Текст книги "Charade"

Автор книги: Nyrae Dawn

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~CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE~

Colt

I’m sitting in the passenger seat of Cheyenne’s car messing with the stereo. It’s the first day I’ve seen her since her mom’s service and I’m really fucking hoping we’re not going to have this huge ass conversation like girls like to have. Yeah she stayed and yeah we didn’t have sex. We both know what happened—or that nothing happened. The end.

              “You have shitty music,” I tell her. When I resort to the radio, you know my options are limited.

              She shrugs. “I’m not all that into music.”

              This surprises me. “You dance.”

              “Yeah and I listen to music for dancing. When music is on I’m thinking about my body and how to move and it makes me want to do more than just sit around.”

              I look at her and grin. “I’m thinking about your body and how it moves too.”

              She quickly glances at me. “I’m kind of impossible not to think about.”

              I laugh because it’s true and she’s probably the only woman I know who would have the balls to say it.

              “Or touch.” I reach over and slide my hand up her leg. Unfortunately she’s wearing jeans, but I let my hand creep higher.

              “You’re distracting me.”

              “That’s the point.” I never expected to have fun with her like this. I don’t have fun with anyone like this, but just like it’s hard not to think about her body, it’s hard not to enjoy her too. Yeah she pisses me off, but that kind of makes it better.

              And then because we’re almost to the party and it’s only been a few days since she buried her mom, I ask. “You sure you’re cool with going out?”

              Again she looks over at me. I can’t see her real well because it’s dark, but I know her eyes are on me. “Why Colt, one would think you’re a nice guy.”

              Her comment annoys me a little. Not because I think I’m this nice guy, but because she’s always deflecting shit. She’s had a lot go down lately. I’ve seen her when she breaks and know she’s not doing as well as she wants people to think. Or maybe as good as she thinks.

              But fuck. That’s what I’m supposed to be. A distraction. I knew that going into it and know it now so I don’t know what the hell my problem is with it. Maybe it’s because I’m in the same boat.

              “We both know I’m not a nice guy. And we both know there’s a lot of shit in your head too. That’s why I’m asking. If you don’t want to answer, tell me you don’t. Don’t play me.”

              “I don’t want to answer.” We’re quiet for a few minutes. I’m feeling way more pissed than I have a right to be. Finally she speaks. “It’s hard. I’m trying to deal. Distractions help. Fun helps. You…help.” The last part I can tell she didn’t want to say.

              Did I want to hear it? I don’t know. “Good.”

              “How’s your mom?”

              Fuck. Why did I start this? I just gave her shit so it’s not like I can’t answer her now. “The same…how else? There’s nowhere to go, but down.”

              “You never—”

              “You saw her, Chey. There’s no hope. She stopped treatment. Hospice has been involved. We both know what’s going to happen.” The words hurt coming out. I want to close my mouth. Trap them in, but it won’t make things any different.

              Now it’s her hand that’s on my leg. “So…tonight… When we get home… Do you wanna?” There’s laughter in her voice.

              “Fuck yeah I wanna.”

              We pull up at the house for the party. It’s out of the way and on property and I can see the bonfire out back already.

              I’m about to open the door when Chey asks, “What’s the deal with you and Gregory?”

              I hit the interior light. “He’s a prick?”

              “Nice try.”

              I shrug. “That’s basically it. I fucking hate guys like him. Thinks he can get away with whatever he wants. We were out one night and we caught him fucking around with this kid. It was bullshit frat stuff, but they had the kid shitting his pants he was so scared. Him and his friends were making him go in and steal something. They threatened him. We kicked his ass. He didn’t like having his ass kicked and I liked doing it.”

              When my eyes hit hers she has that lost girl look. No, not the lost look, but the one that says she’s thinking all sorts of things women don’t usually think when looking at me. “Don’t do that. It’s not a big deal,” I say.

              She gets a huge smile on her face. A cocky one that says I’m not going to like what she says.

              “Don’t worry, Colt. I won’t tell anyone that you’re really quite noble.”

              She gets out of the car and slams the door, giving me no choice but to get out with her.

***

              We’re sitting around a big ass fire, beer in hand. There’s about forty people out here. More in the house. None of Cheyenne’s pretty boys, so it’s more kickback than the frat parties on campus.

