Текст книги "Aflame"

Автор книги: Penelope Douglas

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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

Chapter 3

Tate

Summer breaks no longer exist once you reach college. Maybe you start taking a summer class, or you pick up a summer job, or you have a reading list or an extra credit to pick up, but free time slowly starts to ebb away, and before you know it, you’re doing one thing a day that you like and fifteen that you hate.

Welcome to adulthood, my father would say.

I should be grateful. All in all it wasn’t so bad. Opportunity abounded in my life, and anyone else would be gracious and appreciative. My education would secure my future.

I had it made. I’d be a doctor someday. Maybe close to home. Maybe far away. I’d undoubtedly marry and have children. The house and car payments would come. The stock portfolios to ensure a comfortable retirement. Maybe I’d have a time-share in the Bahamas. I’d laugh at my children’s school plays and hug them when they were scared.

My patients would hopefully bring a feeling of worth into my life. I would help some and lose others. I was prepared for that. I would comfort many and cry with a few. I would take everything in stride and with the knowledge that I did my very best.

My professional life would be devoted to curing illnesses. My private life would be the dutiful spouse and mother.

Patients and patience.

And up until two years ago, I was excited for all of it.

I had wanted all of it.

“There you are.” Ben took my hand, brushing a kiss on my cheek. “They’ve been paging you for five minutes.”

I smiled, placing a hand on his chest and leaning in. “Sorry,” I whispered, kissing him again, gently on the lips this time. “I couldn’t exactly drop the bedpan, could I?” I joked, pulling back and setting my charts down at the nurse’s station.

The corners of his bottom lip turned down at the disgusting thought. “Good point,” he acquiesced. “Besides,” I continued, “I’m a woman worth waiting for. You know that.”

He lifted his chin and hooded his blue eyes. “I’m still deciding,” he taunted.

“Ouch.” I laughed. “Maybe Jax was right after all then.”

His face fell, the humor gone. “What did that guy say about me now?” he grumbled.

I grinned, pulling my blue scrub shirt over my head, leaving me in my white tank top. “He said that you’re awesome,” I teased.

Ben cocked an eyebrow, knowing better.

Jax, my ex-boyfriend’s brother, didn’t like anyone that tried to take his brother’s place in my life. Good thing I didn’t need his approval.

I shrugged and kept going. “But he does think that I am far too much for you to handle.”

His eyes bugged out, and he smiled, challenge accepted. Sliding his hand around the back of my neck, he stepped up and crashed his lips down on mine.

The warmth of his body surrounded me, and I relaxed into the kiss, savoring the hunger I felt rolling off of him.

He wanted me.

I might not be reeling from need of him, but he made me feel in control, and I definitely liked that.

Pulling away, he smiled like he’d just proved a point.

I licked my lips, tasting his Spearmint gum. Ben always had a flavor and taste I could pin down. Mint or cinnamon on the lips, cologne on the clothes, Paul Mitchell in the hair . . . and it occurred to me that I didn’t really know what he smelled like without all of that. Cologne preferences change over time. So do shampoos and breath mints. What would he smell like on my pillow? Would it change or always be constant?

He gestured to the black container and package of wooden chopsticks on top of the counter. “I brought you dinner. It’s sushi,” he pointed out. “Salmon is supposed to be, like, some super brain food.” He waved a hand in front of us. “And you’ve been burning the midnight oil, so I thought you could use it.”

“Thank you.” I tried to act excited, knowing it was the thought that counted. I hated sushi, but he didn’t know that. “But I’m actually about to get off work. I thought I told you that.”

He narrowed his eyes, thinking, and then they went wide. “Yes, you did.” He let out a breath and shook his head. “I’m sorry. Your schedule changes so much, I forgot.”

“It’s okay.” I unwrapped my messy bun, feeling instant relief as the cursed bobby pins were removed. When I wasn’t working at the hospital—giving sponge baths and administering Band-Aids—I was at the library getting ahead on my reading list for my fall classes, or at the Loop, blowing off steam. I was a hard girl to pin down lately, but Ben rolled with it.

