Текст книги "Just Me"

Автор книги: L.A. Fiore

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

Standing on the opposite side of the gym from me was Mica, dressed as a witch. Every inch of her skin covered which was odd since she usually covered just enough to not get thrown out. Again, I was tempted to ask her what was up with her odd behavior, but was pulled from that when I heard Poppy calling my name. Turning, I watched Queen Amidala and Anakin make their way over to me.

“Awesome costumes, guys.”

“Right back at you. What are you? A mermaid?”

“A siren.”

“I love it. Is Bastian here?” Poppy asked.

“Not yet.”

“I'm sure he's right behind us.”

I was so eager to see Bastian's costume that my eyes were glued to the entrance of the gym. As if I willed it, he appeared. I smiled the biggest, goofiest grin when I saw what he wore. His hair was down, but tucked behind his ears. He was dressed in faded jeans, his beat-up boots and a black tee with one word in large emerald-green letters written across his chest: LARK'S. Poppy must have seen my expression when she turned to see what I was looking at. Her reaction in response was priceless. “Well, there's the best costume of the night.”

I couldn't have agreed more. I walked, well ran, toward him, and the moment he saw me he halted and just stared. He took a very leisurely study of me from head to toe and back again.

“My siren—I'd follow you anywhere.”

I simply said, “Mine.”

His hand reached out to wrap around my neck to pull me closer. Right before his mouth touched mine he said, “Hell yes.”

***

Thoughts of sex would not leave my mind since the Halloween Dance. After the dance, to be more specific, when Bastian and I came back to his apartment and had a very hot make-out session on his new sofa. Despite myself, my aunt's hateful words lingered in the back of my mind. I didn't agree with her that Bastian was just using me, but it was infuriating that she had attempted to taint something as pure as my feelings for Bastian with her bullshit. I hated that she was in my head; that the idea of having sex with Bastian triggered the memory of that conversation. Again it was all a part of her plan, her mental abuse, but like Dominic had offered in regard to Bastian's parents, she only had power if I gave it to her. I ignored the same doubt I felt when Dominic shared those words of advice and turned my thoughts to a far more enjoyable subject.

Part of me thought Bastian and I weren't ready and that we should wait until we knew each other better. Another part of me still worried over his parents and how they intended to strike at us to break us up, but all the obstacles, real or imagined, no longer held the power they did because I wanted him. I wanted to touch every inch of him, taste him, wanted that connection to him: both physical and emotional. He was it for me, and so a larger part of me was ready to take that step with him. I could think of scarcely anything else.

It was crazy, because we'd only been together for two months, but he was who I wanted. I suspected I wouldn't be his first, but I wanted him to be mine.

We were sitting at the table Bastian had put in the kitchen so we had a place to do our homework. I hadn't meant to be so abrupt when I asked, “You've had sex before, haven't you?”

By the expression on his face, I had surprised him by both the question and the frankness of it.

“Yes, and not with just one partner.”

I already suspected this, but I couldn't deny I was disappointed. I think that was the word for the emotion his answer stirred.

He reached across the table and brushed his thumb across my lower lip before he touched my chin to lift my gaze to his. “You're upset.”

“Not upset. It would be unfair of me to be upset over something you did when we didn't even know each other. It's just the idea of you being intimate with someone makes me jealous.”

“And have you?” He asked.

“No.”

A possessive look moved over his features. He said, in a gruff voice, “If you had been with someone before me, I would have understood, but I would hate that guy because he knew you in a way only I want to know.”

Lowering my head, I struggled to find the right words because they were so foreign on my tongue.

“What are you thinking, Lark?”

Somehow I managed to find and hold his heated gaze. “I want to with you, have sex I mean.”

“I want that too.” His voice had grown thick.

“I think we should wait, though, until after my birthday.”

“Why?”

“I don't really know. Maybe because of your parents and their need to meddle or maybe because it's so close anyway.”

Something dark swept across his face and I suspected my concern over his parents' meddling wasn't crazy after all. He didn't speak of it though and instead asked, “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

He leaned over and kissed me—quick, but full of meaning. “I'll be counting the days.”

“Me too.”

His grin in reply was wicked.

“There's something else I've been wanting to tell you. Ms. Whitney applied for a scholarship for me and I won it.”

“That's awesome, congratulations.” As I watched though his smile at the news suddenly faded. “Are you not going to Columbia?”

