See Through Me (Lose My Senses)
Page 6
He shook his head with a fake laugh and wiped the blood off his face with his shirt. Devon helped Trevor to his feet, his blond hair tarnished under the artificial glow of the street lamps. He grabbed her ass and she squealed in delight. Were they together? They both went to the same college. Please tell me they’re not together. Oh, crap. Judging by the face-sucking kiss Trevor gave her, they were together. That was going to make things awkward. Oh, hey. Did you know your creeper boyfriend made a grab for me? But it’s cool, I stabbed him with my illegal keychain and knocked him on his ass. Want to go get some coffee?
Ash watched me with guarded eyes. A light over a doorway flickered, throwing harsh shadows across his face. I took another step away. The anger on his face transformed into something else, his mouth compressing into a determined line. He continued to glance over at the small crowd. I followed the direction of his gaze. Down the alley, Devon grinned and waved at us.
“You found him!” she shouted, cupping her hands around her mouth. “There’s Ash!”
She made it sound like I was the one looking for him, not the other way around. Thanks. I waved back weakly.
Then, Ash strode over and pressed me up against the wall. Trapped by his unyielding body, I squeaked out a gasp and clutched at his broad shoulders. My hair snagged on the bricks but a thrill of expectation flew up my spine. He bent his head down and roughly kissed me. His tongue darted between my lips, the stubble on his chin abrading my skin.
All thoughts of pushing him away fled as heat pooled low in my pelvis. He always could turn me on with one simple kiss. I raised myself up on my toes and kissed him back, drowning in the remembered taste of him. He wrapped a hand around the nape of my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair.
Devon whooped from down the alley, and the group around her laughed, the sound of it bouncing off the sides of the buildings. Ash pulled away suddenly. Breathlessly, I stared up at him and wondered what the hell I was doing. I’d been so resolved to keep my distance. Keeping my distance meant maintaining safe boundaries. No touching, and definitely no kissing. Even if he kissed me first.
“Have fun, you crazy kids!” Devon yelled, shocking me out of my madness. The group moved down the other end of the alley, their voices fading along with their footsteps.
A ribbon of anger surged to life. He just had to put on a show for her and all the others watching. Last year we’d been careful to hide our relationship. Now that it no longer existed, he wanted to flaunt it. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“And you shouldn’t have lied to my face.” He scowled, his face thunderous. “If we’re keeping score.”
“I didn’t lie. Trevor didn’t get a chance to touch me.” I touched my swollen lips. “I’d already taken care of it by the time you showed up.”
“I wasn’t talking about Trevor.” He braced a hand next to my head on the wall.
A breeze rose up and my hair fluttered into my face, covering my eyes. I brushed the strands away while Ash reached toward me to do the very same thing. He quickly lowered his arm to his side. My whole body pulsed in disappointment, and it struck me how this was a split-second snapshot of our story.
I attempted to walk away, but he braced his other hand on the wall, caging me within his arms. I forced myself to look him in the eye. Really look at him, and let him look at me. I owed him that much. His gaze stayed on my eyes, daring me to hold the connection.
To my surprise, he’d changed. Ash had always been handsome, but his face had taken on an edge, losing some of the softness of youth. Only his eyes were the same, starbursts of green and gold fringed with black lashes. But the shape of his jaw was stronger, his cheekbones sharper.
I bit the inside of my cheek. His nose wasn’t blade-straight anymore. There was a slight tilt and bump, as if it had been broken. And there was a small pink scar over one of his eyebrows. Possessiveness overtook my thoughts. I wanted to know what had happened, who hurt him and where I could find them so I could tear them apart myself. I gave myself a mental shake. He wasn’t mine to be possessive about. Or maybe I meant obsessive.
“We need to talk,” he demanded. “You made me think you left for Michigan when you took off.”
“You know how I am.” I tilted my head to hide the fact that I was still lying to his face. “I just decided at the last minute, and didn’t think.”
