Текст книги "Pulled Under"
Автор книги: Sarah Darlington
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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 14 страниц)
CHAPTER 16:
RHETT
I’d never been on an actual date before. Not one that had been premeditated and involved dinner. I’d had plenty of ‘hook ups,’ but this was something completely different. Sydney left my room, and I hurried to take a shower, scrubbing as fast as possible and then dressing even faster. I’d brought one dress shirt and a pair of khaki pants—so I wore that. Ten minutes later, I was knocking on her door.
“One minute,” she called from inside the room.
About three minutes later, she opened the door. She wore a long tropical dress that tied behind her neck, had her hair down now, and her cheeks were still a little flushed. She was so beautiful, so insanely beautiful, that I could do nothing but stand there staring at her for a moment.
“You look nice,” she muttered.
“You too,” I replied lamely, like a completely hopeless moron.
Then we both started heading down the hall in silence. It was a little awkward, but I think only because we were both nervous about this. About halfway down the hall, my confidence suddenly revived itself. I’m not sure what snapped, but something did. I grabbed her waist, squeezing her tight, and yanked her body in close against my side. She laughed and that seemed to ease the tension.
“Damn,” I whispered in her ear, praising her like I should have a minute ago. “I’ve never felt so lucky in my life. I’ve never been so hopeful about whatever tomorrow’s going to bring. I’ve never had a day better than this. You’ve got me by the balls, princess. And I mean that in the best possible way. I am yours. Period.”
Wow. That wasn’t the sort of confession I expected to come pouring out of me. I wasn’t much of a romantic, or good at being sentimental, but with her I could not stop myself.
“I like your balls,” she teased, biting down on her lip and glancing sideways at me to gauge my reaction.
“You would say something like that,” I grunted, and for revenge nipped playfully at her neck.
She shied away, laughing. “Sorry. I couldn’t help myself. Sometimes you say the most random things. But yeah, I know exactly what you mean.” Her laugher subsided and she snuggled in closer to my side. “Because I’m feeling all of that too.”
“Good. That’s what I like to hear.” I slapped her ass as she got onto the elevator. She shot me a threatening look as I followed, but I could tell she’d enjoyed that. That was what I loved about Sydney—she was refined and fun all at once. I could be me, one-hundred and ten percent, and she didn’t seem to mind.
The restaurant in the hotel was overpriced and trying too hard to be fancy, but also surprisingly packed. This led me to believe the food would be decent. There were a million and one restaurants in a big city like this, so a busy restaurant meant there had to be something good about it.
We sat at a booth close to the entrance. I might have opted for something more intimate, but that was all they had. The server came by and we ordered food rather quickly. Then with no menus in front of us, it was just us. I hardly knew where to start. There was so much about Sydney I didn’t know, and I just wanted to know everything.
“You don’t have a single tattoo,” I said to her, over the noise of the restaurant, starting the conversation.
“Neither do you,” she countered.
“I know. I don’t have any because there’s never been anything special enough that I wanted to put on my skin forever. But that’s not my point…you’re the one who wants to be the tattoo artist. Not me. Don’t the two usually go hand in hand?”
She shrugged. “I guess for some people. And maybe I would have a couple, but I’m such a baby when it comes to pain. Plus, it’s more about the art for me. I love creating different designs with my brother. I love helping him bring someone else’s idea to life. That’s why I want to do it. Going to school this year, I’ve missed all of that so much. I didn’t even realize that it was such a big part of my life until it was gone.”
She was very passionate as she spoke about it. I knew the feeling. That used to be baseball for me. “So do it. Although, I will warn you, you’re gonna have a line of ugly, hairy, old men out the door. All of them getting tattoos, not for the art, but because they want your hands on their sweaty bodies. I hope you’re prepared for that.”
The loudest, most genuine laugh left her lips. “You’re an ass.”
“Hey,” I said, putting my hands up. “Just being honest.”
“Well…I’ll let my brother have the hairy ones. While I take all the hot ones. Don’t worry about me, Rhett.”
I wasn’t worried about her. She could hold her own. For as sweet and as shy as this girl could be, I had no doubt in her ability to stand up for herself and chase after the things she wanted.
“So do it,” I repeated.
“It’s not that simple.”
“How so?”
“My parents. They might seem like the fun-loving, easy-going types, but they pretty much freaked the year my brother came home covered in tattoos and with that as his new career. It was so hypocritical too because my parents don’t even work. Well, my dad buys and sells real-estate for my grandfather, but that’s more like a hobby. Then my mom is your basic socialite. They party, they drink, they travel, and they have fun like there are no consequences in life. But for some reason, my brother’s career choice wasn’t good enough for them. I don’t know. It makes me nervous about choosing the same thing.”
