by Piper Shelly
His brows furrowed, his lips pursed. “Come again?”
Jeez, did he not realize that he was still holding my leg, and how very uncomfortable—and excited—it made me? “Someone was getting me sweet soda all evening.” My voice shook slightly. “I didn’t realize it was the wine cooler you meant when you said—”
“—not to touch the strawberries,” he finished for me, closing his eyes. “Damn, I told her not to punch it too much.”
What? The wine cooler? I was pretty sure I had a tad too much of that stuff.
A frown creased Ryan’s brows as he looked at me again. “Sorry, I don’t remember much of the night after I carried you up here. Am I in trouble?”
Considering I still had my clothes on, nothing had happened during the night. “As far as I remember you were pretty drunk yourself. So I was quite safe from you.”
A smirk played around one corner of his mouth. “I’m afraid my time of numb indifference is over.” His thumb had started drawing small circles on my skin. “So, unless you’re up for some trouble now, would you mind moving your leg?”
My eyes widened at his seductive threat.
“What? You know you’re not the ugliest girl in the world.”
Wow, what a compliment. Idiot. I needed to get out of here. Back to…back to… Damn, Ryan had a nice smile.
I shoved that thought away and let go of his hand, then pushed his leg down so I could remove mine from his groin. I was out of his bed faster than the transatlantic. But the aftermath of drinking hit me harder than I had expected. The floor rushed to me or I did, I couldn’t tell which.
His hands cupped my elbows, and he steadied me before I was going to fall. He waited until my gaze locked with his. “Feel better?”
“Not really.” I tried to find my shoes. They lay at the end of the bed, and I wiggled out of his hold to put them on.
Ryan ignored his trainers and shirt, which lay tossed on the floor. Barefoot, he padded from the room. I followed him down the stairs, gazing at his back. What was it with naked skin all of a sudden that let me forget the world around me?
“Hey, Ry,” someone called from the hall to which we descended.
“Morning, Chris,” Hunter replied to the boy lying sprawled on the sofa. He walked on as if it was the most natural thing for him to come down from his room with a random girl after a partying night.
It might be the usual for him, but it sure as hell wasn’t for me. I felt my face turn a deep red when the heat shot to my cheeks. God, I should have jumped out of his window instead of being subject to this embarrassment. I hated giving anyone the wrong ideas. And there were quite a few leftover guests from last night.
The front door called to me, promising freedom. But Hunter had different ideas and pulled me into the kitchen. When he released my hand, I stood rigid in the middle of the room with the marble floor, while he headed for the fridge. He grabbed two bottles of water, unscrewed them, and dropped a tablet in both which he’d fetched from a cupboard. The tablet was still dissolving as he handed me one and then leaned against the counter, legs crossed at the ankles, drinking from the other.
I didn’t dare take a sip.
“Why so skeptic, Matthews? It will help your headache.”
After this innocent looking berry drink that landed me in this situation…yeah, I was. But since he drank the same stuff, I figured I was safe. Reluctantly, I sniffed the water then sipped.
“You don’t trust me?” He chuckled and drank some more.
“How could I? I woke up with a hangover from a soda and with an equally drunk person sleeping next to me half of the night.”
“Yeah, sorry about that.” He gave me a sheepish grin. “I don’t usually get drunk at my own parties. And believe me I’m going to get a piece of Claudia for messing with the wine cooler.”
I really started to loath that word. And the drink even more so.
“Look, as long as you keep hydrated today, you’ll be fine.”
I winced, not believing him one second. “It feels like someone installed a construction site in my head.”
“Oh yeah, I know the feeling. If you give me a minute to shower, I’ll drive you home.”
“No!” Ah hell, panicky shouting wasn’t a good idea. I grimaced, pressing my temples until the throbbing eased. “No thanks,” I tried again in a calmer tone, just wanting out of this house. “I’ll be happy to take the walk and sober up before meeting my parents. My mom will freak out.”
