Текст книги "Believe"

Автор книги: Erin McCarthy

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Chapter Five
Robin

Getting ready to go to the park with Phoenix sent me into ambitious activity, displaying more energy than I had all summer. I grabbed a blanket for the ground, packed a cooler with water bottles and energy drinks, along with chips and string cheese, and collected my pencil kit and two sketchbooks. Then I applied sunscreen to my nose and cheeks. I had even shaved my legs in the shower, though I didn’t bother to blow-dry my hair. I just towel dried it, then let it do it’s thing.

Phoenix showered after me while I was packing things up, and he came back downstairs just as I had everything by the door to go. His hair was wet and dangling in his face, but he had put his shirt back on, which was good. I had decided at some point during the last twelve hours that why yes, I was in fact attracted to him. Very much so. The realization had come to me sometime between midnight and five a.m. and was absolutely undeniable when he had come into my room and laid down beside me. I had been aware of every inch of my body, yet he had never made a single move toward me.

As far as I could tell, Phoenix just wanted a friend.

So it was better if he stayed covered because there was something totally drool-worthy about his muscles and all that skin displaying his bleeding heart tattoo. It covered so much real estate, it must have hurt like a bitch to get that done. Given that his shorts were too big, they tended to strain down, exposing the ab muscles I now understood how he’d gotten. He had been tenacious doing those crunches. But I was determined that I could ignore any reactions my body made toward his and embrace a new friendship.

I liked his company.

I didn’t want him to leave.

I wasn’t really sure why but I figured it didn’t matter.

For the first time all summer, I wasn’t spending the majority of my time hating myself.

“Here, let me carry that,” he said, taking the small, soft cooler from my hand. He also picked up the blanket and tucked it under his arm. He gave me a smile. “Are we going on a picnic? Man, I never thought I’d be doing this.”

“Too lame?” Maybe it was too tame of an entertainment for him. I admit I was a little disappointed.

“No. It’s just no one has ever invited me on a picnic before. Once when I was about ten my mom and my aunt took me and my cousins to the fair, but they got high behind the grandstand, and Riley got busted for stealing a hot dog for Jayden. The cops cuffed him for twenty minutes to scare him before letting him go. I don’t think Easton was born yet. Or maybe my aunt was pregnant with him at the time. I don’t know, I don’t remember. I just remember thinking that it was like a whole fairground full of families doing normal shit and having fun and eating craploads of food, and I couldn’t have any of it.” Phoenix made a face. “And I have no idea why I just bored you with a shitty story like that.”

What did I say to that? I knew he didn’t want my pity. And he seemed to be musing about the past more than anything. “I don’t have any hot dogs,” I said. “But I can pretty much guarantee insects and oppressive sun, so you’ll get the genuine picnic experience.”

Phoenix gave a short laugh. “Thanks. That’s nice of you.”

“When I was ten I had a bird shit on my head at the fair. I tried to wash it out in the bathroom but it was still gunky and I cried for an hour before insisting on sitting in the car alone sulking.” The memory made me smile. “I was kind of a jerk about it. And my brothers called me Shithead for the rest of the summer.”

“Brothers are good for that. Probably the only reason I’m glad I don’t have any. Are they older than you?”

“Yes.” We started down the stairs. “They’re thirty and twenty-seven. I was born when my brother was in kindergarten. I think I was a bit of a surprise.” Though I was pretty confident it was a happy surprise. My mother had always wanted a girl, and one of her favorite things to do was take me for a mani/pedi.

“Why is everyone so surprised by pregnancy?” Phoenix asked. “If you have sex, the probability is there.”

Wondering if he was thinking about Angel, I locked the front door behind us. “True. But my mom is sixty now. I think she thought she was too old to get pregnant again.”

“I don’t know how old my mom is,” he said as we walked down the driveway. There was a frown on his face. “I guess she has to be about . . . forty-three?”

“How old are you?” I asked him, starting to hate his mother. She sounded awful. We got in my car, Phoenix loading the cooler and blanket into the backseat.

“I’m twenty. My birthday is September second.”

“That’s in a week and a half. Do you have plans?”

“I plan to sit outside somewhere and appreciate my freedom. Maybe I’ll buy myself a Dilly Bar at DQ.”

It had been a stupid question. What kind of plans did I expect him to have? A big event at a restaurant? A party bus? “That sounds awesome. Can I steal that idea for my birthday in November? It’ll be my twenty-first, too, and I know everyone is going to expect me to go out and party and get loaded and it just isn’t my thing. Not anymore.”

