He tried to kiss her and she dodged his mouth. She needed to avoid his kisses. They turned her brain to mush.
His eyes burned her up. “I want your lips,” he said hoarsely.
“Oh, you’re going to get them,” she promised.
“On mine,” he clarified.
“You’ll enjoy wherever I”—she kissed his collarbone and then the pulse point on his neck and then the top of his chest—“kiss you.” Her lips trailed down the center of his chest.
His hands drifted back to her waist, his warm palms caressing the exposed skin above her waistband. His touch was more than tempting, but she moved his hands back to his sides.
“Let me touch you,” he begged.
She dropped her hands to his jeans, her fingers closing around the snap and tugging the denim open.
“Hayden,” he choked, his voice thick and strangled as his hands came over hers, stalling her. She looked into his eyes and felt herself slipping, drowning. “You don’t need to do that.”
He lifted a hand to circle the back of her neck and bring her closer. She didn’t resist as his lips claimed hers and those feelings she feared came rushing to the surface.
Her brain turned to mush. He had a way of kissing that consumed her, that melted her bones and made her pudding in his hands.
Her heart gave a violent thud against her chest.
“Hayden!”
Hayden and Nolan sprang apart. Her gaze shot to the door, and she realized the violent thud hadn’t been her heart at all, but her mom flinging the door open and banging it into the wall.
Mom’s gaze swept over her. She laughed, cackled really—her mother had an awful drunken laugh Hayden knew all too well.
She pointed at Hayden as she scrambled for her clothes like she was some great circus spectacle. Most moms would be shouting, maybe even crying, tossing out threats of lifelong grounding. Not her mom. Her mom laughed and offered up a high-five that Hayden ignored.
She had a friend with her. Some guy that looked strung out. Mom elbowed him. “Chip off the old block, right?” Mom eyed Nolan up and down appraisingly. “Well, hello there. Nice job, Hayden. Where did you find this tasty snack?”
“Mom,” she said sharply, hot embarrassment flaming through her. “What are you doing home so early? I thought you were going to Galveston.” Mom liked to gamble on the casino boats with the money they didn’t have. Whenever she did that, Hayden didn’t see her until late the next day. Sometimes the day after that.
Mom motioned to the guy next to her. “Alan here thought—”
“Alex,” the guy supplied, his eyes tracking over Hayden hotly. Her skin crawled as she hastily finished dressing herself.
“I’m sorry, ma’am.” Nolan addressed her mother, reaching for his own shirt and slipping it on over his head in one smooth move. Then he actually offered Mom a handshake. “My name is Nolan Martin.”
Hayden fought back an eye roll. He was treating her mother like she was some kind of parent that might react in a normal way to her daughter making out half naked with a boy on the couch. It was sweet of him to think she had that kind of upbringing. Sweet and very misguided.
“Hey, don’t apologize,” Mom said. “I was a teenager once, too.” She waggled her eyebrows and looked at the douchebag she brought home. “Still have the hormones of one.”
God. Shoot me.
“Oh! Food.” Mom’s heavily lined eyes alighted on the fast food littering the coffee table. She stepped forward and dropped down on the couch, picking up Nolan’s half-eaten burger. “Come on, Alan. You hungry?”
“Yeah. Starving,” he said, even as his gaze continued to roam over Hayden like she was the turkey on Thanksgiving Day.
Gross. But then, Hayden was used to the gross guys her mom brought home. It was the only type of guy Mom seemed capable of attracting. That’s why Hayden had a padlock on the outside of her bedroom door and a deadbolt on the inside, and she slept with a bat under her bed. She didn’t leave anything to chance. Not while living with Mom.
This world was full of victims and survivors . . . and then there were the people fortunate enough to live a life safe and free of fear.
Someday Hayden would have that. Someday she would have her own place. Someday she would sleep in a bedroom without locks on the door. And that bat she owned? It would take its rightful place in the garage with other sports equipment. Until then, she functioned by expecting the worst at all times and being prepared for it.
Nolan moved to stand beside her.
“I’ll walk you to your truck. Come on, Nolan.”
He lingered as though he would do the whole polite farewell thing to her mother, but Mom was too busy stuffing her face and fishing for the remote control in the couch cushion. The gross guy was more interested in watching Hayden than eating. What a creep.
She spun around and exited the house, confident that Nolan would follow. She hurried down the walkway toward his truck, the sound of his footsteps fast after her. When she reached the driver’s door, she turned to face him, her hands rubbing up and down her arms as though warding off the chill night.
Immediately, his dark gaze was assessing, peeling back the layers as he looked at her. It made her skin itch.
“What . . .” He paused, clearly gathering his thoughts and words. Undoubtedly, he was wondering about her train wreck of a mother and that douchebag she just brought home.
Sighing, she looked back at her miserable little house, sagging like a hunkered old body in the night. She needed to get back inside. She had left Sanjana asleep in her bedroom, and even though Mom and her friend didn’t know there was anyone else in the house, she did not like the idea of leaving anyone unprotected while they were at her house. It wasn’t as though her mother was a predator. Her mother was simply indifferent to the predators who buzzed around her . . . and followed her home.
