Red: Fiery Finale (Spectrum Series Book 8)

by Allison White

  “She sounds like you,” I finish with a teasing smile.

  “Shut up,” she mumbles but smiles back.

  She’s wearing the same tiny gray shorts she wore to bed last night. Don’t get me wrong, she looks sexy as fuck…but being out here in the open makes me paranoid, and I stare a little too long. Bite my lip. But I manage to drag my eyes from her lap, and my gaze feels softer as they land on her soft smile.

  “Good—” she teases.

  “Happy Birthday, Red!” I exclaim and move closer to her lips, kissing them in one swift go. Her mouth is feather-like, teasing, pure, and I love the feeling of her soft lips, soft curves, soft everything on mine.

  She groans when I pull away for a pesky breath, and her forehead frowns. “I told you I don’t like my birthday.”

  “Too bad. I like your birthday, and you too…I guess.” I shrug playfully and smirk.

  Her nose wrinkles, and I laugh. I reach across her and pick up the tray. I face her in the chair and hold up the tray of food, thrust it in her direction with a giddy grin.

  “I made you breakfast,” I announce proudly.

  She laughs quietly, shaking her head, but sighs and takes the tray. “Thank you, Noah—this is very sweet of you, even though you do this almost every morning.” She chuckles again almost sadly…

  “Why are you sad?” I ask her straight up.

  “Because you sound excited, like you have something planned…” She draws out a breath, but I make no change in my worried facial expression. I don’t want to give anything away. Am I giving anything away? Shoot, is me thinking I’m giving something away actually giving it away on my face? This is one of those times I wish I could see my face in the moment.

  “Noah…” she gripes out in a warning and throws a cut-up strawberry into her mouth.

  “What? No!” I make a sound with my mouth, and her eyes narrow. “No!” I repeat and wave my hands, but then I rest my chin on my palms, elbows digging into my thighs. “But what is so wrong with being excited for my girlfriend’s birthday?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with it; I would just appreciate it if you treated today like any other day,” she says.

  “Pfft—no chance of that happening, babe,” I tell her. I want her to be happy, to be excited, especially for what I have planned. But what if she hates it because she detests this day? Or loves it so much and hates me for making her like the day she doesn’t want to even pay attention to?

  I groan. I’m going to give myself a freaking migraine if I keep thinking like this.

  “Why are you groan—” She exhales softly, and her head shakes. “Just promise me you won’t do anything grand or stupid.”

  “You’re calling my breakfast stupid now? Wow. I am shocked, Red Sylvetti…shocked.” I slap my chest a little too hard, and before I can hide my slight wince, she laughs, amused by my hurting myself. “You sadistic little…” I murmur and playfully let my mouth quiver.

  “No one told you to hit yourself.” She smirks and jams her fork into a piece of French toast. I’m surprised as she holds it out to my mouth. “Eat.”

  “It’s for you,” I tell her.

  “You made it; now eat.” The food touches my lips with a quirk of her mouth, and I hold her gaze as I wrap my mouth around the fork. I slowly drag my mouth down the cold utensil, never letting my gaze falter even for a second. Her throat moves, and she licks her lips and yanks the fork back.

  “You should be illegal,” she murmurs under her breath. She pops a blueberry in her mouth and chews, flitting shy eyes toward me. I’m leaning forward, reaching onto her lap. “What are you doing?” she asks breathlessly as my nose brushes against her flushed cheek. I adore how easy it is for her to blush because of me. Just one touch, glance, or word sends her cheeks into a raging fire of pink.

  I love it. Love her.

  “Open up,” I rasp. A sharp gasp from her, and I smirk. “Your turn.” I pick up a strawberry and gently prod it against her closed mouth. I prod and prod until she opens wide. I smile successfully as she sinks her teeth into the fruit, eyes studying me silently.

  “What did I do to deserve you?” Her voice is soft, inquisitive…guilty.

  I frown and shrug, pushing back an errant lock of hair behind her ear. “You were born on this glorious day, that’s all…” I wait for her to roll her eyes and push me away like she always does, but she doesn’t. She just keeps staring into my eyes with this emotion I can’t exactly identify.