“It’s your birthday. Do whatever you want. Fuck ’em.”

“I have a feeling you’re better at living that philosophy than I am. I worry too much about what people think.” Part my personality, part the way I’d been raised, I was definitely a people pleaser. I wanted everyone to be happy. To like me. I backed down the driveway and paused at the street, but as I looked left and the right, I saw Phoenix was doing it again, staring at me in a way I didn’t understand.

“We’re pack animals. It’s natural to want to belong. But some of us never will. We’re meant to be alone.”

Was that me now? God, I hoped not. I was so lonely I ached with it. But here, in the hot car with Phoenix, I felt like at least one person understood what I felt like, and I wondered if two loners could make each other less lonely. So far, the answer for me was yes.

“Do you want to drive?” I asked, putting my car in park. I didn’t want to have to focus on the road. I wanted to watch him, and I wanted to feel . . . I don’t know . . . taken care of.

But he shook his head. “I don’t have any insurance.” Then for some reason he laughed. “Actually, I don’t even have a license.”

“You don’t have a license? I thought you said you borrowed Riley’s car. Why don’t you have a license?”

“Long story.” He was smiling. “But the gist of it is you need actual proof of who you are to get a driver’s license. I don’t have any of that. No birth certificate, no Social Security card. Just my criminal record. And I might have possibly been breaking the law in driving up the street, but don’t tell my parole officer.”

It didn’t seem like being unable to drive or breaking parole was all that hilarious, but he looked good smiling. I couldn’t help but grin back. “I guess I’m driving then.”

“Good plan.”

The park was only a few minutes away. I found a spot in the lot, and we climbed out and moved past the reflecting pool where kids were dipping their fingers and dogs were drinking. It wasn’t as hot as it had been, and the sun felt good on my bare shoulders as we staked out a spot and Phoenix spread the blanket. The band playing in the gazebo was some kind of big band–style quintet, and the majority of the guys I knew would think it was seriously corny, but Phoenix didn’t say anything. He just laid down on the blanket and stripped his shirt up, balling it behind his head. His foot tapped up and down to the music and he lounged.

“Look at the sky,” he said.

Using my hands to cradle my head, I lay down on my back next to him and stared upward at the vast blue umbrella of the atmosphere above us. I felt a lazy contentment I hadn’t in months. The breeze ruffled the sundress I had put on, not because it was a fashion statement but because it was loose and easy and didn’t crawl up my ass like all those short shorts I had bought last year. My dress danced over my knees, and my hair ruffled softly, and the sun warmed my skin while the band played something bouncy and retro in the background.

“‘The bluebird carries the sky on his back.’ That’s Henry David Thoreau.” Poetry didn’t always make sense to me, but the American transcendentalists we had studied freshman year told a simple message I could understand.

“‘No one is free, even the birds are chained to the sky,’” Phoenix said. “That’s Bob Dylan.”

Turning my head toward Phoenix, I ran my tongue over my bottom lip, in a bit of awe of the moment, that I was here, like this, with him, someone I hadn’t even known two days earlier, and that the jagged edges of anxiety were being softened. “Poor birdies,” I whispered. “Chained, carrying the sky . . . so burdened.”

“Yeah,” he murmured, and his hand shifted, his fingers entwining with mine. His grip was loose but solid. “Poor birds. Sucks to be them.”

We lay like that, holding hands, staring up at the sky, and for the first time in a very long time, I thought maybe I was going to be okay. Or at the very least like I wouldn’t shatter into a million pieces upon contact.

* * *

Phoenix and I spent the whole day at the park. We borrowed a Frisbee from a group of guys and tossed it back and forth. Phoenix played with a random German shepherd in an impromptu game of chase, followed by tug-of-war with a tennis ball. I sketched on the blanket and watched him, enjoying the way he was coming alive, opening up, losing that tight, controlled look. There was a food truck, and I bought us two coneys with cheese. He ate his in two bites.

“I owe you,” he said, sprawling out on the blanket. “As soon as I get paid I’m going to buy you a bunch of groceries.”

“You don’t have to do that.” I managed to eat half of mine before handing it to him to finish.

“And you didn’t have to hang out with the jailbird, but you did.” Phoenix lifted the rest of my coney to his mouth, but before he popped it in, he asked, “Why did you?”

I shrugged. It wasn’t any sort of great mystery. He was offering companionship, and with him, I could be myself. “Because I wanted to.”