“Suit yourself.” He walked me to the front door. “Want my sunglasses?”
“Why would I want your sunglasses?” The moment I pulled open the door I knew why. Like a vampire, I flinched back into the shade.
And right into his firm chest. Which was still naked. And damn enticing.
He reached around, holding out his shades to me which he had fetched from where I didn’t know. The scent of pure Hunter enveloped me. For a millisecond, the screaming in my aching head stopped, and I was about to faint for a different reason.
“I know you so want it.” I could hear the mocking smile in his voice when he said it into my ear. I swallowed hard, only then realizing he meant his sunglasses.
Putting on the shades, I pushed away from him and trudged outside, down the steps.
“Matthews,” Ryan called after me, and I turned. “We’ll start your training tomorrow morning. Be up and ready at five. I’ll pick you up.”
My jaw hit my chest as he said it and shut the door.
CHAPTER
6
BY HALF PAST ten, I slipped through the door of our house. Mom stood in the threshold to the kitchen, with her cell phone in her hand. She looked up, and a relieved smile curved her lips. “Hi, sweetie. Why didn’t you take your phone with you? I was just about to call Tony to check if everything was okay.”
Praise the Lord for the many nights I crashed at Tony’s in the past ten years. Mom was so used to it, she would never expect anything bad when I didn’t come home after being out with him. I resisted the urge to cross myself and forced a smile.
“How was the party?” she asked in her innocent, motherly way.
“Good.”
“When was it over?”
“Little after three?”
Great, sound anymore guilty, and she’ll tie you to the kitchen chair and start a nasty inquisition. Luckily, her frown eased after a second, and she asked me if I wanted anything to eat. Ham and eggs, my favorite breakfast.
The churning of my stomach rebelled like the worst traitor through the room. Please, no food. I couldn’t help but gag and wrinkle my face. “No thanks, Mom.”
“What’s it? Don’t you feel well?” She was in front of me before I could escape to the stairs.
I pulled off Hunter’s shades and pinched the spot between my eyes. “Nah, all’s fine.”
“What’s with your eyes, honey?”
Shit. I quickly hooded my eyes and stared at the floor.
Too late. She gasped. “They’re totally red. Liza Isadora Matthews—”
Oh great, the full name. This was going downward.
“Have you been drinking alcohol?”
In contrast to her roar, my voice dropped to a mumble. “Only a little bit. And I didn’t know there was alcohol in the soda, I swear.”
From there she pulled off the full parental orchestra of scolding. She shouted, she grunted, she called me irresponsible for drinking. But the worst thing, she grounded me.
The only time where I would see daylight was soccer training Tuesday and Thursday, and she only gave in to that because I begged on my knees. After all, I couldn’t not show up for the first week of training when it had been so hard to get onto the team.
Then she brought me a glass of water, hugged me, and said she was happy I didn’t get hurt. Duh, she didn’t know about my hammering head yet.
Back in my room, I slumped on my bed and made plans for a week trapped inside. At least my to-be-read stack would shrink drastically this way.
Late
r that day, my phone vibrated on the night stand, with Tony’s name flashing on the display. I pushed the button to cut him off. Just letting it ring wouldn’t have been enough. He needed to know that I didn’t want to talk to him.
A few moments later, I got a text message. ARE YOU MAD AT ME?
Jerk, I wouldn’t answer to that.
It didn’t take long for him to send the next text. SO IT’S NOT A QUESTION OF IF BUT OF HOW MUCH.
I clamped down on my teeth, scowling sinisterly at the phone since he wasn’t here to receive the evil glare himself.
I WOKE UP IN A STRANGE HOUSE, IN A STRANGER’S BED, WITH A STRANGER SLEEPING NEXT TO ME. WHAT DO YOU THINK? I texted back, then picked up my book, and read three more lines before my cell beeped again.
WHAT DID HUNTER DO TO YOU? I’M GOING TO KILL HIM!