“I'm still going to Columbia.”

“Thank God.”

“But, there is a but. It's a full academic scholarship and I also have to mentor with the man who's sponsoring it. Due to some personal reasons for him, I have to move to Harrington, Maine at the end of April.”

He caught on immediately. “No senior prom.”

“I'm afraid not.”

“I won't lie, I really would have liked having the most beautiful girl in the state of New York on my arm for prom, but there's no question you should go to Maine.”

“You're not upset?”

“Upset? No. Disappointed, sure, but I'm so damn proud of you.”

I climbed into his lap and wrapped him in my arms. “Thank you.”

“In fact, since you're going to be gone all summer, I think I'm going to accept an apprenticeship I was offered in Massachusetts working on restoring old homes.”

“That's wonderful.”

“Yeah, it's a great opportunity. I wanted to be with you so I wasn't going to do it, but since you aren't going to be here, there's no reason for me not to accept.” He played with a lock of my hair. “Besides, since we're both going to Columbia, we will see each other every day, especially if you agree to move in with me.”

“I do agree.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“I'm going to hold you to that, Lark.”

I grinned as I held him even closer. “I was so hoping you would.”

***

The week that followed went by so quickly. The closer we got to my birthday, the more nervous and excited I grew. I knew Bastian felt it too, since he started to look at me in a way that made my whole body respond: my stomach felt all fluttery, my palms were perpetually sweaty and I had aches in places that were really distracting.

He was planning a surprise for my birthday and all he was willing to share was that I needed to dress up and that Poppy, Shawn, Sophia and Tyler, who was still Sophia's main squeeze after almost three months, were invited.

Poppy, Sophia and I were at the mall shopping in Neiman Marcus looking at cocktail dresses. Normally I shopped at far cheaper stores, so seeing the price tags was a shock. I'd have to dip into my savings if I bought a gown here, but I suspected the hit to my bank account would be worth it.

Sophia jerked me from my financial concerns when she blurted out rather unexpectedly, “I had sex with Tyler.”

Poppy reached for both of our hands. “Oh no, this is a discussion best had with ice cream.”

Once we were each sitting behind a huge dish of sugar and cream, Poppy and I turned our undivided attention to Sophia.

“Details.” I said.

“I really like him. I don't think he's my Shawn or Bastian, but we really click and we were both ready.”

“How was it?” Poppy asked.

“The first time was a bit awkward and painful, but each time since it's better and better.”

“Wait, how many times have you done it?” Poppy asked.

“Six.” A smile spread over Sophia's face, “It's incredible.”

I felt overly warm again just thinking about Bastian and me together especially since the wait was over. One look at Poppy, and I knew she was thinking about Shawn. My attention turned back to Sophia.

“I remember playing Barbies together, killing Ken in any way we could—the more gruesome the better. And our club where no boys were allowed and the love of our young lives was Mr. Snuffles, our clubhouse hamster. But we're getting older now and sex is a natural part of growing up. I'm happy for you, Sophia. Happy if you're happy.”

“I really am. Have you guys taken the plunge?” She asked me.

“No, but we're just waiting until after my birthday,” I said.

Poppy's eyes flew to mine. “You didn't tell me that. Your birthday is tomorrow.”

I grinned like the cat who ate the canary. “I know.”

“Why didn't you tell me?” Poppy sounded almost hurt.

“Well, we just recently discussed it.”

Poppy was silent for a minute and I realized that she didn't just sound hurt, she was hurt. “You haven't known each other very long. Are you sure you're ready?”

Her words stung, even though her comment was a valid one, because there was a small part of me that also wondered if I was rushing into something with Bastian. My reply sounded more confident than I was feeling. “I am. I want him, he wants me. We also talked about next year. Since we're both going to Columbia, we decided to get a place together. Financially, it'll be a challenge, but Bastian has a trust and I've applied for grants.”

“No way!” Sophia said in genuine surprise.

“Yeah. It's a huge step, but it just feels right.” And it did feel right: scary, new and uncharted, but right.

Sophia wasn't on the same page. “I get it, I do, but you're young and your feelings could change. Maybe you should do the dorm for the first year and see what happens with you and Bastian before embarking on something as huge as an apartment.”

“I agree with Sophia. You're in the honeymoon phase of your relationship, as wonderful as Bastian is. You may feel differently six months from now, or a year.”