“And I want to buy you groceries. It’s simple.”

I nodded. I understood what he was saying. He wanted to be nice to me for the same reason I wanted to be nice to him—because I liked him. It really was that simple and uncomplicated, and it felt relaxing, safe.

How ironic that I felt safe with someone who had just gotten out of jail. That probably made me stupid, but I just felt good. Normal.

I was sketching a bird. It just seemed like the imagery was stuck in my head after our conversation. I didn’t want to draw a phoenix, that was too literal. And drawing a robin would be just conceited or something. So I drew a simple sparrow, pulling up some images on my phone to see what they looked like. I felt more sparrow than robin anyway. Robins were showy. That wasn’t me anymore.

After a while, Phoenix started to sketch, too, and I was curious what he was drawing. I admit to being a total girl and wanted him to be sketching me in a perfect ending to a perfect day. But when he showed it to me, it was a cobra, spreading its hood, looking super pissed off.

Okay, so he wasn’t waxing poetic about my lips or whatever in charcoal.

It was still an awesome day.

Until Phoenix ran into a guy he’d known in prison.

We were cleaning up our wrappers and empty water bottles, and Phoenix had just tossed them in the nearest garbage can when a guy yelled, “Hey, brother, what’s up?” and clamped Phoenix on the back.

He was a big guy, covered in tattoos, including on his face and shaved head, and while his smile looked friendly enough, I saw that Phoenix tensed immediately. “Davis,” Phoenix said, shaking his hand. “Good to see you, man.”

“Yeah, yeah, you too. When did you get out?”

“Tuesday.”

Davis’s eyes shifted over to me, and he gave a low whistle of appreciation that had me fighting the urge to cover a chest that wasn’t even remotely exposed in my dress. “This your girl? Angel? As pretty as her name.”

Nothing like hearing he had talked about his ex in jail to ruin whatever fantasy I had started spinning in my head. Or hearing that he’d been in jail, because I had almost convinced myself that hadn’t happened. Or if it had, he had a good reason. Which I didn’t really know.

“This is just a friend,” Phoenix said, but he shifted his body so that he was more firmly between me and Davis.

Davis caught the message. He shook his head slowly. “Don’t be like that, Sullivan. You still owe me.”

“Yeah, I do.” Phoenix nodded in agreement, but his entire posture had changed. He was leaning forward in aggression, clearly to show he wasn’t afraid. Davis was twice his width, but Phoenix didn’t look scared. “But that doesn’t mean you can look at her.”

Before I could even react, Davis’s fist came out to grab the front of Phoenix’s shirt, but he anticipated the move, so he did the same. They were both holding with a tight grip, faces inches away from each other. I was so shocked I jumped, but didn’t make any sound. I couldn’t. My throat felt closed with fear. For a second I thought they were going to head butt each other and go down in a flurry of fists.

Then Davis laughed. “Crazy-ass punk.” He let go of Phoenix. “That’s what I like about you, man.”

Phoenix relaxed a little, and let go of Davis in return. “Sorry, bro, didn’t mean to overreact.”

“No worries. I’m not planning to take what you owe me out of your girl’s ass. That ain’t my style.”

Oh my God. That did not sound like anything I ever wanted to hear. I made a strangled noise like a dying rabbit.

“Shit, I scared her, didn’t I?” Davis asked Phoenix. “Sorry.” He held his hands up toward me. “Don’t worry, Angel, I actually like your pretty boy here. It’s all good.”

I nodded, too terrified to speak. My palms and pits were sweating with stress, and I felt about the furthest thing from badass to ever exist.

“You do have a way with the ladies, Davis,” Phoenix said, rolling his eyes. He reached out and took my sweaty hand, squeezing it for reassurance.

“Fuck you,” Davis said, but he didn’t look offended. “But you know I like me a big girl, one who can handle all this man.” He gestured to his girth.

Phoenix laughed. “A bull rider, huh?”

“Exactly.” He reached out and gave Phoenix a fist bump. “I’ll catch up with you later, man. I’ll be in touch.”

Phoenix nodded. “Take it easy.”

But he didn’t fully relax until Davis was a good fifteen feet away. Then when I looked at him, his expression was hard.

“What was that all about?”

“Don’t worry about it. He won’t hurt you, I promise.” Phoenix let go of my hand and dropped to the blanket. “We should go soon. It’s getting dark already.”

I sank to my knees, not sure what to say. That wasn’t a good enough answer for me. “Who was that guy? I mean, obviously you knew him in prison, but is he a friend? What do you owe him?”