HE DID NOTHING. HE WAS A PERFECT GENTLEMAN. OTHER THAN YOU, IDIOT!
No text came after that. But soon my phone rang again. This time I picked up. “What?”
“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t care. You forgot me at the party.”
He sighed before he replied. “I didn’t forget you. It was the middle of the night, and I figured the way you were—”
“Drunk?”
“—yes. I thought it wasn’t a good idea to take you home. And your mom finding out. You seemed in a good place in Hunter’s room. He promised you’d be awake already when he would go to sleep.”
“What time did you leave?”
“One. Why?”
Okay, so he couldn’t know what happened. “Someone threw up in the hall. The party was over at three.”
“Shit.” He paused. “So will you come and hang out on the beach with a few of us?”
“I can’t. I’m grounded all week. Will Cloey be with you all?”
“Um…yes.”
Terrific! Tears of frustration welled up in my eyes.
“You only met her yesterday. I don’t see how you can hate her so much.”
“You know what I think about bimbos.”
“Look, she’s not a bimbo,” he tried in what should be a soothing tone. “And I think you two will get along well once you know each other better.”
“No thanks. I’d rather stay grounded for the rest of the summer.”
“Agh, Liz. Just when have you become so complicated?”
Me—complicated? “Know what? I wish you a nice day at the beach. Now, if you don’t mind, I have a book to read.” I didn’t wait for him to say bye, or anything for that matter, but pushed the disconnect button and tossed the cell into the laundry basket across the room. Screw him and the Barbie Clone. Screw them all.
As the first tears came out, I wanted to rip my room apart with the anger I felt. But I was going to spend a lot more time than usual in here the coming week and I didn’t want to live in a mess. So I took it out on my diary. In the evening I watched some TV then went to bed early.
It was still dark when someone shouting my name in a subdued voice woke me. Since there were not many people who called me Matthews, I jerked upright in my bed, my heart banging in my throat. I rushed to the window and found Hunter standing in our yard, dressed in shorts and a black tee.
“Hi,” he said and smiled when he saw me. “You don’t look like you’re ready to go.”
I fought to find my voice but kept it low, leaning far out of the window. “How did you know this was my window?”
“I didn’t. It was trial and error.”
Gag. “How many windows have you tried?”
“Yours.”
Okay. Oh—kay. I needed to calm down. The captain of the soccer team waited below my window, and I stood here in my tank top and boy shorts. Duh, it was five in the morning.
“Are you coming?”
“I can’t. I’m grounded.”
A sly smile played on his lips. “For sleeping with me?”
“For not sleeping in my own bed,” I whispered back, fighting to bite down the grin he teased from me.
“How long are you grounded?”
“Until Sunday. But I can come to the training.”
“At least there’s that.” He scratched his chin, looking around my garden, especially scanning the shed and tree next to my window. “What time do you usually get up in the morning?”
What kind of question was that? “I don’t know. Eight, nine, sometimes later.”
“So we have at least three hours until someone will expect you downstairs.” The left corner of his mouth tilted up, and he flicked his head, motioning for me to move. “Come out.”
“What?”
“Get dressed and climb to the roof of the shed. I’ll help you down.”
A hesitant laugh broke from my throat. “You’re crazy.”
“You are a coward.”
“I’m not!”
“Prove it.”
That cut me silent.
Tony had used the tree and shed to get into my room since we were nine years old. But with a key to the front door, I had never felt the need to do the same.
“So?” Ryan prompted me.
“Fine. Give me a minute.” He was insane, and I was even crazier to agree to his stupid idea. But heck, what did I have to lose? Apart from another week of freedom for a reckless escape from my room.
I traded my jammies for shorts, a white tank top, and trainers, then wound my hair back to a high ponytail. Hunter was leaning against the trunk of the maple tree when I returned to the window. He straightened when he saw me.
A little shaky at first, I hoisted one leg over the window sill and then clutched the frame as I let myself down to the roof of the shed.