Trying to make light of it, she patted his chest. “That was fun. Maybe we can do it again.” She motioned to the door of his truck.
He frowned, looked at his truck and then back to her again. “Hayden . . . I don’t really like the idea of leaving you in there with . . .” He motion toward the house, again searching for the words.
“With my mother?” she finished, letting that hang between them so maybe the ridiculousness would sink into his head.
Nolan shifted on his feet uncomfortably.
She continued with an edge to her voice. “Why? Are you offering for me to move in with you then? Because I live with my mom. Like all the time. This is my life, and I’m quite adept at dealing with it. I don’t need you to save me.” She had seen how he could be with his sister. She didn’t want his pity. She definitely didn’t want to be his little project. She didn’t need saving. She could save herself. She had been doing it for as long as she could remember.
She sighed, wishing she could go back to before. When they were kissing on the couch and she wasn’t thinking at all. There was no Mom with a douche-date. She didn’t have to reveal this part of her life.
“Hayden,” he said gently. “Did you even notice how dilated his eyes were? Clearly he’s on something.”
She snorted. “Yeah, and my mother probably is too. This is my life, Nolan. As ugly as it is. Welcome to my world.” She held her arms out wide at her sides. “You can’t save me from it.”
He blinked and expelled a breath. He was out of his element. And that was okay. She didn’t want him to do anything for her. She just wanted him to go back to being the boy on the couch with his lips on her neck. Not a boy who cared about her or wanted to help her or saw the realities of her life she tried so hard to keep hidden.
This concern, this level of care . . . it wasn’t part of the deal. She didn’t want it from him.
Suddenly, she felt colder. “Just go home, Nolan.”
He glanced at his truck and then back at her. “Do you want to hang out tomorrow—”
“No!” she snapped, and then took a breath to soften her tone. She had set the parameters earli
er tonight. Evidently they were a struggle for him. “Let’s just leave it at tonight. It was fun. But let’s stop while we’re ahead.”
His expression hardened. “That’s it then? I tell you I’m worried about you and that I care about you and you’re ready to kick me to the curb?”
“Care about me?” His words felt like a chokehold. “You don’t care about me. I’m Hayden Vargas. The girl your sister hired for kissing lessons. Remember that? You know what everyone says about me. You thought the same thing. I’m the school slut, remember? The only reason you’re even here tonight is because you’re single now and looking to . . .”
“And looking to what?” he demanded.
She shook her head in disgust, crossed her arms over her chest, and settled into silence. There was nothing else to say.
He continued, “You act so strong and so tough.” He inhaled. “But I never took you for a coward.”
She dropped her arms to her sides. “I’m a coward? Just because I don’t want to be with you? What? Did you think I could be the next Priscilla in your life? We agreed this was just for fun. Nothing serious.”
“No! I never expected you to be like Priscilla. I just want you as you are.”
She scoffed. “You don’t want me.”
He ignored her. “I want to be with you and I want us to see where this can go . . .”
“Where it can go?” She laughed bitterly. “This is not going anywhere. Sure, you could probably get in my pants. You touch me and I melt like butter, but that’s the only place we will ever go. It’s just chemistry. It’s only physical. There’s nothing deeper than that. You’re going off to school somewhere where you’ll meet another Priscilla and I’ll move out of this house and finally get my own life.”
He nodded slowly, as though processing. “If you’re not careful, when you get that life, you’re going to live it all alone.”
Did he think that scared her? That’s what she had been planning all along. A safe life all by herself that she could control. She looked skyward and then at him again.
His face was flushed. She knew she had upset him. Good. He expected too much from her, and he needed to realize that this couldn’t be anything more. She needed him to quit. Like everything in her life, she needed him to quit on her.
She had plans that did not include Nolan. She smiled at him and he blinked, clearly not expecting a serene smile from her while they were arguing like this.
“That sounds good to me, Nolan. No. Actually, it sounds perfect.”
Lesson #28
It’s all about confidence, even if you’re just pretending.
x Emmaline x
Emmaline’s mom was washing dishes when she walked in the house with Beau behind her.
She’d invited him inside, not sure if he would accept the offer—especially after the awkwardness that was now between them. It just seemed the thing to do. Over the years, he’d spent more time in the Martin household than his own. He’d agreed to come inside for Nolan. Of course. It was the reason Beau was in her life in the first place. He didn’t want to come inside because of her. He didn’t want to come inside for her. Whatever happened in the truck was a fluke. I want to kiss you, Pigeon. He was Beau Sanders. Maybe for a moment he forgot she wasn’t just a random girl.
“Hey, guys,” Mom greeted as she dried her hands with a dishtowel. She glanced at the clock. “Party no fun? It’s only ten. Didn’t expect you until curfew.”
Emmaline shrugged. “It was okay.”
“Well, there’s leftover pizza from Zio’s. Savannah and I went there after the movie. It’s in the fridge if you want some.”
Emmaline glanced around the kitchen. “Where is Savannah?”
