“I … well, I hit that guy.” I covered the ugly, purple coloring. It turned my stomach, anyway, and made my hand hurt to look at it.
“What?” He looked over three times in a row, trying to watch the traffic and look at me. “So … wait.” He shook his head. “You didn’t report it?”
“No.”
“Because you hit him?”
“Just because. It just happened. He was dangerous, and rude, and in my face.” That was Marcus coming through loud and clear. You said you’d step out! “But it’s fine. Really.”
I just ruined my first official date with Nash. We were quiet for several minutes. Just when I thought about saying he could take me home if he wanted, he told me about the restaurant. I listened, but I also found myself comparing Nash to what I’d seen of Marcus. They seemed opposites of each other. Nash is so tall and serious … I guess I don’t imagine Marcus like that at all. He seems fit and athletic, and so … free.
Maybe because I don’t have a body?
Because you’re not afraid of crazy, scary things.
This is freaking freaky, but hey, what the hell, right? Guess we gotta roll with it.
Nash picked a nice restaurant with candles and antique-style wooden tables. After we were seated, he held his menu in his hands but looked up at me several times with a subtle smile.
Geek lust, huh?
You’re not doing a good job of stepping out for the evening.
Sorry, talking to myself, babe. I’ll try not to think.
Go snowboarding or something. Or sailing! Sail away!
“There’s no choice in the matter,” Nash said. “I have to try the lobster ravioli.”
“Oh, wow, that sounds delicious,” I said, which was true, plus I hadn’t read the menu. Instead, I gazed at it blankly while arguing with Marcus. I set it aside now and folded my hands in my lap. It’d been easier to talk to Nash in class … or maybe it was the Marcus thing. Whatever it was, I felt nervous and awkward, and didn’t know what to say.
“Thanks for emailing me notes, by the way. Mr. Finley did too, and Ettore. I realized I could just get notes from everyone and stay home all the time.” I stopped and waited for his laugh.
“Uhh …” He didn’t get it.
“Just kidding!”
Now he smiled. In the soft lighting, Nash’s eyes looked warmer than usual. Maybe it was his green shirt, but his irises looked greenish brown instead of just dark.
“Are you thinking about graduation?” I asked, just before I mentally kicked myself. “I mean, I know you are … I guess …” He was majoring in English and Journalism, with thoughts about going into the teaching program afterwards. Before, I’d been hoping he would stay around so I could still see him.
“It’s hard to believe I’m just credits away.” He shook his head. “I’m looking into job possibilities, where I’d want to live. I’ve had ideas all along, of course, but it does feel different to know I’m heading into the actual, tactical steps of doing this thing.”
Some people were thinking about graduation, a career, life after college … I kept thinking thoughts to Marcus.
“Where have you been looking?” I asked Nash. “Anything in Oregon?”
“A few.” Nash kept up a steady conversation as we ordered and then ate dinner. The lobster ravioli was rich but subtle, with a soft, lingering yumminess in my mouth. I glanced at the wine at another table, wishing for a glass to go with my dinner. Something about the taste called for it.
“So tell me something about you that I don’t know,” I said.
“I have a twin brother.” He paused at my raised eyebrows. “He’s studying law at California Southern Law School.”
“Identical?”
“Yes, I know it’s hard to believe there’s someone else out there as good looking as me.”
His sudden joke made me giggle. By the time we left, the awkwardness had ebbed away. He played me his favorite play list on the way back. I leaned over to wrap an arm over his and entwine our fingers.
“Want to come in for a bit?” I asked.
“Sure.” He got out and hurried around to my side—to open my door, I think—but I stepped out before he reached me. We paused, staring at each other for a couple of seconds too long, and I thought he wanted to say something. Instead he gave me a quick smile and we walked up the porch steps. Marcus must have stepped all of the way out—he hadn’t said a word about this.
