“Catch up with me, pretty girl, I haven't seen you in forever,” he suggested.
“But I wanted to see if Emma was -”
“We'll bring back beers!” he called over his shoulder before he disappeared into the house.
Emma stayed in her spot for a while longer. A guy at the other end of the deck was giving her the eye, his gaze sliding up and down her long legs. She returned his look with a wide-eyed stare until he got uncomfortable and turned away.
Stupid. She could've drooped her eye lids, bitten her lip, and he'd be at her side. She hadn't gotten laid in a long time, the dry spell was starting to get to her. Random cute guy at a party would've done nicely for her needs.
Would've been hell on her esteem, though.
Greatness. Go seek out your greatness.
She stood up and walked down the yard so she could be with one of the only boys at the party who hadn't looked at her.
She wasn't sure if he'd heard her approach or not, but before she reached him, Church climbed to his feet. When she got to him, she didn't face him. They stood side-by-side and stared out at the water, her cigarette smoke curling up between them.
“Can you swim?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. He didn't say anything, of course. She finally glanced up at him and his eyes were trained on the moon's reflection in the lake.
“Good. Sounds like a plan,” she sighed, then she flicked her cigarette to the ground and started unbuttoning her shirt.
When her shorts hit her ankles, he finally turned his head and looked at her. She stepped away from the material and turned to face him while she adjusted her ponytail, making sure it was tight. His eyes almost seemed to glow in the dark and she could see as they took in every inch of her body. She pulled off her boots and tossed them aside.
“Just so you know,” she warned him as she started walking backwards to the water, “if anything happens, I'm DNR.”
With that said, she turned and rushed into the lake. It was freezing, of course, and no one looked graceful fighting against the pull of water. As soon as it was past her knees, she took the plunge.
Sweet jesus, it was cold. It stole the breath right out of her lungs. She loved it. She broke the surface and wanted to scream from it. Wanted to shout. But she didn't want anyone to join them and ruin whatever moment she was hoping might happen. So she turned around and looked back at Church, her grin big.
“It's much colder than it looks,” she called out to him. “Better get in before everyone else realizes what a good idea this is and joins us.”
He just stood there, his arms loosely crossed in front of his chest, a beer bottle dangling from his fingertips. He was definitely staring at her, though, and not at some point behind her. So she kept her smile big and stared at him for a second longer, then she turned and pulled further away from the shore.
When she couldn't feel the ground under her feet anymore, she stopped and looked around. On the far side of the lake she could see what appeared to be a small farm with its own boat house. There were different kinds of trees lining the rest of the lake, though she could see the twinkle of house lights through the branches.
It's so peaceful out here. If I just slipped under the surface, everything would stay cold and twinkly forever.
She pushed the thought away and spun around.
“Hey, do you want to -” she started to call, but she stopped when she realized Church was no longer standing on the shore.
Had he actually left her? It wasn't unfathomable. Just because he was silent didn't mean his buttons weren't being pushed. She struggled to keep her head above water and her eyes searched the shore line. Then she heard a noise and jerked her head to the left.
A weeping willow was a couple yards away from the dock, and so close to the shoreline its branches were touching the water, creating its own kind of shrouded lagoon. Church was just outside of it, only wearing a pair of boxer briefs as he did his slow methodical stride into the lake. There was nothing ungraceful about his entrance and she would've been embarrassed remembering her own, but she was too busy staring at his fucking amazing body to think about it.
She shivered and stared and fought to keep herself up as he simply kept walking. When the water was above his chest, he must've finally lost purchase on the ground, and that's when he started doing a sort of lazy breaststroke, easily keeping his head above water.
“I knew you'd love it,” she said when he finally reached her. He didn't say anything, just got close enough that his legs brushed against her as they both tread water. “I like the cold. The last place I lived was humid. I liked that, too.”
She sunk further down, so she leaned her head back, letting the water cover her ears and block out the sounds of the party. The moon shined above her and she stared at it until water covered her eyes, too. She wasn't shocked to find herself sinking; she was shocked, however, when she felt a hand roughly grab her arm and jerk her back to the surface.
She sucked in air and looked at Church. She was in for another surprise – he looked annoyed.
“I asked if you could swim,” she reminded him. “I never said I was good at it.”
Her arms were tired, she wasn't used to the motions required to keep her afloat. So were her legs. It would be so easy to just give up and sink. She kept her eyes trained on Church's.
He was looking at her with a hint of wariness lurking behind his blank stare. He hadn't let go of her arm, his grip so tight it was starting to hurt. He used it to reel her in close to him. She didn't dare make a sound, just met him stare for stare as his arms wrapped around her and their legs tangled together. Her own arms eventually went around his shoulders and suddenly he was her own personal buoy. A living life vest, the only thing keeping her afloat.
“You're very beautiful,” she told him through chattering teeth. His eyes moved to look at her lips. Then he sighed and she felt his hands slide up her back.
“You're not.”
Church had a way of speaking without say anything, and saying things without actually speaking. For whatever reason, no matter which he chose to do, Emma understood him perfectly. She smiled at his statement.