“I can still eat it,” I offered, not wanting to be ungracious. “And now I don’t need to worry about dinner, so you see? You really are a lifesaver.”

He grabbed hold of my waist and pulled me in, kissing my forehead and nose, always gentle.

Ben and I had been seeing each other for about six weeks, although most of that time was long-distance. During spring break, we were both home, and one day I’d lost control of my car on a rainy, slick road.

And I’d slammed right into his car. As it was parked at a curb right in front of him and all of his friends. Yeah, great moment.

But I played it off. Got out of the car barking at him about his lousy driving and that he better have good insurance or I was calling the cops.

Everyone laughed, and he asked me out.

We spent some time together, went back to school to finish the semester, and reconnected when we came home for summer break.

Since we’d gone to high school together and actually had a date senior year that ended pretty badly, it was kind of fun to catch up after so much time had passed. We got to know each other, and I enjoyed the time we spent together. It wasn’t pedal to the metal from day one. Ben was slow.

And calm.

It was always when I was ready. Not when he was ready.

And I was nowhere near ready yet, so that was a relief.

And the best part? He wasn’t intense. He didn’t get angry or rude. He didn’t have problems that would make me unhappy, and I didn’t have to worry that he would have so much of a pull on me that I would make decisions based on him.

He never pushed or challenged me, and I liked that I dominated the relationship. I never took advantage of it, but I knew I was the one in control. It was comfortable, but more than that, it was easy. I was never surprised with Ben.

He was safe.

He’d finished his bachelor’s degree in economics at UMass in May and would be going on to graduate school at Princeton in the fall. I’d be heading to Stanford for medical school, so we were looking at more time apart. I wasn’t sure if the relationship would continue, but right now, I was content to keep things light and easy.

He’d already hinted to me that I should move to New Jersey with him and apply to medical school there or somewhere at least in the vicinity. I’d said no. I’d compromised my college plans once—for a good reason—but I was sticking to the plan this time. Come hell or high water, I was going to California.

“Will you be at my race tonight?” I asked softly.

“Aren’t I always?” he answered, and I knew there was a sigh that he’d held back.

Ben hated that I raced. He said he hated the crowd, but I knew it was more than that. He didn’t want the girl he was dating racing the boys while he sat on the sidelines.

But even though I liked Ben, I wasn’t quitting the Loop, either.

Wisely, he never asked me to stop—just suggested—and I expected that he thought it was something I would grow out of or give up when I went off to Stanford.

But I wouldn’t stop for anyone or anything. I wouldn’t stop until I was ready.

Madoc whined about my safety, my father chided me about the car costs when I needed parts or repairs, and at least a dozen assholes made snide remarks when I climbed into my car every weekend to race against them.

But none of it made a difference. That’s the beauty of knowing your own mind. No one tells you what you can and can’t do. Once you’re sure of something, it really is that easy.

“I’ll meet you at the track, then.” I circled his neck and leaned in for a kiss, his gentle lips leaving a feathery kiss on mine. “I need to shower and clean up after I leave here.”

He leaned over, nuzzling my ear. “And then after the race, you’re mine, right?”

I could hear the playfulness in his voice, but my heart still skipped a beat anyway.

Mine.

A shiver ran down my arms, and I closed my eyes, feeling a hot mouth move across my cheek and then his breath glide over my lips.

I want to feel what’s mine. What’s always been mine.

Heat fanned across my face, and need gripped me low in my stomach. His lips brushed mine, never taking, just teasing, and I inhaled a shaky breath as excitement burned under my skin after so long.

It wasn’t Ben.

It wasn’t his lips or his breath that I dreamed about.

I want to touch you.

I pushed up on my tiptoes, pressing my body into his and pulling him close. Jared.

And just like that, I melted at his memory.

“It’s too late to beg,” Jared whispers as his hand threads through the back of my hair, gripping it tight as he pins me against the wall of the janitor’s closet. “This is what you get when you eye-fuck me in the middle of class.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and squirm as he pushes his hand inside the front of my jeans and dips his fingers inside me, bringing the wetness back out to swirl around my clit.