“At least you know they eventually got over it with your brother, though, right?” I tried.
She thought on that for a second. “That’s true. But, either way, I still have time. I’ve got four years left of college before I have that sort of decision to make. The only thing it might affect now is what major I choose.”
Our food came right then. I’d been so engrossed in the conversation that I didn’t even noticed our server until he was practically setting a hot plate down on my arms. I sat back, letting him put the food in front of me. He eyed Sydney for a long moment, which was super annoying, but then he left us alone.
I picked up my fork, ready to dig in, but I quickly sat it back down to say one more thing to Sydney. “Well, whatever you want to do, no matter what becomes of this thing between us, know that I’ll always have your back. Those parents of yours try to disown you and kick you out of that big, fancy house or something to that effect—then you’ll always have a place to stay with me. And I don’t mean that in some twisted sex-for-rent sort of way. I mean that in a friend sort of way.”
These big tears welled up in my girl’s eyes. She said nothing and stared at me from across the table. I certainly hadn’t meant to make her cry. Although, any time I had seen her cry, those big green eyes of hers turned only greener and into such a force of nature. A force of nature that left me feeling like a giant wave had crashed down over my head. It was disorienting and numbing all at once.
“So we’re friends,” she said, shaking her head and smiling now. The tears were still there, but maybe they were the good sort of tears.
“Of course we’re friends, princess,” I told her gently, reaching across the table to grab her hand. “We’ve always been friends. Among other things.”
She sighed. “I don’t know how you do it. But, dammit, if you don’t have this way of making me feel—”
Feel what? She stopped talking in the middle of her sentence, her eyes darting up at something…or someone. Her face paled and her breath halted. Someone else was here, at our table, and I glanced up to see what she was seeing. For moment, I thought for sure it would be Ben, hovered over us, fucking everything up to pieces.
It wasn’t Ben. It was worse than Ben.
It was her brother.
“John,” she gasped, immediately pulling her hand away from my touch. “What are you doing here?”
* * *
Why this skinny guy could scare the shit out of me?Who the hell knows? But seeing him now, I was freaked. Fucking freaked. Every visible space on him, from his neck to his toes, was covered in artwork. He was night. Sydney was day. But it wasn’t necessarily the tattoos that bothered me. Or his dyed black hair. I had no problem with those things. Instead, it was what it all added to. There was something unsettling about John, something that instantly liquefied my insides and made me feel helpless. Maybe it was the fact that he was her family, the most important person to her, and that meant he held a lot of influence over my future happiness.
“What the hell is this?” he barked at her. “A date?”
“John—” she started.
“No,” he interrupted. “You know what? I knew something was wrong. The moment you left, this nasty feeling settled in the pit of my stomach, and I couldn’t shake it. So I booked the first flight out here.” He hovered over our table, arms crossed, with his eyes only on his sister. I didn’t even exist to him. I wasn’t even good enough acknowledge. “I knew it. I knew it. I knew it,” he went on. “I knew this trip was a bad idea. And sure enough, I show up, and you’re with him.”
He said the word ‘him’ like I was some sort of fungus he couldn’t get rid of. Wow. He had a hell of a lot of nerve to stand there, talking about me like this.
“Have you even seen Ben?” he asked her next.
“No,” she muttered. “I haven’t.”
“What the fuck? Fill me in here because I’m so confused right now. And, wait a minute, are you crying? Sydney?”
“It’s nothing,” she said, wiping at her face. She’d had tears in her eyes from a moment ago with me. Good tears, I believe, not the bad kind. And he was seeing the remnants of that.
“It doesn’t look like nothing,” he argued, assuming the very worst, of course, automatically.
What an asshole. I had my hands in my lap. They were balled up in fists, and it was taking every ounce of my self-control to remain calm. I wanted to follow Sydney’s lead in this situation, but she wasn’t doing or saying much. I couldn’t tell if she needed me to jump in and defend her or keep my mouth shut. Hell, I couldn’t even tell if her brother had just shot our whole relationship to hell simply by showing up. Or if we were still intact. And really, as much as I could take care of myself, part of me needed her to do something right about now. Where was that strong, sassy, ‘take-no-shit’ woman that I’d gotten to know and love? All I was seeing was her shy side. Maybe there were family issues here that I didn’t understand, but I needed a little more from her.
