Eddies from earlier turned into a churn, and I diverted to the guest room. If I couldn’t answer that question without gut-wrenching nerves, then I didn’t need to be asking it yet. Ian was the one who said he needed a minute to get himself under control. And it wasn’t like I’d been pushing him away.
Stripping off the backpack, I set it on the guest bed. Then walked into the guest bathroom to check my face. My lips were swollen, and there was a little redness around my mouth and cheek—from his stubble. The fact I could see it gave me another little thrill. The hickeys I had courtesy of Jake and Coop were still there, faded—save for the one Jake added to Sunday night.
Fortunately, he’d kept it lower so I could hide it under my clothes. It was going to be very visible in a suit though. So would the ones on my thighs. Nerves practically vibrated in my stomach, and I pulled my hair down and ran my fingers through it.
Maybe it had been a bad idea to bring my suit. I’d worn it Saturday but hadn’t really gotten to show it off. The day had gone so epically sideways. The sound of Ian’s heavier tread on the stairs reached me, and I rolled my eyes at myself.
Friends, first. We’d all been friends first. Stripping, I changed into the bikini I’d picked up for myself and ran a comb through my hair before leaving my clothes folded neatly to put back on. Then snagging my backpack, I opened the door and found Ian standing just outside his bedroom door, arms folded.
He hadn’t changed yet.
His eyes flared as our gazes locked. “Wow…” Licking his lips, he lingered on my suit for a minute before blowing out a breath. “Really wow.”
“I got this last spring, I just… never wore it.” The look on his face made me wonder why I’d always been so reticent about bikinis. At the same time, I was happy I’d gone with it, even as my nerves decided to put on a fresh appearance. It was like being in a tug of war with a spring-loaded yo-yo. My emotions were all over the place.
“I like it.” He straightened. “And that answers that question.”
“What question?”
“Whether you wanted to just hang out in my room or go swimming…”
Did he mean? “If you want…”
“No, I mean—I do want. But I think swimming is better. Then homework, then music. Sound good?”
My stomach let out a gurgle, and Ian burst out laughing.
My face was probably the color of a cherry tomato. My gut was not known for its ladylike behavior.
“And food,” he promised. “Give me a sec.”
He was already pulling his shirt off as he walked into his room. When he didn’t close the door, it was like every cell in my body yearned to follow him in there. Shaking my head, I made myself turn to go down the stairs. Just because he hadn’t closed the door, didn’t mean he’d left it open for me to ogle him.
I got to do that enough by the pool. The fact I had sex on the brain wasn’t lost on me. Downstairs, I got us sodas from the fridge. There was a note on the counter from Ian’s mom with some cash. It said to order pizza and have a good night—they would be late getting back.
Date night.
That was right. His parents had a date night once a week. Sometimes his mom worked evening shifts, but they’d been heading out on a date last week. I left the note and cash where it was and took the sodas outside with my backpack. The umbrella was already opened over the table, so I set out my stuff.
Cheryl had messaged me about dress shopping again, and I groaned.
Me: Not sure. I have to work tomorrow and Thursday. Maybe Monday next week—maybe. If you have to go without me, it’s okay.
Cheryl: Girl, you gotta do the whole experience and trying on all the dresses together is part of that. When do you work this weekend?
Me: 10 to 6 Sat and Sun. Always 10 to 6.
Cheryl: Ugh. Fine. Saturday evening. Mitch will just have to do without me. You and I, Rockdale Mall, seven. Want me to pick you up?
I made a face.
Me: Can I think about it?
Cheryl: Absolutely not. You need a great dress, and the key is to have the right wingwoman. Lucky for you, I’m amazing and I know you’ll tell me if something makes me look like a creampuff.
I couldn’t help it, I laughed.
Me: I swear, I won’t let you look like a creampuff.
Cheryl: Thank you! So am I getting you girl or you meeting me?
Me: I’ll meet you. Where at Rockdale?
Cheryl: Big fountain entrance next to Maggie’s.
Maggie’s was a really nice boutique and catastrophically out of my price range. But she did say we were going to be looking.
Me: Deal. I’ll be there.
The door to the house opened, and Ian stepped outside in his trunks. The taper of his waist and the very clear lines where his abdomen descended into his Adonis belt had my mouth watering.
“You’re smiling,” he said.
“Yeah—Cheryl wants me to go dress shopping with her, and she’s hijacking my Saturday night.”
“What color are you getting?” He set his backpack on the table and reached for the Coke.
“I don’t know… do you have a preference since it’s your Homecoming date, too?”
“Whatever you wanna wear. I don’t think there’s a color that looks bad on you.” The ease of that compliment had my toes curling. “Just make sure you tell me so I can match you.”
“I promise,” I told him, then took a drink.
“Swim?” He curled his hand in invitation.
“You just want to make out in the pool again,” I teased him.
“I didn’t hear you complaining,” he retorted as we linked our fingers together.
“And you won’t—” I might have spoken too soon because he tugged me to him, and then we were airborne before plunging into the water. Even though the water was far from cold, it was definitely cooler than the air, and I came up spluttering as he laughed. With a growl, I launched toward him and he let out a shout as I managed to land on his shoulders and just barely dunked his head.