Inside, Jasmine was watching TV with her friend Jenny, a small blonde with super-long, curly hair. I heard Kristina and Kyle in her room as we walked by going to my room, maybe talking …
I shut the door behind us and felt nervousness trickle back through me. Emotion swept me back to when I was dating Kyle.
Wanting to shake all that off, I turned the radio on softly and lit the two candles on the mantle. There had been a fireplace or something here a long time ago. Now it’s just a ledge for my pictures, candles and a few decorations. Nash flipped the overhead light off, and the candlelight filled the warm. I turned around to find Nash standing close.
“You’re different,” he said, “in a very good way. I like how you’re different from other people.”
I felt myself smile, a quick lift in my mouth, but I couldn’t find words to answer. He searched my face, his eyes going back and forth between mine, before he asked, “Are you sure you’re feeling all the way better?” Surprising me, he reached out and ran the back of his fingers down my face.
I tried to answer, opening my mouth, then shrugging.
His other hand came up to my face, and I closed my eyes as he gently caressed my cheeks, holding me. And suddenly I understood why he’d been asking me that. I reacted like there were two of me. Part of me felt eager and excited. The other part freaked out—it didn’t feel right being this close to Nash with Marcus here. I thought of the way the ocean crashes against the jetty on the coast, white water raging up, exploding with the full force of the Pacific propelling it.
Should I stop him like last time? I didn’t want to. I wanted to be held and kissed and cared for.
No!
My hands pushed against Nash. I gasped, surprised as him. He started to take a step back, color rising up his neck, most likely from anger.
“Nash, I’m sorry … I get a little freaked out.” Freak would be the right word. I’m a freak and sending mixed signals.
“Avery, I …”
Marcus surged inside my head, filling it, and I could see what he wanted to do: throw a fist into Nash’s nose. I mentally pushed back, stomped on him, shoved him aside. My brain. My body. My decision! Why are you acting like this?
“You’re a big contradiction, Avery,” Nash said. A second passed and I realized it was a compliment. Maybe he thought I was flirting with the hot and then cold treatment.
I stepped closer to Nash and reached for him. His lips touched mine, so soft … I don’t remember it feeling like that with Kyle. He barely moved his mouth. We just stood, mouths pressed together, for a minute.
Marcus made gagging noises and started yelling a song. I mentally screamed back, shouting at him to go away. There had to be somewhere he could go. Just when I couldn’t take it anymore—when I knew I’d have to stop this with Nash—it went silent in my head.
Silence is golden.
Nash’s hands moved first, one sliding into my hair at the base of my neck, cradling my head, pulling me just a little closer. Then his lips parted, his head tilted, and he really kissed me, touching my tongue.
Suddenly I realized I was dangling there like a rag doll, my hands at my side, and I reached up to lay my hands on his shoulders. I stepped closer so our bodies were touching. Was I shaking? I hoped it just felt like it from the inside.
Nash put his other arm around me, holding me, kissing me, filling my senses so I could only feel. A low moan started in his throat. His hand skimmed down my back, following the curve and then stopping on the top of my jeans. Maybe he was teasing me. Or maybe he was afraid of going farther, of
lowering his hand down. I found myself wanting him to, wanting him to touch me all over.
He pulled back a few inches, then pulled my face against his, breathing hard against me. Just a second later, he pulled me to the bed, lifting me up and laying me again, then nestling between my legs and kissing me again.
The contact—the position—sent hormones shooting through me. It happened so fast I wasn’t sure if I should stop it. This felt even more intimate than standing and kissing, even though we were both still fully clothed. And he wasn’t just kissing me; he was moving against me.
AVERY.
Marcus was back. His voice filled my head and his emotions filled the rest of me, swamping me.
“Nash.” I had to break my face free to speak. “Nash …”
“Hmm?” His mouth went to my neck, bringing wetness and warmth. His tongue ran circles all over my skin.
All of it felt so nice, but …
“I …” I what? I wanted him to stop?
His movement slowed and he rolled to his side, pulling me so we were facing. He kissed my hair and held me close, not speaking. All of it surprised me, that he was such a good kisser and that he knew what he was doing. He was certainly old enough to know what he was doing … it was just that he was so shy.