“Bullshit.” He leaned close to my face. The cool night air around us thickened as his breath tickled my cheek. “Changed your phone number and deleted all your email accounts at the last minute, too?”
Regret gnawed relentlessly through to my heart. I couldn’t do this with him tonight. Or ever. I ducked under his arm and started walking toward my truck.
He stuck close to my side as I walked.
“Is that all you have to say?” he asked in a carefully controlled tone.
“Yep.” I yawned. The remaining adrenaline from my encounter with Trevor was draining away, and the events of the day crashed down upon me. Fatigue set into my limbs with every step.
My foot caught on a loose rock, and I stumbled into Ash—again. He caught me around the waist. All my good intentions to avoid touching him, and here I was, failing miserably in the attempt.
He murmured, “I’ve got you.”
If only that were true. Now my brain was betraying me. Focus, I told myself sternly. Tonight, just go home and go to bed. Find a way to save the house on Monday, confront my father about his own lies in a week, and finally go to college in the fall. Maybe create world peace and write a bestselling novel, if I have the time. But don’t think about how Ash’s touch was thawing all the ice I’d put around my heart and soul. Don’t think about how his scent twined around all my memories. Don’t think about him at all.
Easier said than done. His arm didn’t leave my waist, even though I was walking fine on my own. I sidestepped away from him as I covered the last few feet to my truck, and took my keys out of my pocket. He didn’t reach for me a second time.
He nodded to my truck. “I can’t believe you’re still driving that thing.”
Hey, now. Covered in dings, dents, and rust, the old blue pickup truck was my baby. I loved the rust bucket. Who needed power steering and working air conditioning when you can go to the Grand Canyon and back?
“Don’t start talking about her like that, or she’ll start crying tears of antifreeze.” The jingling of the keys in my hand betrayed my nerves. “This has been fun and all, but I have to go. We should catch up later. It’ll be like old times…”
Ash’s face darkened. I couldn’t believe I’d used that particular phrase. Why was I being so deliberately cruel? Probably to remind myself, more than anything. I had lost whatever self-control I ever possessed around him, and needed to get away before I made this any more uncomfortable.
“I don’t want the old times back.” He raked his hand through his shaggy hair. He’d grown it out. “I want something entirely different.”
I yanked open the door of my truck. “We don’t always get what we want, do we?”
Before I could climb in, he stepped behind me. Almost close enough for me to lean back and tuck my head under his chin, let his arms envelop me. My heart sped up, the fine hairs at my neck quivered at his nearness, and everything inside of me screamed to fall back into him. Instead, I stood there, frozen like a statue, until he snatched the keys out of my hand. He jumped away, dangling the keys in the air as I whirled around.
“What the hell, Ash!” I lunged toward him. “Give those back right now.”
“No,” he replied smoothly. “You’re white as a ghost, and can barely walk in a straight line. I’m driving. Get in, brat.”
It was the stupid little term of endearment that stopped all my protests. I missed him, more than he’d ever know. Giving up a little autonomy seemed like a fair trade to spend a few more moments with him. It was just a ride home. Ash was simply being a good friend in making sure I arrived safe and sound.
Too worn out to challenge my own lame ration
alizations, I climbed in and scooted across the bench seat. The rips in the vinyl scratched at the backs of my bare thighs. He followed me and settled in behind the wheel. Raucous music blared from the stereo when he started the engine. With a flick of my hand, I turned it down.
“Really?” he asked, raising a perfectly sardonic brow.
I shrugged. “Music only exists to be turned up loud.”
He pushed the eject button and held up the CD. “Five Finger Death Punch? When did you start listening to heavy metal?”
“I liked the name. It sounded vicious and violent.”
He smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You don’t have a vicious or violent bone in your body.”
No, just deceitful ones. I hid behind my own smirk. “You should ask Trevor what he thinks about that.”
