Naked Edge

by Charli Webb

  And now it’s time to haul my sleep-deprived ass out of bed. The morning sun will crest my southeast windowsill any second now. Might as well get out of here before the heat gets unbearable. My bedroom, over the detached garage, is the largest by far, but it has its drawbacks. The main problem is no bathroom or running water. It’s not so bad in the summer. I have an Eldorado Springs hot and cold water dispenser and a mini-fridge. But the ten-yard dash from my room, down a full flight of narrow stairs and across the yard to the house is brutal in the winter. I grab my shaving kit, robe and a towel then head to the house.

  My stubborn, masochistic brain continues to dwell on Skylar as I shower. I crank the heat up, hoping the hot water will clear my head. It doesn’t. Two questions seem to be stuck on auto-repeat. Why did she disappear without a trace? And why did she come back?

  I’m not going to be able to let it go until I find out. I’m obsessive about puzzles. Derek buys Sudoku books and leaves them lying around all over the house. He’ll work on a puzzle until it gets hard then move on to the next one. He’s got entire books of partially solved puzzles. It drives me crazy. This thing with Skylar isn’t any more significant than that. It’s nothing more than an unsolved puzzle. I’ll get Boone to tell me her story. Once the mystery is solved, I can stop obsessing over it.

  I need someone to give me a ride back to The Dark Horse to get my car. It might as well be Boone. The sooner I learn why Skylar disappeared, the sooner I can move on.

  Derek bangs on the bathroom door. “Dude, hurry up. I’ve got class in less than an hour.”

  I wrap my towel around my hips and open the door.

  Derek fans the steam and glares at me. “If you used all the hot water, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

  “It’s Thursday. You’re supposed to shower at The Rec.”

  “I’m running late.”

  “Not my problem, buddy. And Wade’s next.” With four of us living in one tiny house, we have to manage our limited resources creatively.

  “I gave Wade ten bucks to trade with me, so get out of my way.” Derek grabs the door and tries to push past me.

  I stand my ground. “You still owe me for your share of the cable bill.”

  “Come on, Rowdy. I’m in a hurry. I’ll give you the money tonight.”

  I step into the narrow hall.

  Derek squeezes past me and slams the bathroom door.

  I should have gotten the money from him last night while his wallet was still full of cash. Most people consider tips part of their salary. Derek considers it ‘free’ money. He routinely blows through a night’s haul the next day, buying lattes for cute girls at The Laughing Goat. I don’t care what he does with his money, as long as he pays his bills.

  I go back to my room, yank open my top drawer and notice I’m down to three pairs of boxer briefs. Shit. Yesterday was my laundry day, but I’d been so blindsided by Skylar, I’d forgotten all about it. Now I’ll have to haul my shit down to the laundromat. I dig the pair of jeans I wore last night out of my hamper and the last clean t-shirt out of my drawer. It’s the one Derek gave me for Christmas last year. It’s so offensive, I never even tried it on, but it’s either scrounge something out of the dirty clothes or wear the shirt with Ralphie the bison humping Cam the ram emblazoned on the front.

  I enjoy sticking it to CSU as much as the next guy, but this shirt is downright crude. I can’t wear it out in public, much less to class.

  We have a strict ‘if it’s not yours don’t touch it’ rule in the house. I poke my head out of my bedroom window just in time to see Derek burst out the front door.

  “Hey, Derek, can I borrow a shirt?”

  “Sure.” He slams the door hard behind him. Derek doesn’t do anything gently. But he’s generous to a fault, which is why we all put up with him. He’d wait and give me a ride if I asked, but a detour to The Dark Horse would make him more than a little late. Missing one class during summer session is like missing two during a regular semester. The poor guy’s already struggling to keep up.

  Derek’s bedroom door only opens partway. I have to shove myself through the gap. “God, Derek. You are such a pig.”

  His closet and drawers are empty. Every article of clothing he owns is either on the floor, draped over his desk chair or… what the hell? I nearly gag at the sight of a used condom hanging over the edge of his trashcan. I back out of his room and yank the door shut. Damn. We’re all in charge of our own rooms, but if he causes us to lose our damage deposit, I won’t be the only one to kick his ass. Anna’s small but she’s wicked strong with a temper to match.