“Oh, God,” John muttered, suddenly lowering his voice to a whisper. He started speaking slower, kinder, but that didn’t make the shit coming out of his mouth smell any better. “Are you gonna need to go to the clinic again? Seriously? Sydney, this is getting old. Why can’t you stay away from him?”
What. The. Fuck. The clinic? As in the place you go for like STD or abortions? What the hell was he talking about? I didn’t know exactly, but everything inside me snapped. I wanted to rip this asshole’s head clean off his shoulders. And I was about to do just that and start something when Sydney spoke first.
“John, you’re embarrassing me,” she told him, her voice extremely calm and even.
It occurred to me then…that a different girl in this situation might have started crying. But, unlike a little earlier, there was no trace of tears on her face. Actually, I had to reevaluate my whole previous thought process. Because I could feel something radiating off her now—something strong, something badass, something that made me sorry I’d doubted her sincerity toward me for even a second.
“Do you have any cash?” she asked me. “I only have a credit card.”
Yes, I had cash. I had plenty of cash on me. Always. Bartenders always have cash. And I understood what she meant. She wanted to pay the bill. She wanted to get the hell out of here as fast as possible. I didn’t hesitate to comply. It wasn’t like I was ever going to let her pay anyway. I dropped a few twenties on the table, our mediocre server getting incredibly lucky because our bill wasn’t nearly worth that much, and stood up from my seat. She did the same.
“We’re not having this conversation here,” she said to her brother.
“Fine,” he said. “Let’s go somewhere else.”
I think he expected her to walk away—without me. Because the moment that we all started to leave, and she grabbed hold of my arm—something that made my heart freaking jump inside my chest—he looked at her like she’d just drawn some sort of line in the sand. Or like her head was on fire and he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “So that’s how it is?” he asked.
“That’s how it is,” she repeated.
The tension that followed could have made even the toughest man on earth squirm. Of course I was thrilled that Sydney had essentially stood up for me, for us, and defended our relationship all in one bold move. But her brother was a dick, unnecessarily, and I pretty much hated him with a passion now. I wasn’t the scum of the earth like he seemed to think I was. I could protect his sister. Hell, I would protect her even from him if need be. And right now, that need was coming close to being.
We walked through the lobby. Then outside.
“What did he mean about you going to the clinic?” I asked the moment we were all alone, standing beside the edge of the building, a safe distance away from other people.
“He made me have an STD test after our first time together. And a pregnancy test.”
“Wow.” There was fire instantly in my voice as I said this to John, not to Sydney. Because it was fucked up how much he hated me. Plus, if Sydney needed to go through any of that then she should have gone through it with me. “Was everything okay?” I asked Sydney now, my tone much gentler with her. “You weren’t pregnant were you? Then or now?”
“No. Of course not,” she said.
“Then or now?” I repeated. I needed her to be specific. It had been months since our first time together and if something horrible had happened in that time between, as in she’d gotten pregnant with our child, had it aborted, and I knew none of this—then I wasn’t sure how I’d react. Not well, I suppose. Not well at all. “Fuck. Now I’m freaking.”
“Don’t. I was never pregnant!” she snapped at me. “End of story. Then or now.”
“Okay.” I threw my hands up. “Sorry. I had to know for sure.”
She nodded, her anger dissipating as fast as it had appeared. “Well, I wasn’t.”
“Well, now I’m wondering how many other times he’s had to ask this question,” John muttered under his breath.
“Zero,” I grunted.
John huffed. “I find that hard to believe.”
“Stop it, John,” Sydney interrupted. Her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes moved to her brother. “You can’t talk this way to Rhett anymore. Not in front of me—or ever. I’m serious, John. I never question your decisions. I’ve always supported you with everything. You have to do the same for me, stop being so cynical, and let me live my own life. Even if this is about to be some giant mistake, you’re going to have to let me make that mistake.”
John exhaled for what felt like ten seconds. I wasn’t about to be some giant mistake to her. I knew that with absolute certainty. I think, because of my past with other women, it was going to take me a little more time to fully prove that to Sydney. But I loved her for saying this to John, for standing up to him on my behalf. He needed to hear it, even if he would always hate my ass. “Fine,” he finally said. “I’ll let you make your mistake. I won’t get in your way or say another thing about it. On one condition though—you come home with me today. Not home to North Carolina but home to New York. It’s almost Thanksgiving. We should both be there. With the family. And if you’re not here to see Ben, only Rhett, then you can do that any time at home.”