“You don't scare me. I see you, Church Logan,” she whispered. His eyes fell shut, then his head fell forward until their foreheads were touching.
“You're going to break me,” he whispered back.
“LET'S GO SKINNY DIPPING!”
A voice roared across the calm lake and they both whipped their heads to the side. A hoard of drunk twenty-somethings were running into the water and jumping off the small dock. Some were wearing their underwear, like Church and Emma. Some were fully clothed, and still others were completely naked. All were being loud and disruptive and crazy.
Church's face stayed completely impassive, but his body was a different story. She could feel the muscles in his shoulders tense up. Wheezed as his arms locked up tight around her body.
“I think this officially stopped being fun,” she sighed. “I wonder if my clothes are still up there.”
He abruptly let her go and started swimming back towards the willow tree, moving in a long, graceful crawl stroke. She dog paddled after him as fast as she could, but by the time she dipped under the branches, he was already out of the water. She got her feet under her and took halting steps in the same direction, having to duck her head till she was clear of the low hanging branches.
“Well, this is convenient for you,” she chuckled as she took in his pile of clothing, sitting neatly folded at the base of the tree. Her clothes were out by the dock. She'd have to go through the crowd of drunk idiots to reach them.
Church was standing in front of his clothes, his back to her as he ran his hands through his hair, shaking out the water. He kept it so neatly styled during the days, it was easy to forget it was actually quite thick and unruly. She moved so she was right behind him.
“You don't have to give me rides anymore,” she told him, clutching her hands together and pressing them against her c
hest, trying to keep in any tiny bit of body heat. “You don't have to do things like this – come to parties, go in the water – just because I goad you into them. I know you're fine. You don't have to prove anything to me.”
He swung around to face her, looking at her in that annoying way of his – head barely tilted, eyes looking down the length of his nose. Like he was observing something under a microscope. Something boring and slightly disgusting and altogether not worth his time.
Gets me every time.
She raised up on her toes and kissed him. Didn't touch him anywhere else but his mouth.
The story about him beating up a kid had been true, so it was reasonable to believe the other rumor about him, the one where he'd fucked the chick from her math class. So Emma didn't feel bad about stealing a kiss. She knew other people would find it strange. Weird. Like she was taking advantage of him, maybe. Stacey would gasp. Josh would frown. Her mother would freak the fuck out.
She didn't care. She was taking this moment, anyway. Fuck everyone else. She would have her little bit of greatness.
His hand was gripping her arm, again. Hurting her, again. She gasped and he leaned into the kiss, his tongue diving into her mouth. His other hand got tangled up in the wet hair at the base of her skull and pulled, hard enough to make her wince.
More. I want more of this. I want all of this.
“Em? Emma? Are you in there?” Stacey's voice suddenly floated through the lust-induced fog in her brain.
Church let her go and she actually stumbled backwards. When she got her bearings again, he had his back to her and was sorting through his clothing. She watched him for a moment, trying to figure out what the fuck had just happened, then she turned and marched out from the cover of the tree.
“Here,” she said when she was back on the grass. “I'm over here.”
Stacey and Josh were maybe ten feet away, watching all the crazy people have fun. Stacey was looking a little wistful, like she wanted to join. Josh was looking a little drunk, like he wanted to watch her join.
“You went in?” Stacey laughed, looking over Emma's matching beige underwear set.
“I was the first one in, I'd like it noted,” she informed them.
“I'm sorry I missed that,” John sighed. He managed to stay on his feet for a second longer, then he fell heavily onto his butt.
“Oh, boo, I miss all the fun,” Stacey said.
“Who says? You know all these people, get in there,” Emma urged while she searched around for her clothes. She finally found them and started wiggling into them.
“Yeah, but I ... I don't know,” Stacey was waffling. Emma rolled her eyes and put on her shirt, but didn't bother buttoning it up. She hated games like this – if she wanted to do something, she did it. She didn't need encouragement or approval from everyone around her, she just did it.
“Well, I do know – you want to go in, you've got a great body, you've got a billion friends, so you're going in,” she stated, walking around to Stacey's back.
“Oh my gosh, what are you doing? I don't know, maybe I shouldn't -”
One swift yank and the zipper down the back of Stacey's dress was completely undone. The material slid off her shoulders and pooled on the ground. She was wearing a strapless bra and a lacy thong. Her body turned about thirty different shades of red, and from the ground, Josh belched up at them. “Hot.”
“You should, so just go out there and get it done.”
And with that, Emma all but shoved her half naked friend into the water.
From there, someone else took over. Some guy, one of the rugby players, laughed and grabbed Stacey's hand. She was yanked off balance and fell face first into the water. When she came up she was smiling, though, so Emma didn't worry.
Now to find my guy so he can yank me into deep water with him.
She got her shorts on and finally buttoned up her shirt, but she couldn't find her shoes anywhere. She had a sneaking suspicion Josh was sleeping on them. She didn't want to wake him up, nor did she think she could. She took her wet hair down from its ponytail and shook it out while she watched him snore.