I couldn't say how I knew but I did, my feelings for Bastian would never change. Trying to explain that wouldn't be easy and would most likely only cause more concern, so instead I conceded the point and agreed to rethink the apartment idea. Luckily this appeased them enough for Sophia to move the conversation away from me.

“Wait, Poppy, you never answered that original question—when?” Sophia prodded.

“The weekend after Thanksgiving, our ski trip, we've decided that's the weekend. And I am so ready.” She said this on an exaggerated exhale, which effectively lightened the mood and made Sophia and me burst out into laughter.

“Whatever Bastian is planning for my birthday, I'm really glad we're all going to be together.”

“Hear, hear,” Poppy said. “Now let's go shopping.”

***

That night I sat in my room looking at the dress I picked out for my birthday surprise. It was a Grecian-inspired drape-style satin dress with a chiffon overlay which draped over the right shoulder before falling down the back to mid-thigh. What made the dress even more special was that Poppy and Sophia bought it for me: their birthday gift to me. I couldn't wait for all of us to get dressed up and more, to finally learn what Bastian had planned. It was only Tuesday and the birthday surprise wasn't until Saturday. The suspense was killing me.

A knock at the door pulled my attention from the upcoming weekend. “Come in.”

You could have knocked me over with a feather when I saw Aunt Kim standing in the doorway of my bedroom. In the almost ten years since I'd lived here, she had never once voluntarily come into my room. I cleaned it, I put away my laundry and if something broke, I fixed it myself.

Her attention flickered to my dress and I noticed some emotion flash across her expression. It was gone too fast for me to discern what it was. I didn't greet her, because I wasn't sure my shocked brain was up to the task. Not to mention I was still pissed about the conversation in the kitchen the night of the Halloween dance.

“I wanted to talk to you about your birthday.”

I couldn't imagine what she wanted to talk about. The idea that she was actually interested in my birthday was completely improbable. There was a part of me though, as silly as it was, that hoped she really was interested: that she felt bad about her treatment of me and was willing to make the effort to include me in her family. My heart leapt at the thought, but I schooled my expression before I replied, “Okay.”

“You're turning eighteen tomorrow, which makes you legally an adult, and I want you to think about moving out.”

My overexcited heart stopped pounding for a second before it plunged into my stomach. I should have seen this coming and cursed myself for allowing even that small bit of hope into my heart. “Excuse me?”

“Look, I did right by my sister when I took you in, but there's no reason for you to continue to live here. You aren't any happier being here than I'm happy about having you here. I want my life and my family back.”

No matter how hardened I believed myself to be, I was clearly not hardened enough. My heart ached at her words.

“And Uncle Eddie?”

Anger flashed over her face. “Leave him out of this. Did you know he's been having some trouble at work—clients up and leaving him. Rumor has it they're getting pressured by the Rosses. I know you've been seeing their son. Your shit is putting his livelihood in jeopardy.”

I always knew my aunt's treatment of me was wrong, but after that conversation with my uncle, I now understood the root cause. She had been jealous of my mother. My temper stirred to know that her jealousy for my mom shifted to the shoulders of the eight-year-old girl I had been.

“I was eight when my mother died, when I lost the only family I ever knew. You could never see that I was just a child, like Carol and Deena. I had nothing to do with whatever drama happened between you and my mother. But you've spent the past ten years jealous of a dead woman and have hated me for the sin of looking like the woman your husband loved first.”

She reacted by slapping me, hard across the face, but instead of tears, I only felt fury.

“What's happening with the Rosses isn't about me, it's about their son. I'm just a means to an end. The Rosses don't play fair, but I apparently am more confident in Uncle Eddie's ability to handle this little bump in the road than you are. How can you look at yourself in the mirror knowing you took your spite out on an innocent child?”

She turned an unnatural shade of red. I walked to the door and held it open.

“I'll be gone tonight, but until then this is still my room, so get the fuck out.”

As soon as she was gone, I slammed and locked the door before I slid down it. I was so mad I was shaking and there were angry tears in my eyes. Never in my life had I ever experienced an emotion so vividly that it physically affected me. It took a good twenty minutes for me to calm down enough to call Bastian.

“Hey, beautiful.”

“Do you want a roommate?”

I had no doubt that the tone of my voice gave it away that something was seriously wrong. “What? What the hell happened?” He demanded.

“My aunt just kicked me out.”