Sydney didn’t speak for a minute. The last thing I wanted was for her leave me at this point. We’d only just gotten together. What if the relationship we’d built in one day wasn’t enough to last however long it would be until I saw her again? And John had an angle. I knew he did. He purposely wanted to take her away from me as fast as possible.
“Fine,” she told him. “I’ll pack my stuff. We’ll go.”
“Good. I’ll get us a cab and work on getting our tickets changed for a flight out later tonight,” John said with his phone already halfway out of his pocket. “Bye, Rhett,” he added, throwing one rather devious smile my way.
That fucker!
I shot him a nasty look. I knew he was up to something. I knew he had some sort of plan against me brewing in his head.
“Come on, Rhett,” Sydney said softly, tugging on my hand. “Come with me to pack my stuff.”
It was a relief having her to myself again. It wasn’t a relief knowing she’d be leaving me way too soon. We hurried through the lobby, back toward the elevators, and the moment we were alone behind closed metal doors—she kind of exploded.
“My brother is being such a jerk. I’m so sorry. I’m so embarrassed. He’s not normally like that, I promise. He’s normally cool. But that was unacceptable and I feel horrible.” She paced, kind of like a trapped animal. Then the elevator door clicked open and she immediately stepped off, rushing for the rooms. I had to jog to keep her pace. Before we even entered, she already had her dress halfway untied. And the second we were safely behind the door, she let the material fall to the floor. She wore nothing but a pair of black, lace underwear, and she used her arm to cover her breasts.
“Don’t worry about your brother,” I said, swallowing. My mouth had gone rather dry—seeing her in front of me so deliciously naked and not being able to act wasn’t easy. Plus, no matter how many times I’d seen it, her beauty was always stunning, always something that took my breath away. “What are you doing?” I choked out. “Teasing me?”
“No. Changing.” She picked out some clothes from one of the suitcases, presumably hers, on the floor. “I can’t wear that dress if I’m going to New York. I’ll freeze.” Then she took the clothes and disappeared into the bathroom.
A second later she came back out in jeans and a bulky, black sweater. Her arms were filled with toiletry items. She carried them past me and dumped them into her bag. “There,” she announced. “Packed.” Bending over, she zipped up her bag then grabbed it by the handle and heaved into onto her bed. “I’m freaking out a little,” she whispered.
“I can tell.”
“What am I supposed to tell Georgie? That my overprotective brother showed up on a whim because he had a bad feeling? Then he flipped out when he saw me with you and is making me go home?” She buried her face in her hands for a moment. “This vacation officially sucks.”
Well, this vacation happened to be the best of my life. So…
“Blame it on Ben,” I suggested. “Or me. Or both of us. I don’t care.” I stood beside the bed, a little too apprehensive to approach her. My feelings were suddenly mixed. If the situation were reversed I would have told my brother to go fuck himself. I kind of wished she would have done exactly that. I know he was her family…but still. “You realize that your brother is full of shit, right? And that he’s purposely taking you away from me as fast as possible.”
She sighed, her eyes narrowing at me slightly. “John’s just trying to protect me. That’s been his job since he was ten years old. Even if the way he comes across is harsh, I know he means well. And I do value his opinion. Do you remember someone named Shelley?”
“Who?” I didn’t know a single person named Shelley.
“Never mind. She’s not important. But I better get going.” She stood from the bed, grabbing her bag, lugging it toward the door.
“Wait. Now I need to know. Who’s Shelley?” I questioned, following her.
“Just an ex-girlfriend of John’s. Someone you slept with once. It doesn’t matter.”
Okay then. I guess that explained a lot. Not only had I slept with John’s little sister, but someone from his past too. A redhead with glasses popped into my head. Maybe I vaguely remembered this Shelley person. Whoever she was…Sydney was right, she wasn’t important. But I understood a little bit better now where John was coming from. Sort of.
Sydney reached for the door handle, swinging it open, like she was about to leave without saying anything more. Thoughts of Shelley, or whoever she was, dissipated. “Hey, hey, hey,” I said, hurrying to the door, gently pulling Sydney’s hand off the handle, and stepping in between her and the door. “Look at me,” I whispered. “Are we okay?”
“I don’t know,” she muttered. “How can I love someone that my brother hates so much?”
Shit. Ouch.
Her words were like a kick straight to the gut. The air instantly was knocked from my lungs. And what made everything worse—was the use of the word ‘love’ in that same awful sentence. I hardly knew how to respond.
“I’d better go,” she said. Standing on her toes, she gave me a small goodbye kiss on my lips.
I did nothing in response to her kiss.
I only let her go.