  I turn the vulgar shirt wrong side out and pull it on over my head then grab my phone to call Boone and give him a heads up.

  It goes straight to voice mail. Of course it does. What am I thinking? It’s only eight forty-five.

  I grab my backpack, jump on my mountain bike and head up the canyon. I’m ninety-nine percent certain that Skylar will be up. I don’t want to see her, but I don’t really have a choice. I’ll have to play nice so she’ll let me in to drag Boone’s lazy ass out of bed. Derek won’t be the only one late for class if I don’t get a ride.

  Chapter Three

  Skylar

  I don’t know what I’m expecting to find when I open the front door, but it certainly isn’t Rowdy Daletzki. My heart jumps into my throat. I swallow, trying to force the traitorous organ back into my chest where it belongs. “What are you doing here?”

  His pale blue eyes widen just a fraction as his lips part.

  I catch a glimpse of the old Rowdy and immediately regret hurting his feelings. But all sympathy disappears when he flashes me a panty-dropping, crooked grin. It’s obviously fake and so not him. He even presses an open palm over his chest.

  “Ouch.”

  “Don’t pretend to be offended. That’s the exact same thing you said to me last night.”

  He drops the wounded, bad boy act but the old Rowdy is already gone. The new, perpetually angry Rowdy grits his teeth. “I came to apologize.”

  “Apology accepted.” I stand on the threshold and grip the edge of the door so hard my fingers ache. It’s all I can do to keep from throwing my arms around his neck. I have to remember that the gorgeous man in front of me is not the same sweet boy I fell in love with so long ago. I refuse to believe Boone’s claim that Rowdy is broken beyond repair, but I can’t deny that he’s damaged. The old Rowdy would never hurt me on purpose. We missed you at their funeral.

  I’m not giving up on him, but I’m not going to let him walk all over me either. “You still haven’t answered my question. Do you need something?”

  I’m tempted to close the door in his face when he flashes me that sexy, crooked grin again. But then he rubs his forearms with his hands and I melt. He used to do that all the time when he was nervous. More proof that the old Rowdy is still in there, somewhere.

  “I need a ride to The Dark Horse to pick up my car.”

  Figures. “Let me guess. You let some cheap piece of ass drive you to her place then woke up all alone this morning with no car.”

  Rowdy’s smile slides off his face. “If it’s any of your business, I had a little too much to drink last night so a friend drove me home. I need someone to take me to my car so I can get to class.”

  “What happened to your vow to never use drugs or alcohol?” He’d made that promise to me the summer before my junior year of high school then asked me to do the same. He claimed that his stepdad had been a decent guy before he became a raging alcoholic. Rowdy didn’t want either of us to take a single step down that path. And I hadn’t. It pisses me off that he did.

  Rowdy’s face darkens under his tan. He’s more than a little scary, reminding me again that I don’t know him.

  He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath then opens them as he exhales. The anger is gone. A deep sadness is all that remains.

  I have no right to remind him of broken promises. I open the door and wave him inside. “Have a seat while I go get Boone’s
keys. I’ll give you a ride.”

  “Just go wake Boone’s lazy ass up.”

  “He can’t drive a stick with a broken ankle.”

  “Shit.” Rowdy steps back out onto the porch and jams his helmet on his head. “I’ll just ride my bike.”

  “What time does your class start?” What am I doing? I’m not usually so pathetic. If the old Rowdy hadn’t slipped past his crusty veneer, I might have been able to slam the door in his handsome face instead of begging him to let me give him a ride.

  He grimaces as he snaps the buckle under his chin. “My class starts in about an hour, but it’s at the Westminster Campus.”

  “You’ll never make it in time.” I notice his shirt’s on wrong side out. “Who dressed you this morning?”

  He blinks twice then drops his gaze to the center of his shirt. “Oh. That.”