“She got invited to spend the night with Maddie. I dropped her off on the way home.” Mom looked at Beau. “Nolan is in his room.” She tossed the dishtowel on the counter. “I’m heading up to bed.” She pressed a kiss to Emmaline’s cheek. “See you in the morning, sweetheart.”
“Good night,” Beau said as Mom headed for the stairs.
“Night, Beau.” She waved without looking back behind her.
Beau was just like another one of her kids to her. As commonplace as a piece of furniture. It was almost insulting. She didn’t bat an eye over going to bed and leaving Emmaline alone with him.
Standing in the now empty kitchen, they stared at each other, tension swirling all around them.
Beau cleared his throat. A muscle in his cheek twitched, the only outward sign that he was affected. He glanced toward the stairs and then looked back at her. “I’ll go catch up with Nolan.”
Yeah, in case there was any confusion. He was here for her brother and not her. They established that. “Sure. Okay.” She nodded jerkily.
He took the stairs and she waited a moment, not wanting to follow him directly.
Once his steps stopped thudding on the stairs, she hurried into the shelter of her own bedroom. She stripped off the sweater she’d borrowed from Sanjana and squeezed out of her skinny jeans. Unclipping her bra, she slid it off her shoulders and dropped it to the floor.
She stretched her neck and released a breath. Standing in her underwear in her closet, she surveyed her T-shirts.
All these years she had nursed her crush on Beau privately. She had kissed pillows, pretending it was his mouth. It had seemed harmless enough. Foolish, but harmless. It was just a crush. Not real.
Except tonight all of that had come to a head.
I want to kiss you, Pigeon.
She could not get his words out of her head!
For a moment, she had thought he would. He had leaned in and then that car behind them had honked. What if he had kissed her?
Shaking her head, she pulled an oversized T-shirt off a hanger and slipped it on.
A knock sounded at her door. Before she could call out, it opened to reveal Beau. “Hey, Nolan isn’t here. Guess your mom didn’t realize he . . .” His voice faded as his gaze landed on her.
Nolan wasn’t home. She had assumed Nolan’s truck was parked in the garage.
Her mom was in bed.
She digested all of that in the space of a second.
Emmaline froze, achingly aware that he stood mere feet away while she wore an oversized T-shirt and her panties. Beau seemed to reach the same conclusion.
His eyes tracked over her slowly. “Sorry, I should have waited for you to say come in.”
She swallowed. “Come in.” Yes, that throaty husk was her voice.
He shut the door and leaned against it. He didn’t come any closer though. His expression was like stone, revealing nothing as he gazed at her.
Her heart was racing, but a steady calm swept over her as she approached him. She didn’t touch him. She was careful not to do that. She had other ideas.
Emmaline reached past him and flipped off the light to her bedroom.
Instantly the room was doused in a red glow thanks to the lava lamp on her dresser.
She met his gaze, holding it, conveying, she hoped, everything with a look. Everything like: she was glad he was here, and she couldn’t get his words out of her head, and if he really wanted to kiss her she wanted to kiss him, too.
Slowly, she turned and walked toward her bed, praying that some of her time with Hayden had rubbed off on her. She tried to look sexy as she stopped and slid him an inviting look over her shoulder. He stayed motionless, his back pressed against that door as if he was the only thing holding it in place. As though moving away from it might send the whole house crashing down around them.
She didn’t care though. Let the house fall down around them. Let the whole thing crash to dust and rubble. It would be worth it. Being with him . . . making her crush a reality, bringing it to life . . .
It would all be worth it.
With her back still to him, she pulled her shirt over her head. It was bold, but somehow she managed it. Confidence. Hayden told her it was all about confidence.
She’d be confident if it killed her.
There was a soft thud as his head fell back against the door. “Emmaline,” he said hoarsely. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”
“I’m not a kid anymore, Beau. I know exactly what I’m doing and exactly what I want.”
“No. You don’t.”
“I’ve always wanted you.” The air rushed from her lungs. There. She’d said it. She’d made a big show about getting lessons from Hayden so that she could attract guys, but the only guy she’d ever really wanted was him.
She was starting to get a crick in her neck from looking at him over her shoulder. She knew she should turn and face him, but her courage only went so far. It was one thing to take off her shirt and let him feast on a view of her back. Until he moved and showed the slightest indication that he was into her—into this—she wasn’t turning around and flashing him her boobs.
Beau didn’t move, didn’t speak. Just when she was thinking he would bail on her and leave her rejected, he cursed and shoved off the door, coming at her in a few long strides.
She didn’t turn around.
He stopped directly at her back, the cotton of his shirt brushing her bare skin. His hands landed on her; one at her shoulder and the other slightly lower, flat against her shoulder blade. His ragged breath fell beside her ear. “Is this okay?”
She shivered at his hands on her.
“Yes,” she agreed. “You’re staying.” Her voice didn’t even sound like her own. It was more like a strangled croak.
“You think I’m strong enough to walk away from you?”
His arm inched around her waist. He flattened his palm just below her breasts, his fingers splaying wide, almost covering her stomach completely, fingertips brushing her ribs. Not because she was so small, but rather his hands were so big.
Kissing Lessons Page 19