Another yawn broke through. I sat up and stretched, inadvertently pushing my breasts forward. I caught a flash of desire on his face. My cheeks warmed with a guilty blush, but it didn’t stop me from extending my legs and propping them up on the dashboard. His gaze ran down their tanned length. This was how it had started before, an elaborate game of watching and waiting for the right moment. I looked away to the open passenger window, ashamed of playing a game I shouldn’t have begun in the first place.
Then again, turnabout was fair play. He started it with that kiss. I stole glances as he drove, fascinated by the way his muscles flexed through his thin t-shirt as he turned the wheel. The way his bicep strained as he shifted gears, especially when he forgot that first gear had burned out long ago, and he had to wrench hard on the gearshift. It was hard to tell in the dim light of the cab, but his body seemed more defined than when I last saw him. It had certainly felt more defined during our brief embraces. My fingers tingled, wanting to explore. Bad fingers. Don’t go there. That’s how we got in trouble last time.
“What happened to your iPod?” he suddenly said, interrupting my stealth ogling.
“I gave it to a homeless man.” Had he noticed me checking him out, and that’s why he asked a random question?
He shot me a look of surprise. Right. The iPod he gave me for my eighteenth birthday, fully loaded with my favorite music. And I just announced I got rid of it like an unwanted cat.
My ears burned as I rushed to explain. “He was trying to steal it out of my bag, so I just gave it to him, and some food. He probably needed the money he could get for it more than I did.”
He stared at me while we were stopped at the light. “You caught a guy stealing your stuff, and didn’t call the cops? Instead, you gave him food?”
When he said it like that, it did sound more than a little naive. I squirmed in my seat. “You had to be there. It made sense at the time.”
His full lips curled into a sneer. “Famous last words.”
I had actually been heartbroken over the iPod, but the guy had been twice my size and tweaked out, making him dangerous in his desperation. Giving it up in return for my physical safety had won out. And I could tell he was starving. I had to give him the food. No one deserved to go hungry when they didn’t have to.
I closed my eyes and rested my head against the side of the cab, letting the wind wash over my face. A tense silence cloaked the rest of the ride home. I didn’t open my eyes until he pulled into my driveway.
He hopped out of my truck and walked to my front door. That wasn’t part of our unspoken plan. I scrambled after him and caught up on the front steps. I’d expected him to hand over the keys, say goodnight, and simply walk off. End of our tragic story.
“Thanks for the ride.” I grabbed for my keys in his hand. “I’ll see you later.”
He dismissed me with a cool glance, and unlocked my door. “Nope,” he said, putting the keys, my own personal set of keys that I needed, in the pocket of his faded jeans.
My jaw dropped. I recovered enough to call after him, shock strangling my words. “What are you doing?”
That didn’t get a response, either. He opened the door wordlessly, and went inside to the living room. After a moment of gaping, I followed him. The glow from the light in the kitchen spilled into the room, making it seem even shabbier than before. Ash stood in the middle of the living, looking over the place with a sober expression on his face, almost as if he was weighing how his memories compared to reality. Without warning, he threw himself on the couch. A cloud of dust flew up into the air.
I sneezed. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“You should go to bed.” He tucked his hands behind his head and spoke to the ceiling. “I’ll be fine right here for the night, and then we can talk in the morning.”
What? He wasn’t serious. He couldn’t spend the night. We weren’t in high school anymore. We weren’t best friends anymore, we weren’t anything. I’d made sure of that when I broke his heart and ran away.
“This isn’t a good idea. Go home and sleep in your own bed,” I said.
“It’s not like I can go next door, in case you haven’t noticed. I haven’t talked to my parents since I left for school. I don’t even know where they moved to, and don’t really fucking care.” The corners of his mouth lifted into a small smile as he continued to stare up, not looking in my direction. “I have an apartment in Cleveland for the summer. Did you know I have an internship at a gallery downtown? Of course you don’t, since you refuse to talk to me.”
Relief released another band across my chest. He’d truly gotten away from them like he’d planned. But it didn’t mean he could sleep here. It didn’t miraculously fix everything between us.
“Then go to your apartment,” I said desperately. “You can’t stay here tonight.”