“Motherfucker! I'll call Dom and we'll be there in twenty minutes. And Lark?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck yes, I want you for my roommate.”

My next call was to Poppy to let her know what was going on. She said a word I'd never heard her use before. “Wait, my dad wants to talk to you,” she said.

“Lark, are you all right?” Mr. Wright sounded pissed.

“Yeah, I'm okay,” I replied weakly, because the anger was fading into hurt.

“I can come over there right now and give that woman a piece of my mind. I could even scare her with some legal jargon.”

“No, I'm okay with leaving, Mr. Wright, but thank you. It means a lot to me that you would.”

“You're like another daughter to Priscilla and me, surely you know that. You're welcome to come live here.”

“Thanks, but I'm going to stay with Bastian.”

“You sure about that, Lark? Maybe you should take a few weeks to really think about it.”

“I'm sure.”

“Bastian is probably who you want to be with, but once everything settles, please reconsider staying with us.” The hesitation in my reply had him adding, “Promise, you'll at least think about it.”

“I will.”

“We're here for you, Lark, whenever you need us.”

I felt tears burning the back of my eyes. “I love you, Mr. Wright.”

He was silent for a moment. “I love you too, Lark.” His voice sounded thick with tears.

***

I was packing up my clothes in a duffel bag when I heard Bastian's voice and, boy, did he sound angry. I unlocked my door just as he and his brother were coming up the stairs. I almost felt sorry for my aunt, because they both looked really pissed. Bastian walked right to me and pulled me into a hug.

“I'm so sorry,” he said.

“I'm not.”

“I want you with me, but your aunt's methods suck.”

“I second that,” Dominic said as he moved into my room and started packing my art case.

We spent the next two hours packing the things I needed immediately in various crates and bags I had handy in my closet. There was a commotion moments before my uncle appeared in my room with a very worried-looking Aunt Kim right behind him.

“What the hell do you mean you're moving out? You're barely legal.”

My eyes flew to Aunt Kim and I now understood her worried look. I had always known that she lied to my uncle about me, but not to this insane extent. I was about to enlighten my uncle on the manipulative woman he married, but before I could say anything, Bastian moved, in all of his inked, hard-ass glory, to tower over him.

“Your wife kicked her out.” His blazing gaze turned to my aunt. “At least have the balls to admit it.”

“Wait, one minute.” My uncle tried to defend his wife, but Bastian wasn't having any of it.

He spat, “You don't deserve to breathe the same air as Lark. You're pathetic.”

I had never seen my uncle looking as he did in that moment. He was furious, but whether he was mad at how Bastian spoke to his wife or mad at his wife, I couldn't say. He didn't say anything for a minute, and I sensed it was because he was trying to understand what wasn't understandable. Suddenly he turned to Aunt Kim. “Did you kick your own niece out?”

She wasn't going to answer, but something in my uncle's expression made her scream, “Yes.”

“You've gone too far this time. She's your only sister's child—your only living blood relation outside of the girls.”

Kim just stood there and I didn't miss the malevolent look she threw in my direction. In the next second, as was her way, she burst into tears and ran down the hall.

My uncle turned back to me. “I'm sorry. I am so sorry. You are welcome to stay, but I don't blame you for not wanting to.”

“I'll be fine, and thank you for offering. Is it true some of your clients are getting pressure to seek help elsewhere?”

“She told you that too? Damn her. I'll handle it.”

I felt Bastian tense at my side. “Who's applying the pressure?”

And clearly he saw the answer in my uncle's eyes. “Son of a bitch.”

“Dad,” Dominic said almost at the same time. “Goddamn them.”

“Don't worry about it. It's only a mild inconvenience and considering how stunningly I've failed Larkspur, I'd say I deserve the headache. I'm here for you whenever you need me.”

“Thank you, Uncle Eddie.”

He then took off his jacket and tie and rolled up his sleeves. “What can I do?”

***

Two hours later Bastian and I were thanking Dominic and my uncle for their help and when the door of his apartment closed and Bastian flipped the lock, I felt a wonderful sense of peace despite the drama of the evening. He felt it too when he pulled me to him and whispered, “I'm really glad you're here.”

I rested my head on his chest. “Me too.”

“I know it's kind of childish, but when I was little our cook would make me warm milk after a shitty day, and it really did make me feel better. Would you like me to make you some?”

I could use exactly that kindness right now, even as my heart sighed at the thought of someone in his childhood actually being kind to him. “Warm milk sounds great. I'd like to take a shower first though.”