              She’s sitting on my lap, my arm wrapped round her waist. Adrian’s sitting next to me with whatever girl he’s boning this week. He keeps giving me that look like he did in the kitchen that night. Like he knows or feels something else going on than is really here.

              “Shut the fuck up,” I say when he winks at me.

              “Huh?” Cheyenne asks.

              “Nothing.” I bite her shoulder softly instead of playing Adrian’s game.

              “Ah, so you’re the new flavor of the week. He’s good, isn’t he?” I look up to see Deena standing in front of us. I really didn’t want to do this shit and hoped she wasn’t here. I know she doesn’t want me. She just wanted to screw around like I did, but I also know she’s the kind of girl who wants to be on top. Who wants to show everyone she doesn’t give a shit and that she’s going to use Cheyenne to do it.

              “Who are—” Cheyenne says at the same time I say, “Deena.”

              I feel Chey tense, but she doesn’t move off my lap.

              “Stop playing games, D. No one wants to hear it.”

              Adrian laughs beside me.

              “She can’t speak for herself?” Deena adds.

              I know this can’t end well. Deena’s not one to back down and Cheyenne doesn’t take people’s shit.

              “Actually she can,” Chey says. “And maybe you were only around for a week, but I’ve been here longer than that. It doesn’t look like I’m going anywhere anytime soon, either.”

              I see the shock register on Deena’s face. She didn’t expect Cheyenne to fight back. She looks like the tiny dancer she is. Looks like the princess I’ve accused her of being. That’s what Deena expected.

              “Good for you.” Deena grasps for something to say, but just stands there.

              “Did you need something else? We’re a little busy here.”

              “Bitch,” Deena mumbles before walking away.

I bury my face in Cheyenne’s hair knowing I’ll probably regret this later, but my buzz doesn’t seem to care. “You want to stick around, huh?”

Cheyenne laughs and says. “Well, you have your uses. She was right. You are pretty good and I like your mouth.”

She turns on my lap, straddling me. Her arms go around my neck and her lips find mine. I’m scared as hell I might want her to stick around too.

***

              Adrian nudges my shoulder a while later.

              “What’s up lover boy?”

              “Fuck off,” I tell him. I rip my eyes away from Cheyenne as she talks to her roommate on the other side of the fire. Why the hell I’m standing here and watching her, I don’t know.

              “You’re different.” Adrian takes a pull from his cigarette.

              “Why do you do that? Want to read my palm too?”

              He puts the cigarette out and pushes it into a beer can. “I’m not psychic and don’t think I am. I just pay attention to shit. I’m not afraid to say it either. You act like an asshole and I tell it how it is.” He shrugs and walks away.

              I push every thought out of my head and get back to watching my Tiny Dancer.

~CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR~

Cheyenne

              I wake up naked and in Colt’s arms. It’s becoming a habit—a planned one, but one all the same. His hand is latched onto my breast like it always is. I think he’d surgically attach it if he could. I don’t get guys and their obsession with boobs. Not that I have huge ones, but I still struggle with guys talking to my chest instead of my face.

              Colt moves behind me and I can tell by the change in his breathing that he’s waking up. He shifts, his hand tightens and I know he’s really awake.

              “Even in your sleep all you think about is sex,” I tease.

              “Can you blame me? I’m good at it,” he nudges a knee between my legs. I moan it feels so good, but I have stuff I need to do. Plus, I’m not sure if we’re supposed to do the morning after thing. We usually don’t. I always leave.

              “I can’t.” I jump out of the bed before he can change my mind. He looks all rumpled and sexy and I want nothing more than to climb back into bed with the jerk.

              “I’ll be right back.” I pull on his shirt and a pair of shorts before heading to the bathroom. I see bodies lying in the living room. This place is always packed with people. I know it’s Adrian and not Colt, but it still gets frustrating.

              I go to the bathroom and then brush my teeth with the toothbrush I hid here. When I head back into the room, Colt looks like he’s already passed out again. The guy can sleep more than anyone I know. His school schedule isn’t full time, but I wonder sometimes if he ever goes.

              “I should go… I have homework to do.” I grab my bag so I can get into my own clothes. I probably should have done that from the beginning, but there’s something hot about wearing a guy’s clothes that makes a girl feel sexy… Loved. Not that I want to be loved by him or anyone else, but still.

              Colt opens his eyes. He shrugs like what’s he’s about to say isn’t a big deal, but the nerves in my stomach tell me it is.

