The Start of a Mysterious Mystery: (Signed with a Kiss, Book 2)

by Sorensen, Jessica

  “I guess that could work.” Actually, it’s kind of perfect, the color matching my mood at the moment.

  Although, I am feeling a bit better right now, but I’m not sure if that’s because of the alcohol or West. Maybe a little bit of both.

  West is making me feel better.

  I don’t know what to do with that revelation, so I don’t do anything with it.

  Instead, I focus on trying to come up with a message to send to Loki that won’t seem suspicious.

  Me: Hey, so I know I'm kind of in trouble, but I'm at Masie's, and we made up, and I really want to spend the night so we can hang out. Can I please do that? I'll owe you big time.

  As I hit send, I realize I rarely ask for his permission to do anything. I just do it.

  So much for not seeming suspicious.

  It takes him about a minute to respond, which seems a bit weird for him. Usually, he's an instantaneous replier.

  Loki: Yeah, go ahead. There's some stuff going on with Zhara that I need to deal with anyway. Nik is actually spending the night at his friends too, so it'll give me time to focus on this. Just please stay out of trouble. I'm trusting you right now.

  Stuff with Zhara.

  That probably means she told him about the road trip thing.

  I wonder how it went.

  Me: Okay, and thanks.

  Thanks? Look at me, being polite. Who is this version of Alexis?

  Loki: You’re welcome. And thanks for asking this time instead of just not coming home.

  I feel a bit bad for lying to him as I put away my phone, but not enough to go home. I’m too much of a mess right now anyway, and it’d only bring more problems.

  “So, are we having a sleepover or what?” West asks me.

  “Yeah, we’re good. But please stop calling it a sleepover.”

  “Why?” He bats his eyelashes innocently. “That’s what it is.”

  “No, it’s not. I’m just sleeping over at your place, something I’ve done before.”

  He muses over something with a smile on his face. “Yeah, I remember.”

  I twist around to get a better look at him. “Why’re you smiling like that?”

  He lifts a shoulder, continuing to smile that way. “I was just thinking about when you slept over at my place that time.”

  “But you look amused, like you think something’s funny.”

  “Nah. I’m just reminiscing.”

  “No, that’s not what it is—”

  He places a finger over my lips, shushing me. “Stop worrying about this. There’s nothing to worry about.” Then he lowers his fingers from my lips, but only to return them to my hair. “Now, what kind of a braid are we thinking? French braid? Fishtail braid? Dutch braid?”

  I turn my back to him and relax as he messes around with my hair. Maybe tomorrow I'll regret all of this. Probably. But right now, I'm way too content to care. I like the distraction from everything, and I'm going to dig my claws into it as hard as I can.

  For now, anyway.

  “Do you even know how to do any of those braids?” I ask.

  "No. But I'm sure I can find a video online and figure it out." His fingers sweep through the strands of my hair. It feels so good that my eyes start to drift shut. "Or you can just do me first, and I can learn from that."

  I'm a little buzzed, and only half of his words register in my hazy brain. But the words that do… "I can do you first... what?"

  His fingers stop combing through my hair. “Did your mind just go to the gutter?”

  “No,” I lie, glad he can’t see my face because my cheeks are so, so warm.

  “Liar,” he breathes into my ear.

  The way his breath dances across my skin makes me think of how he gently sucked on my neck the other day. And like that time, I shiver a little, goosebumps sprouting across my flesh. The reaction, it pulsates through me, and the alcohol swimming through my veins. I may have managed a freak out if Holden didn’t enter the room.

  “So, I’m having a few people over,” he announces then gives West a look. “My boss is one of them. Just want to give you a heads up since you’re having a,” he rolls his eyes, “Sleepover or whatever.”

  "Okay." West stares at Holden, and Holden stares back.

  Again, I feel like they’re trying to have a silent conversation, and like the first time, it bugs me.

  What’s with all the secrecy?