Phoenix sighed, and he stared at me, his hand brushing over my knee. “Not friends. Allies. You need someone to watch your back in jail. That’s all. Don’t worry about it. It’s got nothing to do with you.”

“Why did you let him think I’m Angel?”

“Because he doesn’t need to know your real name.”

I let it go because I didn’t want to ruin the day. I didn’t want to see him retreat and close up any more than he already had. So I didn’t ask all the questions that were burning in me. I ignored them and lay back down beside him. Phoenix pulled me close to him, and our bodies touched for the first time when he wrapped his arm around me and I leaned onto his chest.

“Look at that,” he murmured, pointing up at the sky. “Fireworks downtown.”

“The Reds must have won their baseball game.” I relaxed onto him, letting my hand rest on his stomach. He was firm and warm, and I smiled a little in the dark, appreciating the irony of the fireworks display over us. So he hadn’t sketched a picture of me. This was a close second for perfect ending. The fear Davis had inspired retreated, and I marveled at how peaceful it was, even in a crowded park. Phoenix’s fingers found their way into my hair and he stroked the strands, causing goose bumps to rise on my skin.

“I missed the whole summer,” he murmured. “But none of it would have been as good as today was anyways.”

My heart swelled, and I found myself lightly stroking his stomach.

When we were encouraged by the cops to leave the park with everyone else twenty minutes later, we rolled up the blanket and walked to the car. There was no mention by either of us of taking him to his cousins’ house. I just drove to my apartment and we went upstairs, tired and a little sunburned. Phoenix sank down onto the couch and patted the seat next to him.

It seemed safe to mention it now that we were in my place and we had implied he would be staying over by coming here. “I don’t mind you sleeping in my bed again,” I told him, which sounded bolder than I meant it to. I just meant that he didn’t need to bother to start out on the couch, because the truth was, I wanted him sleeping with me. There was something comforting about his presence in a way that made no sense at all. I knew that. But it didn’t make it any less real.

“Thanks. I’ll take you up on that. But I guess I have to go back to Riley’s eventually,” he told me, taking my hand and pulling me up close to him. “I’m going to need to change my underwear at some point.”

I laughed. “True. And I can’t help you with that unless you like bikini style.” Funny how I had abandoned the thongs when I had stopped wearing the tight Lycra dresses out at parties and clubs. No longer worried about panty lines, I had gradually shifted back to fuller coverage for comfort.

“I’m good with boxer briefs, thanks. Dental floss in my ass doesn’t work for me.” He reached for the remote. “You okay watching a movie?”

“Sure.” I should have been sleepy. That was my constant state of existence lately. But I was wide awake.

Waiting for him to kiss me. That’s what I was doing. But he didn’t seem like he was going to do anything other than channel surf, with me leaning on him, his other hand stroking my hair.

It was stupid to want him, stupid to want more.

I should be grateful that he wasn’t taking our relationship in that direction, that he was clearly just interested in companionship or something.

Because what the hell did I really know about him?

But what I knew was that he made me feel like I could look people in the eye again. He made me feel like I wasn’t going to break into a thousand pieces at any given moment. He made my hands stop shaking and helped my breathing slow down.

He made me feel like a crumbling wall that has suddenly gotten new mortar between each brick and feels stable again.

And if he could make me feel that way, maybe I could make myself feel that way, too.

Chapter Five
Phoenix

Selfish asshole, that was me. I should have gone home. I should have deleted her number after we ran into Davis in the park, but man, when she looked at me like that—like she thought I was something amazing instead of a piece of shit—I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t leave.

I couldn’t stop myself from touching her either, though I was working damn hard at making sure it was nothing more than holding hands or my arm around her.

So maybe humping her head with my hand wasn’t exactly keeping it cool, but I’d been dying to touch her hair since the minute I’d met her, so fucking sue me for going for it. She didn’t seem to mind, which was insane. Why she wasn’t terrified of me by that point, I couldn’t figure out. No self-preservation at all.

Except since it was working in my favor, I couldn’t exactly fault her.

When she started to doze, pressed against me, I shook her hand a little. “Hey. Let’s go to bed. You’ll have a headache tomorrow if you sleep like this.”

In the glowing light of the TV she glanced up at me, her eyes glassy and wide. She smiled. “Okay.”

The urge to kiss her was so strong I felt my temple pulse as I clenched my free fist, digging nails into the flesh of my palm. I couldn’t do that to her. I couldn’t drag her down to my level.