“Good.” Ryan’s low voice already sounded nearer than before. “Now hang on to that branch, and I’ll get you down.”
Huh? “I’ll break my neck if I fall.” Goddammit, I should have stayed in my room.
“I won’t let you fall. Promise.” He lifted his arms toward me as if intending to catch me.
Breathing deep, I grabbed the nearest branch then stepped off the wood board roof, suppressing a frightened moan. My feet dangled in front of his face. He stepped closer and ran his hands up my thighs until he had a good grip right beneath my bottom. I swallowed hard and wondered if he had the slightest idea how that made me feel…
“I have you. Let go.”
“What?” I cried out, digging my fingers harder into the wood.
He laughed, and I found I quite liked that sound. It felt soothing, somehow. “Let go of the branch, Matthews. Now.”
“Ungh.” It took all my courage to uncurl my fingers and let him support my weight. As soon as I let go, I clutched his shoulders, and he eased the grip of my legs to wrap his arms around me and let me slide down flush to his body. When my feet touched firm ground, I looked up at his face.
He didn’t immediately release me but let a smile tug on his lips. “Hi.”
CHAPTER
7
THE BEGUILING SCENT of Hunter enveloped me, just like his arms. Tony had hugged me on countless occasions. But this was different. It screamed in comparison to the placid emotions I experienced when my best friend hugged me. This was mind-blasting, blood-boiling exciting. A thrill went through me. I stepped out of his embrace.
“Can we go?” he asked, making no effort to hide his amusement at my obvious discomfort.
“Where to?”
“The beach.”
That was about one and a half miles away. Was he kidding? I’d probably drop dead half-way. But I wasn’t a whiner—I hoped. I nodded, and we started off on a slow pace for which I was grateful. In the morning, the street was unnaturally silent. I couldn’t remember when I had last been out this time of the day. Five was way too early to do sports. Seriously. The normally bright facades of the houses lining our street all appeared in a monotone bluish-gray now.
“So your parents got angry because you didn’t get home last night?” he said with perfectly even breathing after the first quarter mile.
Did he really
expect me to jog and talk? My breathing was erratic, but I managed to say, “No. My parents thought I crashed at Tony’s. Which is fine with them.”
“You do that often?”
“You sound like you disapprove.”
He only cut me a sharp sideways glance. Heck, what was that? Did he really care?
“So why the grounding?” he asked as we passed a crossroads and neared the ocean. The sound of waves crushing on the beach drifted to us, breaking the silence of the morning.
“My mom saw my red eyes and figured I’d been drinking. Crap—” I panted. Sweat trailed down my neck, my back, and between my breasts. “I forgot your sunglasses.”
“No worries. You can give me them tomorrow before training.”
How did he do this? Run so far and still speak to me like he was lounging on the sofa. Gasping for air, I only nodded. The beach came into sight, and relief filled me. A few more meters I told myself and pushed harder. Then my feet hit sand.
And I collapsed.
Dropping to the beach like a sack of flour, I rolled onto my back and gazed at the soft pink sky.
Ryan stood over me. “What are you doing?”
“Dying.”
“No, you’re not. Get up, we’re not done.”
“I am.” My breaths sounded like those of a rasping woman on her deathbed. “But don’t mind me. You just go on. I’m sure in a few hours someone will come and scrape me off the pavement…dig me out of the sand…whatever.”
Amazing how the sound of his laughter made me wish for the strength to stand up and continue running just to be near him again. Luck was on my side today. A moment later, he lowered to the sand, too.
Hunkered by my feet, he…untied my shoe?
“Hey, what the heck—!” I pulled my leg away. “You don’t steal from a dying person.”
He lifted his palms in defense. “Fine, then take them off yourself.”
“What? Why?” Shocked and a little curious, I propped on my elbows and watched as he untied his laces. Hope filled me. “We’re going to take a swim now to cool off after the training?”
“Nope. The little run was only warm-up. The training begins here.”