“Oh, God,” I whimper, my breath shaking as I clutch his shoulders. “Jared.”

He leans in, and I can feel his breath hot across my lips. “I want you naked, Tate,” he commands. “Everything off. Now.”

I brushed my nose against his neck, smelling Ben’s exotic cologne instead of Jared’s woodsy body wash with that hint of spice I still remembered.

I lowered myself back down to my feet, releasing Ben.

Dammit.

Why did the memory of him get me more excited than anyone else could in the flesh? Ben treated me better. His easy demeanor was no threat to me. There were no expectations, and the conversation was safe.

But old habits die hard.

I craved dirty words and rough hands, possessiveness and everything that wasn’t Ben’s style. I missed being the breath in someone’s body and being craved like water.

It was dangerous, but that was young love, and once I had been nearly consumed with it.

“You okay?” Ben asked, looking concerned.

I gave him a casual smile. “I’m fine,” I assured him, leaning in for a quick kiss. I might not feel the fireworks with Ben that I wanted yet, but there was no rush. Never any pressure.

I pulled back to say good-bye, but he dove in for another quick peck on the lips before walking back down the hallway, leaving me smiling at his easy attitude.

After logging out on the computer, I jogged to the locker room for my backpack and keys, dumping my scrub shirt in the laundry basket which left me in my super-stylish matching blue pants.

The wind was calling, and I couldn’t wait to get outside. I could already feel the chills of anticipation running through my body.

I sent a mass text to Madoc, Fallon, Juliet, and Jax, letting them know I’d be skipping dinner to tweak a few last things on my G8 before the race tonight. I’d meet them at the track.

As soon as I walked through the automatic doors, I broke into a run and couldn’t help the laughter that escaped. I’m sure I looked ridiculous, giggling like a child.

But I loved my damn car. It was fast and hot and all mine.

I’d owned my Pontiac G8 since my senior year of high school, and I would admit it only to myself, but it owned more of my heart than Ben did right now. Driving was like a drug. Climb in, sit down, shut up, and hold on. It was the only time in my life when I felt like I was moving but also didn’t need to work to accomplish anything. I was going places but not really getting anywhere. For hours on end, I’d drive and listen to music—lost in my own head—but I always seemed to find myself, too. My shower used to be the one place I’d escape to. Now it was my car.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, I threw my backpack—loaded with some books and a change of clothes—onto the passenger seat and set down the sushi I was probably going to give to Madoc. I started the car, rolling down the windows and jamming up the music. Saliva’s “Click Click Boom” raged out of the speakers, vibrating off my body, and I inhaled the sweet, early evening summer air. It was a little after five, but the sun still shone bright in the sky, and the warm breeze blew through the windows, tickling my hair.

I tightened my hands around the leather wheel, cruising down the two lane highway well over the speed limit and feeling so much more alive behind the wheel than I did anywhere else. This was the one thing I did with my time that I loved.

It wasn’t always like that. Two years ago I was connected to everything, each day built the foundation for a tomorrow I couldn’t wait to jump into. But now . . .

Now I couldn’t help the fear that crept in when I thought about what would happen when I finally got to tomorrow. When I was done with school, when I was a doctor, when I achieved the future I’d worked for . . . what then?

For some reason, driving—racing—kept me connected. Connected to a time when my blood ran hot under my skin and my heart craved more life.

Always more.

Sticking my arm out the window, I smiled at the gush of wind pushing against it as the air blew between my fingers. Cranking up the volume, I inhaled an excited breath as my stomach dropped with the increased speed. I loved those butterflies.

I got back to the house quickly, even though the last thing I wanted to do was get out of my car. But I reminded myself that the wind was waiting for me later on tonight, and it would all be good when I was on the track.

I had a lot of work to do before I left, though, so I parked the car along the side of Madoc’s house and grabbed my phone off the seat, instantly feeling it vibrate in my hand.

