,” she said with a pout. “I miss you.”
Grabbing his coat and hat, he sighed. “We’ve been through this.”
He shut the locker, spun the lock. She should have thought about missing him, about not being with him before she’d hooked up with Drew. Her cheating on him was what had made it impossible for them to work things out after they’d tried getting back together. Luke couldn’t forget what she’d done.
Couldn’t forgive her.
“I know,” she said, hurrying to keep up with him as he walked down the hall. “It’s just...it’s Christmas. I was hoping maybe we could...try and be friends.”
He had enough friends, but telling her that wouldn’t get rid of her. She was always around anyway. They hung out with the same crowd, which included Drew. That made lunchtime interesting, seeing how they always sat so that there were several other buffer friends in between the three of them.
Maybe she was right. Maybe they should try to be friends, or at least, friendly. It would make life easier in a lot of ways, at parties and lunch—whenever they all hung out. If he let go of his anger toward her, she might stop acting so desperate to get back with him. There were plenty of guys who’d love to be her boyfriend. She needed to move on so he could move on.
He stopped at the doorway. Faced her. “Yeah. Maybe.”
Her eyes lit up. “Really? Oh, Luke, thank you. You won’t regret this. And now that we’re friends, we can go to the dance together.”
She said all of this with a satisfied smile on her beautiful face.
He shook his head. “I should have known you were up to something.”
“Wait. What do you mean?” she asked, catching up with him once more as they descended the stairs. She smiled and waved at one of her friends. “Luke, I’m not trying anything. I only meant that we could go to the dance with the group. Like we always do.”
Like they used to do, he wanted to amend, but what would be the point? She thought nothing had changed except that they were no longer a couple. She obviously didn’t want anything else to change. “Actually I hadn’t planned on going to the dance.”
“I know, that’s why I wanted to talk to you. I hate that you’re not going because I’ll be there—which is exactly why we should all go together. Half the boys are saying they won’t go since you’re not going, you know how it is. Half siding with you. A few siding with Drew. Come on, Luke. It’s our senior year. Do you really want the rest of it to be how it’s been so far?”
He didn’t. It hadn’t been all bad, but the tension amongst his friends wasn’t cool. And it wasn’t exactly how he’d wanted them to spend their last year together. He and Drew both tried to downplay it, the animosi
ty toward each other, and Drew had attempted to reconcile with Luke more than once, but Luke wasn’t ready to forgive and forget just yet.
Though maybe he should.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll go. With the group,” he added, in case she started thinking it was going to be the two of them, like a couple.
“Thank you, Luke! Thank you!” She looked as if she wanted to hug him, but he kept his arms at his sides, his expression clearly telling her not to even try it. “You won’t regret it.”
He thought of Gracie and Bryce walking side by side, of what it was going to be like, how hard it was going to be watching them slow dancing together.
“I already do,” he muttered and walked away.
* * *
OAKES SOMEHOW KNEW who it was knocking on his door before he even answered it. Maybe it was the three quick raps followed by three more, the rapid knocks full of energy and impatience. Maybe it was because he’d thought of Daphne pretty much nonstop since leaving her bedroom last night. Had dreamed about what he would have done if he’d given in to his impulse and kissed her again. If she’d responded instead of staring at him shell-shocked. How he could have unzipped her dress slowly, relishing the feel of her warm skin against his knuckles. How he could have peeled away that material, turned her slowly to face him...
Three more knocks followed, then she said, “I know you’re in there, Oakes. Don’t make me beg.”
With a sigh, he opened the door, found Daphne in a pair of jeans and a thick sweater, her coat hanging over her arm.
“I can’t imagine you begging,” he said.
His imagination immediately went to the image of her begging him—not to let her into the room, but to touch her, to move inside of her, harder. Faster.
Hell.
She grinned, looking so fresh and pretty, her cheeks pink. One part of him wanted to slam the door in her face. But the other part of him wanted to yank her inside and pull her against him. He settled for stepping back so she could come in.
“Well, to be honest, I probably wouldn’t have begged,” she told him. “I mean, that seems a bit excessive just to be let into a room. Anyway, you’d have to come out at some time. I could always just lie in wait for you.”