  “Do I need to be around?” West finally asks him. “Or can I bail out for tonight?”

  Holden's gaze flicks to me then back to West. "You're cool for tonight, but tomorrow you should probably hang with us." He angles his head back and takes a swing of his beer then lowers the mouth of the bottle from his lips. "You might want to do your little sleepover thing in your room, though. I don't know what the hell these guys will do if they show up here and you two are," he pauses then shakes his head, "Braiding each other's hair and painting each other's toenails."

  “Don’t dis it until you try it,” West tells him as he gets to his feet.

  “Yeah, that’s never gonna happen,” Holden tells him, his face contorted in disgust.

  “Only because you don’t have any hair to braid,” Ellis jokes, his gaze fixed on the computer screen.

  West presses back a laugh while Holden narrows his eyes at Ellis.

  “You’re really going to go there?” he questions.

  Ellis shrugs. “You’re the one giving him shit about braiding her hair when it’s not a big deal.”

  “That’s a matter of opinion,” Holden argues, sinking down onto the sofa and reaching for a joint he was rolling earlier.

  “No, it’s not,” Ellis insists, making Holden’s jaw tick.

  The two of them start bickering like a couple of old dudes.

  “Come with me,” West mouths as he laces his fingers through mine and pulls me to my feet.

  I'm surprised by how easily I follow him into his room, considering the last time I was in there with him, we ended up kissing.

  But I'm comfortable right now, so I roll with it. Besides, we're going in there to braid hair and paint toenails, so yeah, it doesn't seem like any kissing will happen.

  That is unless he was kidding about the whole thing.

  “Are you really going to braid my hair and paint my toenails?” I ask as he lets go of my hand and sinks down onto the air mattress.

  He nods, his lips quirking as he slips off his boots. “Of course. I never joke about hair braiding and fingernail painting.”

  “You’re so weird.” But I guess so am I.

  So I plop down beside him and take off my boots as well.

  “My feet probably stink,” I tease him as I take off my socks.

  He smirks. “What else is new?”

  I playfully nudge him in the shoulder. “My feet don’t stink.”

  "You're the one who said it." Grinning, he scoots back across the air mattress and leans against the wall. Then he pats the spot between his legs.

  I hesitate before telling myself screw it and slide up until I'm nestled between his legs, and my back is facing him. Then I get comfortable while he starts looking up braid tutorials on the Internet.

  The whole situation is bizarre as hell, but weirdly not awkward. I find that odd. West and I have always butted heads, yet here we are hanging out, and it's not awkward. Sure, we've been talking shit to each other all night, but we were mostly playing around. Maybe it's the shots we had earlier. Or the hits. Or maybe it's because we decided to try to be friends. Or maybe it's the fact that he discovered my secret and didn't make me feel worse about it.

  That’s a lot of maybes. I wonder what the hell that means.

  “Dude, this one looks so awesome, but I’m not sure if I can do it,” West says, drawing me from my thoughts.

  Then he holds the phone in front of me so I can see what he’s looking at.

  No matter how bitchy I can get, no matter how much I try not to feel things, I can’t stop a smile from spreading across my face. The
situation is just so amusing. West is so amusing.

  Amused Alexis.

  Well, Amused and Buzzed Alexis.

  "What do you think?" He leans over my shoulder to look at my expression, then confusion floods his eyes. "What's that look for?"

  “What look?”

  “That cute little smile on your face.”

  I roll my eyes. “My smiles aren’t cute, dude.”

  Now he’s the one to roll his eyes. “Yeah, they are, baby.”

  I give him a dirty look, but don’t actually feel the annoyance. It’s just an act. A habit. “No, what’s cute is that you’re sitting here looking at braids online.”

  “Well, obviously,” he quips with a grin. “I always look adorable.”

  I start to snort a laugh when he dips his head and brushes his lips against mine. He doesn’t deepen the kiss, simply leaning back and clearing his throat. Then he reclines back against the wall and picks up his phone.