Peering down, I saw Juliet’s name. “Hey,” I answered. “Did you get my text?”

“Did you get mine?” she burst out, sounding excited.

I narrowed my eyes in confusion as I climbed out of the car. “No, but I saw you called.” I swung my backpack over my shoulder and slammed the door shut. “I just got off work, so I haven’t checked my messages yet. What’s up?”

I rounded the stone staircase, jogging up the steps to my private entrance. Jared and I used to keep a room here, and I still used it from time to time. Madoc and Fallon were like family, and I’d needed a place to escape to while the entire downstairs of my house was being repainted.

“Where are you?” she asked, and I could hear her excited breathing.

“I just got home.” I unlocked the door and dropped my backpack inside, switching the phone to the other ear.

“At Madoc’s?” she rushed out.

I nearly laughed at her urgency. “Alright, spit it out. Is something wrong? Did Katherine go into labor or something?”

“No,” she shot back. “I . . . I just need you to stop and listen to me, okay?”

I groaned. “Please tell me Jax didn’t hack into Ben’s Facebook and flood it with gay porn again,” I said, kicking off my shoes and walking toward the private bathroom.

“No, Jax didn’t do anything,” she answered, but then continued. “Well, he kind of did. We all did. I should’ve told you, and I’m sorry,” she rambled, “but I didn’t know he was going straight to Madoc’s, and I didn’t want you to be ambushed, so—”

“What is going on?!” I shouted, pushing open the bathroom door.

“Jared is at Madoc’s house!” she finally cried out.

But it was too late.

I’d already halted.

A lump stretched my throat as I stood there, locking my eyes with his dark ones staring at me through the bathroom mirror, her warning coming a second too late.

Jared.

“Tate, did you hear me?” she yelled, but I couldn’t answer her.

I tightened my fist around the doorknob and glued my teeth together so hard my jaw ached.

He stood at the mirror, with his back to me, and every muscle in his naked arms and torso was steel-rod tight as he leaned down on his hands and held me with a hard stare.

He didn’t seem surprised to see me. And he definitely didn’t look happy.

I inhaled short, shallow breaths. What the hell was he doing here?

“Tate!” I heard someone shout, but all I could do was watch as he straightened and picked his watch up off the counter, fastening it to his wrist as he held my eyes the entire time.

So calm. So cold.

It was like a razor cutting through my heart as I resisted a need to rush him. Maybe to hit him or maybe to fuck him, but whatever it was I was going to hurt him. I cemented every muscle in my body to keep myself in check.

He wore fitted black pants that hung low on his waist, his feet and torso were bare, and his hair was chaos, like he’d just towel dried it.

Our childhood tree filled his back in a stunning black tattoo, and I looked over his shoulder and arms to notice a few new ones.

My stomach shook, and I tightened my abs to resist it.

It had been so long.

His black clothes, his black moods, his nearly black eyes . . . My heart pounded like a drum, and I gritted my teeth, feeling my core tighten.

He looked exactly like he had in high school. Gone was any trace of his ROTC days in college. He was a little more muscular, with more angle to his jawline, but it was four years ago all over again.

I tipped my chin up, seeing him grab his belt off the counter and turn around, walking toward me.

“Tate?” Juliet pressed in my ear. “Tate, did you hear me? Hello?”

He stepped up to me slowly, threading his belt through the loops, and my chest was on fire. My heart couldn’t possibly beat any faster, and I hardened my eyes and expression as he stopped a few inches in front of me and hovered.

“Tate,” Juliet yelled, “I said that Jared is at Madoc’s!”

And the corner of Jared’s lips tilted in a smile, telling me he’d heard her futile warning.

“Yes,” I answered, clearing my throat as I glared up at him. “Thanks for the heads up,” I told her.

And I brought the phone away from my ear and clicked End Call.

His arms worked, fastening his belt, but he didn’t break eye contact. Neither did I. This was natural for Jared. Hover, make me cower in his shadow, threaten with just his presence . . . but it was all in vain.