“Come on,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady, even. I led her down the hallway to her little room and she stumbled along behind me.

The bedroom was small, cell size. When I stepped inside, I felt the tension inside me getting ready to explode. The room surrounded me, trapped me, and I felt guilty for grabbing at her in my sleep that morning, for taking advantage of her niceness, for exposing her to a guy like Davis.

For enjoying spending time with her, for wanting her so bad I could practically taste her on my tongue.

She crawled onto the bed still in her sundress and peeled back the sheet. Once under it, she settled down onto her pillow with a sigh. Her hand reached out for mine. “Aren’t you coming to bed?”

One, two, three small breaths out nice and slow. “In a minute,” I told her, and my voice sounded completely normal. How I had no idea. “I need to take a piss.” I leaned forward and brushed her hair back off her forehead. When my hand started to shake I pulled it back.

“’kay.” Her eyes were already closed.

I retreated slowly, trying not to make too much noise. I eased her door almost all the way shut, then went into the living room. Even though I wanted to punch the shit out of something, there was nothing to punch. Nothing to throw. So I did push-ups, at a grueling pace, three reps of thirty each. Then I went up and down the stairs twenty times, grateful for the old, dingy carpet so Robin couldn’t hear me.

The doctors could take their meds and shove them up their ass. They’d made me take them in jail, and I hadn’t felt any different. Intermittent explosive disorder? Go fuck yourself.

The only thing wrong with me was that my mom was an asshole and I’d been left on my own too much. Nothing else.

Someday I would fall in love like every other idiot did at one time or another. I just couldn’t let it be with Robin.

But I knew how to control my emotions. I always had.

I went back upstairs, peeled off my shirt, and eased myself into bed beside Robin, still breathing hard. She was out cold, and I lay there and let my muscle fatigue become the focus of my thoughts. The way my shoulders burned, the strain in my calves. The pain crowded out the other thoughts, and I finally relaxed.

Careful not to move too much, I turned my head and watched her sleep. I hadn’t had a lot of opportunity to sleep next to a girl. In high school my girlfriend had stayed over a few times when my mother wasn’t home, but her parents had busted her and that had been the end of that. Angel had stayed with me once, but she had gotten pissed at me for taking too much space and had kicked me in the shins hard before stomping off to sleep on the couch.

But Robin seemed to like me in her space. She shifted toward me on the couch when we watched TV, she had turned toward me on the blanket in the park, and in bed she curled her legs up and tucked her hands under her chin, but always facing me.

I studied her face in the dark, wanting to memorize it, to sketch it later.

She was beautiful. She was naive.

She felt like my reward for surviving jail.

I stayed awake for an hour watching her, before drifting into oblivion.

* * *

Another nightmare shattered my sleep. In this one I was watching my mother being raped by Iggy, half conscious from the beating he’d given her and from the drugs. Her body moved sluggish with each thrust, his grunts making my stomach roil, but there was a cell wall between me and her, so I couldn’t help her.

Then it wasn’t my mom anymore.

It was Robin, and her eyes were dead of any of the sweetness I’d seen, even void of the sadness she had shown me. They were just empty. Black holes. There was nothing there as that bastard abused her body in the most violating way possible.

I pounded on the cell walls, yelling, shaking the bars until my throat was hoarse and my hands were bleeding. I wanted to explode outside of myself and kill him for hurting her.

I had done this to her. I had killed her soul.

Then suddenly I fell through as the glass wall dissolved into nothing and I was free, but Robin wasn’t there anymore . . .

Waking up with a start as I fell, I half sat up. I must have made a sound because Robin jerked awake, too.

“Shit,” I muttered, heart pounding, sweat all over the back of my neck, the image of her still floating in front of my eyes. “God.”

“Are you okay?” Her hand stroked my arm, then my back, her touch warm and small and caring.

And suddenly I didn’t give a fuck that I was bad for her. She was letting me be there, right? She was offering comfort and I was going to take it, because I couldn’t stand the way she had stared at me in my dream, like I wasn’t there. Like I didn’t exist.

“Yeah,” I whispered, wiping my forehead as I eased myself back down onto the mattress. “I’m fine.”

She touched my cheek and pushed my hair back. “Are you sure?”

Nodding, I shifted closer to her so that our faces were aligned. She was so beautiful, so sweet, so trusting. I ached with want, the need to touch her greater than my self-control. I needed to see her smile, see her willingness to kiss me. Me. Her eyes, still heavy with sleep, darkened as I watched her, running my fingers down her cheek to her lips.