He raised himself up, leaning on an elbow. “I’ll leave if you tell me one thing.”
“Fine.” I covered up my new tattoo with my hand. Please don’t ask what I think you’re going to ask. “What is it?”
His eyes gleamed golden in the low light. “Why didn’t you show up in L.A. like you promised? Since you didn’t go to Michigan, which you lied to me about, you could’ve come out at any time.”
He did ask. Shame ripped through my chest to grab me by the throat. My chin trembled, but I took a breath to steady myself. “My plans didn’t work out the way I wanted them to.”
“Liar.” There was no anger in his voice, though. Simply resignation, as if he expected nothing less from me. “Just go to bed. You’re exhausted.”
He lay back down and closed his eyes, effectively ending the conversation. I considered forcing the issue and making him leave, which would involve arguing. Possibly screaming. My stomach turned over at the idea. I already loathed the tension between us. I couldn’t escalate it.
And if I was honest, having him here was the only thing that felt right in this house, like the universe was re-ordering itself to the way it should be. It scared the hell out of me.
I went to my bedroom. My nose wrinkled as I clicked on the light. It was the first room I’d cleaned earlier, but the musty smell of neglect lingered in the air. The room still seemed so small and foreign, from the yellowed lace curtains framing the window to the rickety bamboo nightstand next to my bed.
I stripped off my work clothes, and changed into some running shorts and a tank top from my backpack. I pushed the curtains aside to open the window. On the windowsill sat a small bunch of puffy white dandelions, neatly tied together with a storm-cloud gray ribbon. The stalks were crisp, the seeds attached to the heads in perfect spheres.
Ash must have left these here before he found me downtown. I wrapped my fingers around my wrist. He hadn’t seen my tattoo yet. He was telling me he hadn’t forgotten about last summer. I’d tried to convince myself he would have by now—among other lies. It had never quite worked. Denial could only accomplish so much.
I opened the window and blew all the seeds off from each dandelion. They disappeared instantly into the inky darkness of the night sky.
Chapter Eight
When I was eighteen years old, I fell in love with a boy. Little
did I know, he was just waiting for me to catch up…
From the top of the long flight of concrete stairs, I scanned over the beach spread out below me. I trailed my fingers over the metal railing, moving to the side for the crowd of people leaving. In the distance, the skyline of downtown Cleveland stood in all its hazy glory.
Ash had texted to meet him here while I was out on a run. I could see why. Dark clouds rushed toward the shore, and a roll of thunder sent tremors through the air. He knew how much I loved to watch storms with him.
Through the crowds of people, I spotted him near a lifeguard station, watching the sky over the lake. He was shirtless and wearing frayed cargo shorts slung low on his narrow hips. My breath hitched in my chest, the way it always did when I saw him. It didn’t matter if I’d seen him an hour before, it always happened. I tried not to think about the reason.
A group of long-limbed girls in tiny bikinis stopped in their tracks as they passed by Ash, giggling and checking him out. That’s what usually happened at the beach.
He’d changed over the last couple of years. Physically, like he’d finally grown comfortable in his skin. But more than that, he had started interacting with other people than me. Hung out with some of the guys from the soccer team. Went out with girls. Pretty, perfect ones that always knew what to say and what to do. I’d been certain he would move on from me. But he hadn’t. Not yet, at least.
Other people had no problem cheerfully informing me how he’d slept his way through our graduating class. And two neighboring schools. I scraped my teeth over my bottom lip. It was like he’d discovered sex in the last year, and needed to make up for lost time.
Sweat trickled between my shoulder blades. I skipped down the concrete steps. Strands of hair stuck to my neck from the high humidity of the day. I fought off feelings of insecurity over my grungy outfit, a white ribbed tank and blue running shorts that had seen better days.
I didn’t know why I was worrying so much about how I looked. I was just going to see my best friend at the beach. He didn’t care how I dressed. Why would he? We were just friends. Always just friends. As I made my way across the sand to him, I noticed that the girls were still standing and staring.