Because that’s just how well I knew myself now. No one dominated me.

I kept my voice calm, trying to sound bored. “There are about twenty other rooms in this house,” I pointed out. “Find one.”

His eyes turned from threatening to amused, and it was the exact same look I got in the lunch room the first day of senior year in high school when I’d decided to fight back. Jared always got a rush out of challenging me.

“You know,” he started, reaching behind the bathroom door and pulling out a white T-shirt. “I smelled you as soon as I stepped foot into the room. Your scent was everywhere,” his velvety voice sent chills over my skin as he continued, “and I thought maybe it was just leftovers from our time here, but then I noticed all your shit.” He gestured to the beauty products on the bathroom counter and then threaded his arms into his short sleeves and pulled the shirt over his head.

So he’d come here not knowing he’d find me. At least he wasn’t planning anything, then.

He patted his pants pocket and cocked his head, smirking. “I hope you don’t mind, but I borrowed a few of your condoms.”

My hand suddenly ached, and I realized I’d been squeezing the doorknob this whole time. I didn’t know if I was angry that he was referring to my sex life or insinuating plans about his own, but the asshole hadn’t changed. He was waiting for me to react.

The condoms were leftovers from a year and a half ago, the last time I had sex. They were probably expired anyway.

“By all means.” I plastered a tight smile on my face. “Now, if you don’t mind . . .” I cleared the doorway, waving my arm wide and inviting him to get the hell out.

A million questions raged through my head. Why was he here? At this house? In my room? Where was his little entourage I’d seen him with on TV and YouTube when I’d given in on lonely nights and Googled him?

But then I reminded myself that Jared Trent wasn’t a part of my life anymore. I didn’t need to care about him.

He brushed past me, grazing my arm, and I started breathing through my mouth, because the smell of his body wash messed with my nerves. With my memories and a time when I was completely his.

I couldn’t stand here with him. Not in this room.

I’d never let Ben stay the night when I crashed here, and no one knew, but Jared’s and my homecoming photo still sat in its frame, hidden in the dresser drawer. Along with my charm bracelet he’d given me senior year. I’d wanted it out of my house but not gone. Not yet.

This room had played a crucial part early on in our relationship. It was the first space, away from our parents, that was ours—where we could do what we wanted and act the way we chose. To wake up next to each other, to shower together, to make love without fear of who would hear us, to stay up all night talking or watching movies . . . Whether it was the bed, the floor, the shower, the wall, or the bathroom fucking counter, every surface had a memory of him attached to it.

I still couldn’t face the fact that I loved being in here, and what’s more, I couldn’t face the fact that I had never let Ben—or anyone else—stay in here.

It didn’t matter, though. It was my room, and I didn’t need to explain anything.

I crossed my arms over my chest and watched him clip his wallet chain to his pants and tuck his wallet into his pocket. I glanced over, seeing his duffel on the bed, a few clothes—all black, gray, or white—strewn about.

“Make sure you take everything with you when you leave,” I ordered, sliding off my socks and tossing them into the hamper by the door. “This is my room now.”

“Absolutely,” he said smoothly, and then finished in a hard voice, “Tatum.”

I straightened, suddenly feeling the first spark of excitement under my skin—outside of racing, anyway—in a long time. I hated being called “Tatum,” and he knew it.

We were back there again.

I looked over at him, tilting my mouth into a smile. “Tatum?” I repeated. “Those are tactics you come home armed with?” I asked.

He turned his head, eyeing me over his shoulder with a stern expression.

I laughed. “The players might be the same, Jared,” I said, untying my scrub pants and letting them fall down my leg, “but the game has changed,” I warned.

His deep brown eyes flared just slightly as his gaze swept down the long legs that he used to love and back up to my lacy, white underwear.

I turned to step into the bathroom, but I stopped to regard him over my shoulder. “This isn’t high school,” I said, eyeing him playfully. “You’re way out of your depth.”

And then I slammed the bathroom door, cutting off his view.