Even while Marcus fought for control, my body begged for more. Unfortunately, Nash felt my stiffness and stilled. He held me for so long that I thought we weren’t going to talk about it. Then he said, startling me, “Did I freak you out?”
My first instinct was to say no, of course not.
Or you could be truthful.
“I’m not freaked out,” I told Nash. “But … I don’t know how to explain it.”
“It’s okay.” He rubbed my back and pulled me so I was lying on his chest. It felt so nice to nestle into him, listen to his heart beating and feel his arms around me.
“It just reminded me of something.” Those words came out of my mouth but I hadn’t planned to say them. What was I talking about? Nash shifted under me, raising his head. “With Kyle,” I added. No, it wasn’t me talking. MARCUS, KNOCK IT OFF!
“What?”
“He was pushy. I guess he didn’t feel like waiting for me.” I could not believe Marcus just said that. With my mouth. To Nash.
Nash was silent for a minute.
What a huge mistake.
Then, “Wow … I’m so sorry. I halfway liked him, too. I mean, we’ve been talking. Hanging out.” He stopped, searching my face in the soft lighting. “That’s why? That’s what has been bothering you?”
Marcus didn’t answer him but now it was all out there. So I said, “I freeze up. I’m sorry.”
“No, no, don’t be sorry … Avery, I have to ask you, did he rape you?”
“No.” God, Marcus had gotten me in a shit hole here. “No, I told him no and he got mad. We didn’t speak to each other after that.” I couldn’t handle the eye contact and nestled up against him, feeling like rockets were exploding inside of me.
Nash squeezed me tight and held me like that for a long time. Angry tears threatened, but I mostly held them off. Just one made it out of the corner of my eye, and I don’t think he noticed.
I would kill Marcus over this.
Don’t you feel better?
You had no right! You were just being a selfish ass, doing that just to stop us—and you didn’t think about the consequences, did you? Nash still has to be around Kyle.
“Are you okay?” Nash whispered. “You’re shaking.”
“Yeah,” I whispered back, a little squeak that embarrassed me. “Are you? Maybe I shouldn’t have told you that.”
“Don’t be sorry.” He rubbed circles on my back and pressed a kiss into my hair. Closing my eyes, I exhaled, trying to relax. I wanted to scream at Marcus but couldn’t—how do you beat the shit out of someone inside your head? I worked on pushing him out and building a wall. There had to be a way to lock him out.
Nash and I lay tangled up together for a long time when he moved.
“I better get back to my place.” As he pulled away and stood up, I felt a chill. “I didn’t mean to stay so late. I mean, I’m glad I did. I’m glad we talked, too.”
He pulled on his jacket as I watched from the bed. Then I didn’t want to look too stunned about it, so I got up too. Was he leaving because I shared that—because Marcus shared that?
“Thanks for taking me out to dinner,” I said, afraid to ask.
We looked at each other in the flickering candle light. One of the candles had burned out and the other was going crazy. He took my hand and kissed it before we walked to the front door. The TV was on. Kyle and Kristina were curled up together, and she shifted to lean up and grin at me.
At the door, Nash turned and leaned down to kiss me on the mouth. He looked into my eyes for a second, then said quietly, “Thank you for telling me.” His gaze went past me, toward Kyle.
I watched Nash walk to his car before shutting the door.
I don’t like you kissing him.
Marcus growled the words, giving me goosebumps on my neck.
I don’t like you in my head!
Chapter Twelve
Marcus
Hell yes! She was mad as all get out, but we were out running in the dark and sprinkling rain. For the moment, I didn’t care that she wasn’t talking to me.
The cold night air whipped over us and through her hair. She hadn’t pulled it back. Avery had been so mad she yanked on a pair of running shorts, shoes, and took off running. I loved it.
So I kept quiet. No way would I ruin this by letting her know how much I enjoyed it. I’d been trying to help. Things weren’t going well with Nash. Now I fixed them.