              “So do it here. I have some to do too.”

              Something happens inside my chest. I’ve been really good at keeping him at arm’s length so far. We’re nothing alike. I think he hates me half the time and we don’t belong together. We’re a means to an end, but with his simple request, I begin to soften inside. It’s that stupid girl heart-pounding, hearts-floating-by-my-head thing. Where the guy who fights so hard to keep the distance, does something so small, it’s huge. I can’t help but let it inside. Let it mean something.

              I should leave. Run right now because Colt and I wouldn’t work. It wouldn’t be like it was with Gregory. He could really hurt me—not just ding my pride.

              “Don’t. You’re looking at me funny. Don’t do that, Tiny Dancer.” His voice isn’t angry at all. It almost sounds confused. “It’s just homework. I had my mouth on you…I was inside you last night. Don’t make a big deal out of nothing.”

              I roll my eyes, trying to play it off. “I didn’t do anything. Sounds like you’re the one making it a big deal. Do you want me to fall for you, Colt?” I want to tease him and call him Colton like his mom does, but any kind of joking that has to do with her doesn’t feel right.

              He doesn’t answer my question, but says, “Is your stuff in your car?”

              “Yeah. I’ll run and get it.”

              Colt shakes his head. “I’ll go. I’m sure the house is packed with passed-out assholes.”

              Again my insides soften to him. Another simple gesture, but again something really sweet.

              Sitting on the bed, I take in the view while Colt gets dressed. I can tell he knows I’m watching, but I also know he’s cocky enough to get off on it. He only slips on a pair of sweats and no shirt before he disappears. He’s gone for about five minutes so I assume he went to clean up too. When he gets back in the room, Colt closes the door and tosses me my backpack.

              “Do you need the computer?” he asks.

              Computer? I didn’t even know he had one. “No. I have to write a paper, but I have to do first drafts with pen and paper.”

              “You’re fucking crazy.” He winks as he speaks, then grabs a set of keys and unlocks a box in the closet, before pulling out a laptop.

              “You lock up your computer.”

              “You’ve seen the parties here, right?”

              I don’t know why, but that makes me laugh. Colt shakes his head at me as I continue to giggle, but he’s smiling too.

              “That’s crazy,” I say between laughs.

              “I thought we just decided you were crazy.” Then he adds, “Seriously though. You never know what people will do when they’re fucked up. I’m cool with most of the people who party here but alcohol and drugs make people do stupid shit.”

              This makes me freeze. Loud music, Mom gone. I’ll help you find your mama.

              A shudder takes me over.

              “Hey. What’s wrong?” Colt reaches over and twirls a lock of my hair around his finger. It’s so sweet, so normal that I want to lean into him for support. To tell him everything I didn’t tell Gregory in years of going out with him.

              I want him to protect me like he’s done so often, but that freaks me out too. I can’t risk needing anyone…but I almost feel like I need him.

              “Nothing. Just a chill.”

              He’s had to pick me up too many times. That’s not what we’re supposed to be about and whatever this thing is between us, I don’t want it to end.

              “A chill my ass.” But he doesn’t call me on it, only turns on his laptop and gets to work. I do the same. We work in silence for a good hour, but I’m so aware of him. Of how he smells like man and fabric softener. It’s funny because his clothes are wrinkled half the time and he doesn’t care what he wears, but he always smells so…clean.

              I look over at him, his forehead creased as he reads something on the screen and I think about how comfortable this is. How easy and normal and I can’t remember if I ever felt this way with Gregory. Actually I know I didn’t.

              This is a game. Our game. One that I asked for, but with each day it feels more real. More real than anything ever has and I’m not sure how I feel about that. What to do. I shouldn’t fall for this guy. He’s got so much on his plate and he’s not the kind of guy to really fall for someone. Gregory was and look how that turned out?

              I turn back to my paper.

              But I do. I think I like him and part of me wants to like him while the other thinks I should stuff everything in my backpack and never come back.

              When you like someone you trust them and I’ve never trusted anyone in my whole life. How can I pick Colt?

              Something jabs me in the side and I jump. “Holy shit.” I look at Colt who has a pencil in his hand, close to my back. “You scared the crap out of me.”

              “Where the hell were you? You sure as shit weren’t here.” He’s grinning. I love that grin so much. It’s so boy-ish. Such a contradiction to his dirty mouth and bad attitude.