  "So, do you think I can pull off this braid or what?" he asks.

  My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat, and I have to swallow hard several times before I can be certain my voice will come out even.

  “It doesn’t hurt to try.”

  He sets the phone down beside us and cracks his knuckles. “Okay, then let’s give it a try.”

  I nod, still struggling to speak evenly because my stupid heart won’t settle down.

  It was just a soft kiss.

  A light brush of lips.

  An exchange of a breath.

  Just air and a slight touch.

  Nothing more.

  Yet, I feel like air has been pumped into my lungs for the first time in a long time.

  Soft kisses might be more dangerous than deep kisses.

  “I’m sorry,” he suddenly says.

  My brows pull together. “For what?”

  “For kissing you.” A short pause. “Again.”

  I wet my dry lips with my tongue. “Why do you keep doing it and then apologizing for doing it?”

  “Honestly.” Another pause as he softly plays with my hair. “Because I like kissing you, even though I know I shouldn’t.”

  I like kissing you too. I don’t want to, but I do.

  Thankfully, those words remain sealed in my dry lips, and he lets the subject drop as he gathers my hair into his hands.

  "All right, let's get this braiding party started." And just like that, he goes back to his joking self.

  I wonder how much of it’s real, though.

  “You have so much hair,” he murmurs after a minute ticks by of him struggling to figure out the first step.

  I lean into his touch. Yeah, I may be tough, but apparently, I'm weak when it comes to him playing with my hair.

  “So much hair,” he murmurs again then curses. “Shit, I suck at this.”

  I snort a laugh.

  “You think this is funny?” He pretends to be offended.

  A smile curves across my lips. “Yep.”

  He laughs under his breath. “We’ll see if you still think it’s funny when you have the prettiest braid ever.”

  He sinks into silence again as he attempts to do the first step again.

  As silence settles between us, my worries slowly drift back to me. That video. Who took it? Why? To blackmail me? What do they want? Who is they? Jay? And what did they mean by they’re going to have he fun I took away from them.

  “What do you think they want from me?” The words leave my lips unintentionally.

  “Who?” he replies distractedly as his fingers become tangled in my hair.

  “This person that’s sending me the texts?” I fiddle with a leather band on my wrist to distract myself from the worry trying to press against my chest. "I mean, why break into my house and steal that necklace? And why send me these texts? And that video … It … That stuff…" I struggle to breathe evenly. "That happened a while ago, so either they've been planning this for a while, or it's someone who just got a hold of the video and has a vendetta against me. And it kind of sounded like it with that whole thing they said about having the fun with me that I took away from them.”

  “Yeah, I thought that was weird too.” He pauses. “I know I don’t know any of those answers yet,” he replies, lowering his hands and looping them around my waist. “Let me stress the yet part because I will find out."

  “Yeah, but…” I anxiously nibble on my bottom lip. “What’re we going to do even if we do figure out who it is? They’ll still have the video and can use that against me.”

  “There’re are ways of shutting up blackmailers, Lex.” The way he says it makes me wonder…

  I glance at him. “Why does that sound like you’re speaking from experience?”

  He shrugs. “Not personal experience, but my parents, they have a lot of secrets. Secrets that people have found out, yet they still manage to maintain an excellent image in this town.”

  "So, you want to handle this the way your parents handle things?"

  "Not really. I'm just saying that there're ways to shut up a blackmailer." Wisps of his blonde hair fall into his eyes as he leans in and traces a path along my jawline with the pad of his thumb. "I'm going to protect you." My lips part in a protest, but he places his fingertip over them. "You can protect yourself too, but I want to help." He lowers his thumb and carries my gaze. "We can be a team."

  This moment is getting way, way too heavy for me, so I crack a joke.

  “A team that braids each other’s hair? Or well, tries too.”