  “If anyone can make this a glorious day, it’s you,” she says, and I grin.

  “You have no idea how that makes me feel, Red.” I lean forward, and our lips meet in a slow-roasting kiss. It’s tender and lasts for a few seconds, just lips and closed eyes. No pushing or biting or any of the things that make me feel consumed with overwhelming flames. This kiss makes me feel…it makes me feel present.

  And I never want to pull away.

  And we don’t.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  “Where are we going, Noah?” Red asks for the millionth time in the last hour.

  “I told you: my father wants me to check out land for a new building. He wants his name all over the freaking country. He’s a damn tyrant that needs to be stopped before he takes over the world!” I gasp dramatically, playing with her.

  “Screw you,” she grumbles, side-eyeing me. Hard.

  I flash a smirk. “In the car? Didn’t know you had it in you, Red.”

  “There won’t be anything in me if you don’t tell me where we’re going,” she threatens, and I seriously throw her a glance. Her arms are crossed, and her pierced brow is lifted high.

  “You’re serious…” I say.

  She nods. “As a heart attack.”

  I gasp and hold my chest, and she glares. “Bad joke, bad joke…”

  “Can you just tell me? I just got back from classes, and I want to take a long nap. Like, bear hibernation long,” she says, and I grin and blindly search for her hand. She grabs it but only fiddles with my thumb. She’s upset. But she won’t be for long.

  “I’m being serious. He wants to open up another building around here.” We’re close, very close. It’s suddenly hard to breathe.

  “Around here?” She sounds skeptical.

  “Yeah…what’s wrong with this location?”

  “It’s not exactly the snooty part of town,” she says.

  “So?” I shrug. “Nothing wrong with expanding.”

  “I guess…but why did you take me with you?” she asks, and I answer her as I slow the car down on the side of the road, letting cars zoom by.

  “Can’t a guy want his girlfriend’s company?” I cock an eyebrow and reach over, grabbing a black bandana from the dashboard. I lean back and try to play casual, twisting the ends of the fabric, but she’s staring at me with narrowed eyes. “What?” I laugh and try not to sound nervous, but I’ve never been a great liar.

  “It’s my birthday, we’re pulled over on the side of a road, and you’re holding a blindfold—what am I supposed to think?” she says in a painfully monotone voice. She doesn’t look very happy.

  I shrug, searching for appropriate words. “I’m going to kidnap you and whisk you away to Antarctica?” Nice going, Noah, really freaking appropriate. I groan, frustrated, as she stares at me with a dead-pan expression. “Please, just come with me?”

  “Wearing a blindfold?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  I pause. “To keep the land a secret?”

  “Why must it be a secret to me?” she asks, and I grapple for words.

  “I…just…fuck! Just please let me show you the land.” I am such a horrible liar and manipulator. I just want to show her this one thing. Even if she doesn’t like it, which I hope she does, I want to show her how great I can make this day for her, every year.

  Minutes pass by achingly slow, and I begin to push the car in drive and take us back home, defeated and foolish, when she blows out a hefty breath and nods.

  “Fin
e,” she says shortly.

  It’s enough to make me grin. “Awesome.” I fling open my door and jog around to her side. I open her door and bend down. She turns toward the driver side, and I hear her inhale sharply as I bring the cloth around her eyes. I fiddle with the backside before successfully trying it on her.

  “Now, take my hand, please.” I stand up, and she turns toward me, staring up at me with a mocking smile. I blush as I realize she can’t see me. I clear my throat, glad she can’t see me blushing, and take her outstretched hand. I help her out of the car, close the door, and click the car closed.

  I slowly bring her to the building. Crap. I can hear the cars from here as we’re making our way in with the help of thankfully quiet employees. I should have brought thick headphones. I would dig in my pockets for my phone and earbuds, but we’re already outside, so it doesn’t make much of a difference.

  We stop walking, and I look around. I did a fantastic fucking job. I would pat myself on the back if that wasn’t pathetic as hell.

  “Noah, where are we?” she asks loud enough so I can hear her.