  “Don’t you want to fix it?” I wouldn’t mind getting a peek at the muscles straining the exposed seams of his black t-shirt, but I don’t want him to know that. I turn my head and tuck a stray curl behind my ear, pretending the thought of him peeling his shirt off isn’t making me drool.

  “I neglected to do my laundry last night. This is my last clean shirt.”

  “That doesn’t explain why you’re wearing it wrong side out.”

  He smiles and I get another glimpse of the old Rowdy. Damn.

  “It’s clean as in not previously worn. The graphic on the front is pretty raunchy.”

  I squint and lean a little closer, trying to make out the design, and unintentionally get a whiff of pure Rowdy. Clean and untainted by artificial fragrances. My emotions are all over the place. This isn’t your normal roller-coaster mood swing. This is a tilt-a-whirl, bolted onto a roller coaster, strapped to a rocket mood swing. Memories slam into me, one after the other…kissing, touching—

  “Skylar?”

  My eyes snap open, six inches from his chest. Crap. I jerk my head back, horrified that he caught me sniffing him. “I…uh…can’t see the design. What is it?”

  The wide grin on his face tells me he knows exactly what I was doing. “Believe me, you don’t want to know.”

  What I really want is to die. Right here, right now. Just let the ground open up and swallow me whole.

  The corners of his almond-shaped eyes crinkle. He’s all but laughing out loud. “If you’re sure you don’t mind giving me a ride, I’d really appreciate it.”

  “No problem.” I turn and jog up the stairs, grateful for the excuse to flee. I knock on Boone’s bedroom door.

  “Go. Away.” Boone is not a morning person.

  “I need to borrow your car. Where’re your keys?”

  He groans for five long seconds before I hear him fumbling around with his crutches. He cracks his door and squints at me. “Why do you want to borrow my car?”

  “Rowdy left his at The Dark Horse last night. He needs a ride.”

  That wakes him up. “Rowdy’s here?”

  “Yeah. He forgot your car is a stick and came to bum a ride. I told him I’d do it. Is that okay?”

  Boone yawns then drops his keys into my open palm. “Be careful, Sky.”

  “I’m giving him a ride, not my heart.” Liar.

  ~***~

  Rowdy plugs his iPhone into Boone’s cassette adapter. He skips three songs before letting one play all the way through. I don’t recognize it or the next two. Apparently, Rowdy is now a devoted fan of heavy metal. One more change I’m not fond of. When I pull into The Dark Horse’s parking lot, he turns the volume down then twists sideways and leans against the car door. He crosses his arms over his chest and arches an eyebrow.

  I swallow and clear my throat. “I suppose you’d like to know why I disappeared.”

  “It has crossed my mind.”

  Rowdy’s deep, quiet voice does funny things to my stomach. I want to tell him everything, but it’s hard. So much harder than telling Boone. I guess I should start with an apology for disappearing without a word. “Boone said you went through a rough patch after I—”

  “A rough patch?” Rowdy’s voice slams into me.

  My shoulders jerk involuntarily. “I’m paraphrasing. Don’t be mad at Boone.”

  “What did he say?”

  Man, he’s scary. I keep my voice steady and calm. “All he said was that you were upset when I disappeared but that it wasn’t the only trauma you suffered that night.”

  “And?” Rowdy’s pupils dilate.

  “He said it wasn’t his story to tell.”

  “It’s not.” Rowdy explodes out of the car.

  I brace myself, expecting him to slam the door.

  But he doesn’t. He just stands in the parking lot, shoulders heaving with each breath. He finally slows down and sucks in a lungful of air, holding it forever before he exhales. He puts one hand on the roof of the car and shoves the other in his pocket. He sticks his head inside and says, “Thanks for the ride,” then gently shuts the door.

  “Rowdy, wait.” I try to follow him, but my door’s stuck. I jerk on the handle so hard it rocks the car, but it still refuses to open. Damn rusted out, piece of crap Jeep.

  He peels out of the parking lot without so much as a backward glance, dragging a huge chunk of my heart behind him.