  “Hey, I’ll get there,” he promises me. “Just give me some time to figure it out.” Then he lightly tugs on a strand of my hair, sits back, and starts trying to braid my hair again.

  He keeps talking about how he’s going to help me. Just him helping me. I don’t like that feeling, this one-sided helping thing. If I’m going to accept his help then maybe I should offer him mine. Although, it’s been a long damn time since I’ve helped out with anything.

  I should just say it, say my thoughts aloud. That I’ll help him. That I’ll be there for him.

  But the words won’t leave my lips. Not because I don’t want to help him. Because I’m afraid. Afraid that we’re already getting too close and helping him will only lead to more closeness.

  Afraid Alexis.

  She’s back. Again.

  And I don’t like it at all. It makes me feel restless and unsettled. Makes me long for a spray can. But I can’t do that. I know this. So I do the only thing I can think of. I focus on West’s fingers in my hair and how relaxed it makes me feel, the heat of him seeping through me, the way his legs are wrapped around mine.

  My thoughts become centered on West because he is this moment, and there's nothing else for me to focus on.

  But I’ll take it for now.

  Although, I worry that come morning, I’m going to be Regretful Alexis. But for now, I’m just In-the-Moment Alexis.

  * * *

  I’m having the strangest dream. I’m lying on the floor and a someone is leaning over me. I know I need to wake up, but I can’t seem to get my body to cooperate. It’s like I have sleep paralysis…

  Wake up, Alexis.

  “Wake up, Alexis Baker.”

  The voice is not in my head and sounds vaguely familiar, like a distant memory. I jolt awake and instantly start to panic as I take in the unfamiliar surroundings; the darkness, the strange bed, the person lying beside me, and the voices and music floating from somewhere. I hear shuffling from nearby and a soft thump.

  My heart rate spikes as I bolt upright.

  Where am I? And who’s in here with me?

  “Lex?” West’s voice breaks through my panic.

  He sits up beside me and it all comes rushing back to me.

  I’m with West, in his temporary bedroom, because I slept over.

  “Are you okay?” he asks me worriedly.

  I shakily nod. “A noise woke me up and then I got confused about where I was… I swear someone was in here.”r />
  And someone easily could’ve been. There’s a ton of people in this house right now—I can hear all their voices.

  He glances back at the blanket-covered doorway, then glances around the empty room before looking back at me. He hesitates then reaches for me and wraps his arms around me.

  And just like that, I calm down a little.

  “Everything’s going to be okay,” he whispers softly as he guides me back onto the bed with him. “I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  Nodding, I scoot closer to him, seeking comfort in ways I can’t quite understand.

  He kisses my forehead and that touch brings me even more comfort in a way I can barely comprehend. But in the pit of my stomach, I still feel unsettled and can’t shake the feeling that someone was in this room.

  Someone who whispered my name.

  Eleven

  West

  My eyes are shut, and a warm body is pressed against me. At first, I'm confused as hell, but then I roll my eyes open, and it all comes rushing back to me.

  Bringing Alexis to my house.

  Getting high and drunk.

  Her receiving that text. That fucking text that led to me feeling the burning urge to murder someone.

  I’ve never felt that much rage before and, truthfully, I don’t know what’s going to happen come Monday when I see Jay in the school hallways.

  Just thinking about him … Him putting his hands on her …

  I want to kill him.

  I’ve never wanted to kill anyone before.

  Not even my father, and that’s saying a lot, considering all the scars he’s marked me with.

  But this isn’t about me. This is about her, the girl currently lying in my arms.

  Last night, after we drank way too many shots and took so many hits I couldn’t even feel the rage anymore, we came into my room, and she let me braid her hair and paint her fingernails and toenails. And then I let her do the same thing to me. It was a little weird for sure, but it seemed to relax her. Plus, it gave me time to spend with her and touch her. For the most part, our conversation was light, and joking. The night reminded me a lot of the night when I first started falling for her.