Before I could streak away though, he caught my leg and towed me back to him. Then he lifted me up and tossed me. Laughing when I came up this time, I pursued him across the pool. We spent the next hour laughing, dunking, and wrestling in the water, until I finally moved over to the steps and sat there, panting.
All the earlier nervous energy had been burned away, and my muscles protested the vigorous play, but I didn’t care. It had been fun. When Ian came to sit next to me, I leaned my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes as we just rested there.
“Feel better?” The quiet question nudged me from my near-doze state.
“How did you know?”
“You’ve been pretty wired the last few days,” Ian said. “Yesterday when you crashed out like that, I knew you’d probably had enough, and you worked so hard today at not letting anything bother you.”
I sighed. “Apparently not hard enough.”
“I pay attention,” he said, trailing his fingers up and down my arm soothingly. “I’m trying to anyway, and you have a way of smiling when it’s the last thing you want to be doing.”
Lifting my head, I twisted to face him. “I do?”
“Yeah. The smile is here,” he murmured, tracing my lips with his finger before gliding his touch up to brush against the corner of my eyes. “But it doesn’t reach here. You distract people because you can be solemn and you get harried and busy, so you don’t have to focus on any one thing. I still saw it.”
I swallowed. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be seen like that.
“I’m not going to dig at you. This weekend had some epic suck moments.”
Yeah, it had.
“But,” he continued, cupping my face. “I think it had some good ones, too.”
“Sunday was nice—later. Sorta—I mean it was, but later in the day. Not first thing. That was…” I wasn’t sure I wanted to talk about the stuff with my mom. I’d told Archie because it was about his dad, too. But the rest?
“I’m glad,” he continued, then tugged my wet hair gently. “If you ever need to talk, you know you can talk to me, right? About anything? Even—even the other guys.”
“You punched Archie when I talked to you about what happened, even when I said I was fine with it.”
He met my gaze unflinchingly. “He deserved that hit, and he’d be the first one to tell you he did.”
“So if I tell you about Jake or Coop, are you going to hit them, too?”
“If they’re dumber than a box of rocks, probably.” He blew out a breath. “But I will try to restrain it to those times when they really deserve it. And before you get started winding yourself up about that, I fully expect Jake or Archie or Coop to knock me on my ass if I’m stupid where you’re concerned.”
“So… when do I knock you guys on your ass when you’re stupid? Or who knocks me on mine?” Because I was genuinely curious.
Ian chuckled. “You’re the smart one, Frankie. You can very effectively knock us on our ass. As I recall—you flat out told us to get out. You said there were boundaries. And you said you wanted to date.” He coiled a lock of hair around his finger and tugged. “And no one is knocking you on your ass.” Then he reeled me closer and nuzzled a kiss. “Because anyone who tries to knock you down is going to have to get past us.”
I sighed as he teased kisses down my throat.
“Now,” he murmured against my throat. “We better get out of the pool, and I need to order the pizza.”
Laughter eddied through the shivers of his breath whispering against my skin. “We have a lot of homework to do.”
“Hmm-hmm…and I want to play you the new song and see what you think.”
“I love it,” I told him, and he lifted his head.
“You haven’t heard it yet.”
I shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. You have an amazing voice, and I love listening to you.”
Arms wrapped around me, he chuckled. “You’re good for my ego. I may have to keep you.”
“Oh, the horror,” I mock groaned.
“The horror, huh?” Then he had me up and I eyed him.
“Ian!”
“Oh, but it’s the horror…” And he tossed me into the water, and it was even chillier against my sun-warmed skin. When I resurfaced, he was standing on the side, hands on his hips—looking damn good. “So—pineapple?”
A delightful shiver went through my whole body at the look in his eyes. “Yes please.”
And it was my turn to do laps. Because all I wanted to do was climb him like a pole. When I finally abandoned the pool, he hauled me out and handed me a towel.
The next hour we actually spent on homework, but he kept my feet in his lap and would occasionally put a warm hand on my ankle while we worked through the calculus problems. The only break we took was for pizza, and then he dragged my feet back to rest against his thigh.
“Want to grab a shower and change before we head up to my room?”
I’d like a lot of things, but I’d settle for a shower. “Meet in your room when I’m done?”
“Hmm-hmm… unless you want to use my shower,” he offered.
“With you?”
He squeezed my ankle. “I’m not in a rush.”
Surprise flickered through me.
“Don’t get me wrong—I like making out with you, and I like having you here and I want to do more, but I’m not rushing anything. You’re important enough for me to take my time. You’re worth more than a rush.”
Warmth bloomed in my chest. Valued. Appreciated. Wanted. It was—a weirdly wonderful feeling. After another squeeze to my ankle, he started packing up his stuff.
“Besides,” he said as he stood and raked his gaze over me, smile teasing. “Anticipation is half the fun.”
“So you’re saying we’d only have half-as-much fun if we rushed it?” I raised my eyebrows.
He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Head tilted, he squinted at me. “Definitely not saying that, but I still want to take my time. Enjoy every aspect of it. That’s okay, right?”