“Okay. There are towels in the closet in the bathroom.”

“Thanks for tonight: for being there when I needed you and for letting me stay here.”

He said nothing for a moment, only stared with a tender look on his face. He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I think we've already established that I'd do anything for you.”

After detouring into the bedroom for my pajamas, I headed to the bathroom. There was a stack of soft towels in the linen closet in deep gray, green, blue and even plum, piled by color. I couldn't help the smile, because who would have thought the Bastian most knew was a bit of a neat freak. I grabbed a towel and placed it on the counter of the sink. I couldn't stop myself from touching his toothbrush, his razor and again I noticed how neat he was. There were no toothpaste splotches in the sink and no water splattered on the glass.

Turning on the shower, I waited for the temperature to get just right before stripping out of my clothes. As soon as the warm water sluiced over me, I felt worlds better. What a way to enter into my eighteenth year. I felt disgust for my aunt, but I felt really sorry for her too. Bastian had nailed it right on the head, she was pathetic.

Reaching for the bottle of shampoo, I couldn't help but think that there was something deeply intimate about using Bastian's shampoo and soap. The smell of his shampoo had me fantasizing about him being in the shower with me. I could almost feel his hands on my body, slick from the water, as he roamed over every inch of me. My eyes closed on a moan as I thought about his hard body pressed up against mine. The ache in response had me turning the water on cold, as cold I could stand it.

After my shower, I dried off before changing into my pajamas. I ran my fingers through my hair, reached for my clothes and dropped them in the hamper. I liked the thought of our clothes being washed together. Clearly, I was going mental.

Bastian was on the sofa staring at my painting when I entered. He turned at the sound of my approach and looked his fill. “That's a good look on you.”

Grinning, I settled next to him on the sofa. I pulled my legs up under me and cuddled up against his side. He handed me my mug and the scents of cinnamon and vanilla wafted up in the steam. I felt a bit melancholy—this was a first for me.

“What's wrong?” He asked softly.

“No one ever made me warm milk before.”

Something dark flashed in his eyes in response, but he said nothing.

I took a sip and savored not just the flavor, but the comfort of something so simple. The warm milk coupled with the heat emanating from Bastian's body made me very sleepy.

“Happy birthday, Lark.”

I looked at the clock and saw it was midnight.

“It'll be official in three minutes.”

We sat silently until the clock read 12:03. Bastian leaned closer and kissed me, so sweetly. I'd like to recant my previous statement. What an incredible way to ring in my eighteenth year.

We had school in the morning so, in unspoken agreement, we both stood. Bastian took my cup and disappeared into the kitchen while I lingered in the hallway leading to the bedrooms.

“I know you offered me the second bedroom when you moved in, but I didn't realize you had a bed set up in it already.”

He joined me in the hall. “I didn't. That's what took me so long to get to your uncle's house. Dom let me pull out a bed he had in storage and helped me set it up.” He touched my cheek and added, “As much as I want you in my bed with me, I didn't want you to feel you had to: that there was no other option.”

And just when I thought it wasn't possible to love this boy any more, I am proven wrong.

“I'm a very lucky girl.”

At my door, Bastian turned into me and lightly brushed his lips over mine. This was our first night together and I was eighteen, but we were both feeling a little off because of the events that led us here. I was still angry and so was Bastian. When we made love for the first time, I didn't want anything to taint the experience. One look at him and I knew he was thinking the same.

“I'll see you in the morning, Bastian.”

“Sweet dreams, beautiful.”

Closing the door quietly behind me, I headed to the bed. It was a very comfortable bed, but I laid there as the minutes ticked by because I couldn't seem to slip into sleep. I knew exactly why I wasn't falling asleep. This wasn't where I wanted to be. I may not want to have sex tonight, but I did want to feel Bastian next me. Climbing from bed, I moved across the hall before knocking lightly on his door.

When I entered, he was just flicking on his light: an action that made visible his dragon.

“What's wrong?”

“I really appreciate you and Dom setting up a room for me, but I want to sleep here with you.”

His eyes held mine as he pulled back the covers. It was all the invitation I needed. I slid in next to him as he pulled the covers up and shut off the light. Our bodies were pressed together from chest to thigh, my head resting on his shoulder. He held me so closely as if he never intended on letting me go.

“Better?” I heard him whisper.

“Perfect.”