  “See for yourself.” I stand behind her and work with untying the bandana. The second it’s off, I ball it up and stuff it in my pocket. “Open your eyes, you dope.” I chuckle and pat her back.

  She peels an eye open like she expected to be sucker punched, but once they both open and she takes a wide look around, she squeals and gasps at the same time. I’m afraid she’s choking. But she’s not choking. She’s flabbergasted.

  “You did not do this,” she mutters under her breath, walking down the stone steps.

  I walk down beside her, grinning. “Oh, but I did.”

  We’re standing in the place she’s been secretly gushing about to me for as long as I’ve known her. She doesn’t talk much about it, but she is secretly obsessed with cars. I’m pretty sure she has car magazines delivered but stopped them when she moved in with me. But she still watches the channel with awe and a giddy smile. Whenever I catch her, she either turns it down or just can’t help but be excited.

  We’re standing in a NASCAR stadium.

  Her eyes light up brighter than the sun, and a grin takes up most of the space on her face. “How did you get it so empty?” she asks in awe, and I take her hand and lead her to a set of closed-off stairs. It’s unlocked, and an employee opens it for us. We walk down and lean against the stone wall, watching a black car race around the other side of the track.

  “I have my ways…” I say ominously, and she eyes me harshly. I chuckle and squeeze her eyes. “You haven’t seen the best of it.” I stare long and hard at the car driving along the pavement then at the red one chasing it closely behind. They’re racing even though it’s just the two of them. It makes me smile even wider.

  “What more is there? I can watch this alone and be perfectly happy,” she says gleefully.

  “Then just you wait, Red Sylvetti…” The cars are still quite far away; it is a massive track…“Run,” I instruct and tug on her hand, but she doesn’t budge, too distracted by the racing cars. Okay, I stay behind and watch her. She looks like a little kid, a cute blonde-haired girl clutching her toy car to her chest.

  Oh, how does one breathe again?

  “What?” She snaps out of her trance. I want to thrust her back in just to stare at her doe-eyed smile, but I have to show her more.

  “Run! Or else you’ll be run over by your heroes!” I exclaim, and she furrows her brows but lets me pull her across the track. Our fast-paced breathing and shoes smacking against the asphalt are soon drowned out by throttling engines as the cars zoom behind us. We’re safely on the long patch of grass in the middle.

  “That was freaking awesome!” she screams and bounces on her heels like almost getting hit by cars—sorry, NASCAR cars—is her biggest dream ever.

  Laughing at my psychopathic girlfriend, I take her hand. “I know you don’t like fancy food like that—honestly, neither do I—so I got the next best thing.” I lead her over to a laid out red-and-white blanket and wicker picnic basket. We sit down, her on the back of her heels, me flat on my butt. I flick the lid open and pull out the large square box, offering it to her with a squinty smile as the sun damns me. “Pizza!”

  She makes a lusty sound and sits flat on her butt beside me and takes a big, cheesy slice. “I haven’t had pizza in forever.” Her teeth sink into the triangular slice, and her moan makes me feel fuzzy all over and extremely proud.

  “And to wash it down…” I take a dramatic pause, and she chuckles when ten seconds go by.

  “What is it?” she shouts and squeals when the cars race behind us. Her blonde hair ruffles up in the air, and I chuckle at her heart-warming, genuine excitement. I want this moment to last forever and ever. Damn it.

  “Sparkling champagne!” I announce and watch her smile, her silent smile. Damn! No fancy, Noah. She doesn’t like fancy. I blush and clear my throat, setting the big bottle next to me. “But I also have apple juice, pineapple soda, water, and—”

  Her lips colliding with mine silences me. I hold her shoulder, cup her face, pull her closer. Pull her onto my lap. I bite her lip, but she pecks me twice before nuzzles her nose with mine. I hold her waist and push away ruffling curls as the drives whizz past us, behind her.

  “This is perfect enough, Noah,” she assures me, and I take a big breath of relief. But she’s frowning. Oh no, what did I do wrong?

  “What’d I do wrong, baby?” I brush away the tear sliding down her cheek.

  “Nothing.” She grins.