              “I was so lost in thought about you that I couldn’t handle it. I mean, I’m sitting here with Colt. How can I not feel totally enamored?”

              He looks at me almost confused for a second before saying, “It’s about time you realized that.”

              And then his laptop is gone and my books and notebook shoved to the floor and Colt’s on me.

              My clothes are gone in no time and then his.  His mouth is on mine and he’s fumbling with a condom. His tongue moves to the peak of my breast and I cry out before he pushes inside.

              It’s not because of how I feel right now or how well we move together. It’s about him. Us. I know that it’s no longer just an empty thought. It’s the truth.

              I’m falling for Colt.

***

              Colt’s sitting in the car with me as we head to the coffee house. I’m in major need of caffeine and even though I know he doesn’t drink coffee and I’m going back to my dorm after this, he insisted on going with me.

              His phone goes off for what feels like the millionth time and I realize what’s happening. He’s meeting someone to sell them weed. It had nothing to do with me.

              Anger simmers beneath my skin. I don’t think I have the right, but I hate seeing him do this. Know he doesn’t want to, but then I think about his mom and know some of the money goes to help her.

              Can I really blame him?

              We pull up in front and I turn off the car, look at him and without thinking say, “I can help.”

              Colt pushes his cell into his pocket. “Help with what?”

              “Money.” I shrug. “Whatever you need.”

              Colt groans and drops his head back. “I don’t need you to save me, Princess.”

              The name hurts. I don’t want to be his princess. That’s the name he called the girl he hated.

              “Fuck you, Colt.” I reach for the door handle, but he touches my other arm.

              “I’m not trying to be an asshole.”

              “Then don’t,” I throw back at him.

              “I can handle it.”

              I sigh and touch his hand on my arm. Thread our fingers together half expecting him to pull away or me to pull away, but neither of us do.

              “I hate that you have to.”

              He sighs, his answer surprising me. “Just like I hate the fucking demons you have locked inside you that you won’t tell me about. The ones you only let out when you can’t control it and you panic. We can’t always control what we don’t like, Tiny Dancer.”

              That name makes me exhale a breath. “But I can do something to help you.” And don’t you know you already help me?

              Colt flinches. “She hardly gets enough to take care of what she needs. If she’s in a lot of pain, she runs out. She’s dying, Cheyenne and if she wants to run the air conditioner every day all summer because she’s hot or if one of the only times she can eat she craves lobster and filet mignon, I want her to have it. She wants nothing but for me to be in that stupid fucking school and I don’t always get all the money I need. It’s not like I’m doing it because I want to. I fucking hate the shit. My dad sold drugs. Her mom was a crackhead. Do you think I want to feed that shitty habit?”

              My heart breaks for him—calls to him. I want to open it up and lock him inside.

              But then, he can get a job too. Selling weed isn’t the only way to make money.

I know what it is, know he doesn’t expect to be any more than he is, than his dad was, so he plays the part. Following the path he thinks is set for him. “You’re better than that.”

              And before he can get frustrated or before he can storm off, I crawl to his lap and kiss him. My hand slides through his messy hair and he grips my sides so tight it’s like he’s afraid I’ll slip away.

              “You’re not a princess.” He leans his forehead against mine.

              Those words do more for me than I want to admit.

              His cell goes off again. “I gotta go, baby.”

              Colt’s hand slides down my face and he kisses me quickly. I sigh, but climb off him and we each get out of the car. Colt walks over, hand on my hip like always and kisses me again. “You are so fucking hot.”

              A wink. And then he’s gone.

              Andy walks over to me. I didn’t even see where she came from.

              “It’s pretty sad when the only time I see my roommate is when I run into her at a party or the coffee house.”

              I shrug.

              “You should see the way he watches you. Didn’t take his eyes off you the whole time we talked at the party. It’s cute. He’s hot. We should double date sometime.”

              Her words make me sad and I keep watching Colt as he gets farther and farther away. “It’s not real. It’s a game.”

              “It looks real to me,” Andy replies. “Maybe you don’t see it or don’t want to, but it’s real. Looks to me like you finally found your person to be real with. Maybe sometime you’ll let me in too.”

              Just like Colt, she walks away from me.

              Scary as it is, I hope she’s right about Colt. Maybe even about her too.