  Chapter Four

  Rowdy

  I slow down to five miles over the speed limit when I merge onto Foothills Parkway. The last thing I need is a speeding ticket. I should have just taken the bus. I would have missed my first class but that would’ve been better than accepting a ride from Skylar.

  I need to blow off some steam before I explode. There’re only two things that help when I get like this—booze and sex.

  I should’ve let that tourist take me to her hotel room last night, but I just couldn’t get in the mood. Alcohol didn’t work its magic either.

  I got smashed after Skylar left, but it didn’t help. I was up all fucking night. A chill runs down my spine. What if Skylar’s return has somehow messed up the anesthetizing effect of sex and alcohol?

  I’m five minutes late for class, but it’s not like they’re going to start without me. I apologize to my students then take the focus off myself by announcing a pop quiz. I’d planned to give it to them next week, but Skylar hijacked my brain this morning. She’s all I can think about. I need to get my shit together. If I demonstrated CPR on the infant dummy right now, I’d probably crush it.

  I sleepwalk through the rest of my classes. I don’t like driving when I’m tired so I head to the combination bookstore coffee shop for a boost of caffeine.

  There’s a girl at the table across from mine, sneaking peeks at me every time she takes a sip of her latte. She catches me staring at her and folds her arms under her boobs, putting her cleavage on prominent display.

  I give her a crooked smile and raise my eyebrows. One quick flick up then back down, signaling my interest without being overly creepy.

  She licks her lips.

  Gotcha. I give a little nod towards the door then stand up and walk out. I don’t need to look back to see if she’s following me. I can feel her gaze on my ass.

  I lean against the wall and give her body a quick sweep from the top of her purple-streaked head to the hot pink tips of her toes. “What’s your major?”

  She smiles and gives me the once over as well. “General education. What’s yours?”

  “I’m an instructor. So if you have any interest in Emergency Medical Services, you’re off limits.”

  “I suck at math and science, so no chance of any medical careers in my future. And I won’t be a student here until fall semester.”

  That takes care of the last shred of decency telling me to leave this girl alone. I’m only subbing for the regular instructor while she’s on maternity leave. No conflict of interest here.

  “I know this is a dick thing to say, but I have a meeting I need to be at in a couple hours so if you want to hook up, we need to do it now.” She needs to know up front that I’m not a nice guy.

&
nbsp; Her smile flatlines for a moment but then she grabs my hand and says, “Oh, what the hell. You’re hot and I’m horny. Might as well just admit it and get to it.”

  Wow. I was not expecting that.

  She drags me off campus to her apartment. The cardboard boxes stacked haphazardly all over the place adds credibility to her claim that she isn’t a student yet. I wrap my fingers around her waist and pull her hips against mine, surreptitiously looking for stains on her sheets. I don’t see any so I turn my gaze to her face.

  Her eyelids flutter as she tilts her head up, signaling her desire to kiss me. I ignore it and grab her thighs.

  She wraps her legs around my waist.

  I carry her to the bed then fall with her onto the mattress.

  She rolls me onto my back then straddles me. Her hands dive under my shirt. I lift my shoulders so she can peel it off over my head.

  “Ohmigod.” Her sudden burst of laughter surprises me. “Where’d you get this?”

  She drapes my shirt across her chest, proudly displaying Ralfie and Cam in their obscene act of interspecies copulation.

  I roll my eyes. “My perverted housemate gave it to me. If you want one, I can give you his number.”

  She tosses the shirt onto the floor. “I’d rather have your number.”

  “I don’t do the relationship thing, okay? So if that’s what you’re looking for, we better stop right now.”

  “You really are a dick.” She skims her hand over the front of my jeans. “If you weren’t so hot, I’d kick you out on your ass.”

  “So, you’re okay with this?”

  “That depends.”

  “On what?” I’m suddenly, and inexplicably, not sure that I’m okay with this.

  She crosses her hands and grabs the hem of her shirt then lifts it off over her head. “On how fast and how hard you get me off.”

  “Do you do this a lot?”

  Her fingers freeze on the front clasp of her bra. “Are you asking if I’m a slut?”