  “What?” I’m confused.

  She swallows and leans back, arms wrapped around my neck. “I never had anyone go this far out for my birthday before, or any other day, to be honest.”

  “That’s because everyone is a fucking idiot; you should be worshipped,” I tell her, and she weeps loudly. What am I saying wrong? I should just shut up, but I can’t, not as she shakily swipes away her tears. “What’s wrong, Red? Tell me so I can fix it. Do you want more drivers? I’ll call them right now, every damn one of them.” I begin to fish out my phone, but she quickly shakes her head.

  “No, no—it’s not that. They’re enough.” She looks behind me with a faraway smile, then back at me, and that smile becomes a full-on grin. “It’s just…I don’t like my birthday because I never felt that special.”

  “But you are—” I begin to scold her, but she shuts me up by putting a finger over my mouth.

  “I never felt special…until I met you, Noah. I thought I was a piece of shit, unworthy of affection or forgiveness…” She pauses and winces like her words pain her to say them, but she opens her eyes and continues anyway. “But from the time I’ve known you, I haven’t felt anything but special, loved, and overall…complete. I know I sound like a walking cliché…but being with you makes me feel like I belong.”

  I pause this moment, pause her hair in the warm wind, pause her shaky smile, pause her hips under my hands—I pause it all and take a mental picture, store this in a special scrapbook labeled: Times Red Sylvetti Brought My Life Meaning. And then I hit resume and bring her lips to mine.

  “I love you, Red. Love you so damn much,” I tell her in a whisper-soft voice. It almost hurts me to say this, to give her my soul, heart, body—everything, it’s all hers.

  “I love you, Noah. And I always will. Always,” she whispers back and smiles against my mouth.

  I cup her the back of her neck and kiss her. I kiss her and kiss her, and I just kiss the woman I know is it for me. She is IT. The One, the only freaking one.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Red

  I got to drive one. I, Red Angelica Sylvetti, drove a NASCAR car…a freaking NASCAR car! I don’t even give a single shit if I sound like a giddy little boy whose childhood dream came true, because it actually did for me! Minus the part about my gender, I’m a normal girl who was—and still is—obsessed with everything cars. I like to believe I got my strange fascination from my father, but he died when I was a baby, so I
wouldn’t know.

  Nevertheless, I drove behind the wheel of one of the cars I drooled over. I remember bouncing around in one of my dad’s old college sweatshirts and pigtails, actual drool on my chin as I watched the colorful cars go round and round the track. I begged my mother repeatedly if we could go, but she had baby Harley and asshole Roger—my nasty step-father—to take care of. So I gingerly let my dream die and the racing channel burn on.

  If someone would have told me I would be driving a NASCAR car on my birthday, I would have punched them in the face. And I’m not kidding.

  Nothing good has ever happened to me.

  Not until Noah Wells came into my life.

  I am so utterly, eternally grateful for him, for how overwhelmingly happy he makes me, for how genuinely he loves me, for how he makes me feel like I’m a part of something big whenever he’s around. I want to kiss him to death and resurrect him so I can do it for an eternity. I want to love him forever. And I know I will from today, tomorrow, and the rest of my miserable freaking life.

  I think I’m being a creep, staring at him as we’re riding up the elevator to his—our—condo. My cheeks might fall off if I smile any bigger. We could be living in a shack and I would still be bouncing on the tip of my toes. Gosh. He makes me so freaking happy; this is insane.

  He glances at me, wrinkling his nose playfully. “Had one too many beers to drink, Red?”

  We just came back from a bar where our closest friends came out to celebrate my birthday with a few drinks. I normally wouldn’t have done it, but I wanted to, for him, for me—he’s making me like this day, but how can I not when he’s in my life doing shit like this for me? It makes my heart swell and head light.

  Or I had too many beers, but who cares?

  I shrug. “No such thing as too many beers,” I slur. Maybe there is a thing for too many shots…eh, who cares? Poison is poison.

  The elevator slows to a stop, and the doors slide open.

  He chuckles and takes my hand, leading us out. “There is such a thing if you can barely walk.” He slides his key in the hole and jars open the door.