“Yeah, right, Marcus. You don’t want Nash and I together—admit it!”
Fine, I don’t want any other guy touching you. Is that what you want to hear? I want to touch you. I want to dance with you and feel my hands all over you. I want us all tangled up together. I want to hear you whisper my name.
My words turned to pictures and sensations. I couldn’t help it. I could see her lying on a pillow, looking up at me, her hair fanned out and damp, her face flushed, her lips red and swollen from wanting me.
Avery ran faster.
Even in this in-between place, I could feel my entire body tighten. I wanted her. She knew it, too, and maybe she wanted me.
I’ve seen your dreams, babe. I’ve seen you imagining how it’d be with me. You’ve been trying to picture my face, what I’d look like if I could look into your eyes and whisper to you in French. You’ve been picturing a lot more than that.
I wasn’t doing either of us any favors. Damn. If we could touch each other … I couldn’t let myself think about it anymore. I wanted her too bad.
She ran a good five miles and returned to the house soaking wet, shivering, and numb to reality and the storm we were both feeling. I felt somewhat under control again. The run had cleared my head. The rest … well, I was learning to live in this state of deprived wanting.
She took a hot shower and I tried to back out of her mind. I made it to the far corner, where she seemed to think I’d left, but I could get a sense of what was going on. I needed her in a deep-down, painful way, like I might wither up without her touch. As she washed, I closed my eyes and pretended I was touching her. If she noticed, she didn’t scream at me this time.
By the time she’d pulled on a shirt to sleep in, she was physically and mentally exhausted, her mind spinning in circles. I pushed my way in, and she either didn’t care or couldn’t do anything about it. That made me hesitate, but I needed to get a few things down on paper. Too bad she only had lined paper, but that would have to do for now.
I grabbed her notebook and turned to a clean sheet. We’d both been picturing me. More and more images had been slipping through my mind from my life, and she was getting flashes of me when I talked to her. It might be enough to sketch out a likeness. Using the mental images, I made some rough drawings to look at, then tried to make
a composite that was more polished.
Then I got off on another idea and sketched out logos … but I wasn’t sure what they went to. I had some shapes and an idea of what the letters were supposed to look like, but not the actual words. These could be just doodles, or maybe I was a graphic artist. Maybe I was involved in a company. Why didn’t anything feel right?
I turned to a clean sheet and let myself go, sketching an image that came as I moved the pencil. It was a girl … the one I’d seen in flashes with blond hair, the sparkling blue eyes. She was a happy person, and someone important to me I think, but I really didn’t feel like she could be my girlfriend.
Avery had checked out like she was sleeping and given me control. This was a little weird. Suddenly I realized the possibilities … except she’d been so pissed. She’d really go off the deep end, wouldn’t she? I reached up and ran her hand though her hair. No reaction. I touched her face and traced a finger along her lips.
She really wasn’t here right now. It made sense. She hadn’t commented or reacted when I drew myself or that girl. An itch started somewhere low in my body and worked its way up until I felt ready to crawl out of my skin. I wanted to touch her all over, but it took all the fun out of it if she didn’t respond. Well, it’d take half the fun out of it.
I slapped the notebook down and paced. There wasn’t much room in here. So I gave up on that and did a hundred pushups. Dang. I was going to make her eat more protein.
Then, even though I didn’t feel great about it, I pawed through her things. She had some damn hot panties, little pink and red lacy things … which was kinda funny, since she didn’t seem to let guys see them. Not that I wanted any other male seeing her panties, or her in them.
Next I looked at the photo of her mom. They looked alike. There were a few other ones with a little Avery and her parents. Something was wrong or missing in all that, but I hadn’t been able to put all the pieces together yet. I just knew the parents were out of the picture, and she didn’t let herself think about her dad.
I looked at the photos for a few more minutes and then went back to drawing in the notebook.
All In My Head (First Tracks Book 1) Page 10