A twig snapped from somewhere behind her. She turned to see a fully dressed Church emerging from the tree. Gone was any hint of the passion he'd displayed just a couple moments before; his gaze was back to staring into the middle distance. She chuckled and pulled her cigarettes and lighter out of her back pocket. After she had one lit up, she walked over. Got within a hairsbreadth away and stared up at him while her smoke tangled around them both.
“I'm know you now, Church,” she whispered. “You can't hide from me.”
He didn't look at her. Didn't acknowledge her existence one little bit. She smiled big and closed any remaining gap between them, pressing her chest to his, her hips to him, and she shoved her hand down his pants pocket. That got his attention and he finally shifted his gaze to her her.
“Don't worry,” she breathed, then she yanked his keys free of his pants. “I'll drive.”
They walked back to his car together. Without her shoes, she was acutely aware of how much taller than her he was – with her height, it was a rare occurrence. She skipped the last couple feet to the vehicle, then unlocked the doors and dropped into the driver's seat.
Church was more reserved with how he took his seat, but he did reach over and pluck the burning cigarette out of her mouth. It went sailing out his open window.
She turned on the engine and peeled out of the spot, whipping a tight u-turn to get them pointed towards home. She drove fast and hard, but it could've been a sedate crawl for all Church seemed to notice.
“You can talk to me now,” she informed him. “Use actual spoken words. Your tongue has been in my mouth, so I know it works.”
She wasn't quite sure, but she almost thought he smiled at that one. The corner of his lip twitched.
“I think you like listening to me talk. Is it because no one ever talks to you? Or because everyone else just talks shit?”
The twitch dropped and she nodded her head.
“I can't imagine trying to hold a conversation with Jerry,” she sighed, raking her fingers through her heavy hair, trying to move it over her shoulder. “He means well and all, but he's basically the human form of two-percent milk. And don't even ask about what conversations with my mother are like.”
They were silent the rest of the way home. She liked to think they were both content. The party had been a bust, but the night had been a win.
Maybe she was too confident in her abilities to read him. Emma had a tendency to think she had all the answers. A rough past and a jaded present, how could she not? So she didn't stop and think before she started talking again.
“What made you stop speaking?” she asked as she pulled into their driveway. Church went stiff again, but she didn't notice as she put on the parking brake. “Did someone hurt you? Did someone touch you? Or did you do the touching?”
He was out of the car and halfway up to the house before she'd even blinked. She gaped after him for a second, then scurried out of her own seat. She stepped on a sharp rock and almost went down. Cursing to herself, she hopped the rest of the way to the door.
Church was standing there, refusing to look at her. Refusing, she could actually feel his refusal. She had his keys, though, so he was locked out.
“I'm sorry,” she breathed, struggling with the keys, looking for the right one. “My brain has a mind of its own, you know? Or is missing it. Or I fried it. I don't know. It's none of my business, whatever happened. I don't actually care. I was just ... talking.”
She got the door opened and he barreled right past her, almost knocking her down. She dropped the keys on the floor, then glared at his back as he headed towards the hallway. She quickly shut the door and hurried after him.
“Okay, don't be a little sensitive shit just because I said something you don't like,” she snarled as she caught up with him. “I'm not exactly fluent in silence, but I'm pretty damn close, so I feel like I s
hould get points just for that.”
Nothing. God, she was angry. They'd had a good night, she was sure of it. And her stupid mouth and his pitiful attitude were going to ruin it? It wasn't fair. She was being punished for not understanding him, for not knowing how to talk to him. He had to give her a learning curve, a chance to understand him better. A chance to not make mistakes.
Before he could reach his room, she grabbed his arm and yanked him around, forcing him up against the wall between their bedroom doors.
“Knock it off,” she snapped. “You're what – twenty-three? Twenty-four? Fucking pouting like a goddamn child. Giving everyone the silent treatment. Got everyone in awe of you. Worshiping you. No wonder they call you Church. Well, I don't buy into any of this, so cut the bullshit and -”
She would've shrieked next, if she'd been able to – Church's hand around her throat effectively cut off any sound. Their positions were reversed and he slammed her back against the wall. She stared up at him, her eyes wide, her mouth gaping open. His free hand was braced against the wall above her, allowing him to lean down and press his mouth to the side of her head.
“I chose to stop speaking because there was never anyone worth talking to,” he growled at her. “And I don't speak now because it would be dangerous if I did. And they call me Church because yes, I should be worshiped.”
It was the most words she'd ever heard him string together, and he'd said them with the cut of his teeth behind them. He was forcing her up onto her toes, she was having trouble standing. She gripped onto his wrist to help keep her balance, but she didn't fight him. Couldn't even if she'd wanted to, because she'd already lost. She gasped for air and turned into his bite.
“I want to worship you,” she breathed against his mouth.
They were kissing again like they had at the lake, but nothing like at the lake. His hand was still on her throat. Her hands were all over his body. His tongue traced along the roof of her mouth and she moaned, pushing her hips off the wall, rubbing herself against him. She lifted a leg, trying to pull him in tight against her.
Church. Page 5