“Yes,” I answered swiftly. “It’s more than okay.” But he hadn’t taken his time with… Nope, I shoved her name unmentioned out of my head. She didn’t get to be a part of this.
And he just said I was more important and worth taking his time. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For saying I’m worth it.”
The look he gave me sent another wave of warmth through me. “Hell, Frankie… if you need me to tell you that every day, then you better get ready to be sick of it.” When he held out an arm, I slid right against him and he hugged me tight, whispering, “You’re the best. Never forget that.”
It was easy when he was holding me and telling me.
It really was.
So I savored the moment. “Pizza. Compliments. Kisses. Now songs. I think you’re pretty perfect, too.”
Sprawled on his bed an hour later while he worked through the minor key change in “Message in a Bottle”, I confirmed my earlier opinion. Ian had a gift.
Even more, we had the right song. Poignant. Haunting. Memorable.
And all him.
Chapter Fifteen
Games Teens Play
Instead of heading directly back to his place, Ian took us for a ride around the lake. Between the wind against my face, the rumble of the motorcycle between my legs, and the ripple of his muscles under my hands as we flew down the winding road, the day kind of faded away. Not that it had been a bad day, but by the end of it, I’d been exhausted.
I told myself that the other kids talking about me didn’t matter. It didn’t. In a few months, I’d graduate, and then I was out of here. I’d be on my way to college—c’mon Harvard, get me in!—I’d be living in a whole new city, having a whole new life, and who cared what the kids at Robertson High thought?
If I was lucky, the guys would be going to Harvard too, or MIT for Jake and Archie. They’d be close by, and if not—well, we’d find a way to stay in touch. It wasn’t like we didn’t text sixty times a day. It would be fine. Mom would do—well, whatever she was going to do, and I’d have my own life separate from having to worry about her. I shuttled her to the side, I hadn’t called her back, and she hadn’t texted or reached out again, and I kind of hoped it stayed that way.
I wasn’t ready to really talk to her.
Eyes closed, I drank in the sensation of the ride and only opened them when Ian slowed us down and then came to a stop. We were parked on one of the pseudo bluffs overlooking the lake. The whole area was dotted with them; little turn offs that offered some privacy from the road and ideal for picnicking or photos. Come spring, everyone and their brother would be out here for graduation pics.
Ugh. There was another thing I didn’t want to think about. Even though we stopped, I didn’t let go of him until he twisted a little, and then it was only to lean back so I could meet his gaze.
“Hi,” he murmured, and his husky tenor rolled right over me like a hug in motion. The sunglasses hid his deep blue eyes, but I didn’t need to see them to know the smile curving his lips definitely filled them. Ian seemed to smile with his whole being. It was one of the things I’d always adored about him.
“Hi,” I answered, rubbing my thumb idly against his side since I had only dropped my hands to his waist rather than let him go entirely.
“Would you agree we’re not at school anymore?” He quirked his brows high, and I laughed.
“Definitely not at school—” He twisted, one arm snaking around my waist, and then his mouth closed over mine and I forgot the rest of the sentence. The slow, even massage of his caress teased me. Firm, yet soft, and then he stroked his tongue along the seam of my lips and I opened to him.
Heat swept me from head to toe. Kissing Ian was like taking a deep dive into a perfectly crystal pool. The depths were so much more than I expected, and the sensations unraveling had me digging my fingers into him as he sucked on my tongue. Then just as swiftly as he deepened the kiss,
he eased it down with light nipping kisses, drawing on my lower lip and then whispering them away before nuzzling the corner of my mouth.
Coils of tension looped around me in an ever-shrinking circumference until I plastered against his side, my thighs against his, and he lifted his head with a sigh that I echoed.
“I’ve been waiting to do that all day,” he told me, and I shuddered.
“Yeah?”
“Well, since the last time you let me kiss you really—but that seems like eons ago.”
It did. I licked my lips and lifted a hand to cup his cheek. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” He shut off the bike and the rumbling noise ceased abruptly, leaving us in a quiet punctuated only by a breeze off the lake and the hum of traffic on the loop beyond the trees.
“For saying no more PDAs at school,” I said. “It’s been a lot the last few days, and then I told everyone they couldn’t kiss me.”
“No,” he said, rubbing his hand in a slow circle against my back. “You don’t have to apologize for telling us what you need. Always tell me what’s going on, seriously. If we talked like this before—maybe we could have avoided some of our issues.”
I laughed, even if it wasn’t terrifically funny. “I used to think we were always honest with each other. We always talked.”
“I know,” he promised, head forward so his helmet rested against mine. They made a little thunk noise that pulled another giggle out of me. “Me, too. Then I found out we’re all a little hard-headed.” His grin widened, and I laughed again.
“Only a little?”
“Well, I think we’re learning.” The breeze helped to dispel some of the humid air and the heat. The rain might have washed out their game, but it had a nice cooling effect on the weekend. But the sticky air and warmer temps returned. We were probably still in for a few weeks more of overwarm weather.
Changes and Chocolates: Untouchable Book Two Page 20