She knew what I was about to do because her mouth drifted open, so that when I kissed her, she kissed me back. And of course, just to torture me, it felt as good as I had imagined. God. Those lips were plump and soft, and nothing had ever felt so simple and good and important. She gave a little sigh that had me pulling her leg up onto my hip so we could be closer, my other hand buried in her thick hair.

Robin was safe, I wasn’t in a cell, and the kiss was perfect, our bodies pressed against each other, my tongue darting in between her lips. She opened for me without hesitation, and her hips started to rock against mine. Her skin, her breath, were warm, and my hands felt big, covering so much territory on her body at once. Our breathing got heavier, and I was inching under her dress, endorphins or whatever the hell they were called shutting down my ability to think rationally.

Which is exactly how we were when her roommate flung open the door and said, “Robin, sweetie, you awake—oh shit, sorry!”

Robin broke off our kiss and yanked her leg off of me, slumberous eyes now full alert. “Kylie?” she breathed, rolling onto her back and gripping her chest. “Oh my God, you scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry. I didn’t know you had, um, a friend here.” The blonde in the doorway eyed me with a naked curiosity that annoyed me. She started twirling her hair around her finger, and her hip came out as she leaned on the doorframe.

Shoving my hair out of my eye, I sat up, giving her a long look that hopefully would send her scurrying away. A little privacy wasn’t too much to ask for, was it? Christ. Since she had just interrupted what was shaping up to be a fucking awesome moment.

Her eyes widened. “We can catch up later.”

“What are you doing?” A guy’s voice came booming down the hall, then a head appeared behind her. “What is going on here?” He took in Robin and me in bed, and he looked appalled. “Phoenix? Phoenix Sullivan?”

Fuck. I knew this guy. It was Nathan, Tyler’s best friend from middle school on. I’d always thought he was a bit of a tool. “Nathan? What’s up, man?” I gave him a casual head nod, reaching for Robin’s hand.

Her cheeks were stained pink with embarrassment, and she had curled up into a ball.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked me.

None of his business. I shrugged. “Hanging out with Robin.”

“She’s not just some chick you can screw around with.” Nathan looked and sounded angry.

Robin made a small sound in the back of her throat, but otherwise she didn’t say a word. She looked like she was fighting the urge to cry. She didn’t seem anything like the girl I’d just spent the last forty-eight hours with. She looked like the girl I’d met in Tyler’s living room, tenting herself inside her T-shirt. She was literally tucking her legs into her body right beside me. What the hell?

“Hey,” I said, getting pissed off right back at him. “Mind your own business. You’re embarrassing Robin. You don’t know a goddamn thing about what is going on here, but I do think you know I’m not someone to fuck with.” I’d mop the goddamn floor with him and his baseball scholarship. Thought he was someone because he was going to college. He could fuck the bat he swung to get there.

Since Robin’s hand was tucked away, I couldn’t squeeze it, but I did touch her hip when I stood up. I figured if I moved toward Nathan, he would back up. Which was exactly what he did.

“Does Tyler know?” he asked.

“Does Tyler know what?” My cousin appeared in the doorway, too, and when he saw me, the smile fell off his face. “Seriously? Phoenix, Jesus.”

I stepped forward, but they all stayed crowded in the doorway. “Back up!” I demanded, irritated. “You’re embarrassing her and it’s really starting to make me angry.”

Tyler knew well enough that angry was never a good look on me, so he tapped Nathan and jerked his head toward the living room. Once they cleared the doorway, I turned back to Robin and said, “It’s all good, don’t worry. Be back in a second.” I pulled the door closed behind me so she could recover or whatever. She was starting to freak me out. She looked so upset, way more than the situation merited. We weren’t even naked or anything. It was just a kiss. Well, kisses. It shouldn’t be that big of a deal.

Other than the fact that I shouldn’t have done it, but I didn’t think she really understood that. This was something else.

“Is there where you’ve been the last two days?” Tyler asked me. A pale redhead put her hand on his arm, like she wanted to calm him down.

“Yeah.”

“What about me saying it was a bad idea did you not understand?”

“The why.”

Tyler clenched his fists. “Dude, it’s like you want to screw yourself over. Why do you do that?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re just hanging out. It’s not a big deal.” But that was a lie. It was a big deal. I knew it was. It was a big deal in that they all knew just as well as I did that she was above my reach, but more important even than that, it was a big deal because I really, really liked her.