“Not tonight,” I said and let my lips linger against her skin. Then I brushed her hair away from her face and tried my best to study her through the dark. Damn, our noses were nearly touching now, and I still felt like we weren’t close enough. I licked my lips and pushed my length a little harder against her body.
Shit, I was losing control.
I’d never wanted to kiss someone so bad in my life. Her fingernails dug into my arms. She wanted it, too. “Please, Georgie,” I choked out. “Distract me. Now.”
A soft moan escaped her sweet little mouth, and she only pressed her body more tightly against mine. Then, as if to torture me more, she hooked one leg high up around my hip. My hand was all over that leg—touching it and running my hand back and forth down the length of her thigh. It was a bare, smooth yet firm, and absolute heaven.
Holy shit.
“Seriously,” I said, moving my hands so they instead cupped her face. “I’m gonna come in my pants if we don’t stop. Tell me something. Anything. And please, stop fucking moving.”
She chuckled and removed her leg from my hip.
Thank, Christ.
“What do you want me to tell you?” she whispered.
“Anything. Whatever.” I dropped my hands away from her face—they were trembling slightly—then rolled from my side to my back. I locked my fingers behind my head so they wouldn’t be tempted to touch her again. I was relieved and sort of proud of myself for being able to stop right then. Another second longer and I would have lost myself in her. “Tell me about this morning. How come you aren’t going to be working at that Rusty Pelican place this summer?”
“The Blue Pelican,” she corrected.
“Yeah, that’s the place.”
She let loose a heavy sigh and rolled onto her back. It took her a few long moments, but then she answered my question. “Honestly, I don’t know. I thought Sonya and I were friends. And even though we didn’t talk on the phone even once while I was away at The Cove, I never expected her to be so cold to me this morning. She said they weren’t hiring at her dad’s restaurant—even though her dad loves me and I’m positive that if I’d spoken with him he would have hired me. And to make it all so much worse, right before I left, Sonya purposely looked down at my arms, in front of some of the other employees there, staring at my scars like I was some kind of freak.”
“Wait, what? Slow down. Who the fuck is Sonya?!” Whoever she was, I was instantly pissed at her. And at myself. I hadn’t been much nicer than this Sonya person when Georgie came into my business for an application this morning. I sat up. Very. Thoroughly. Distracted. And flipped on the bedside table lamp.
“Noah,” she moaned as the light blinded both our eyes.
“Who is she?” I demanded.
“Turn the light off.”
“No.”
She groaned and sat up also, her brown hair a wild mess around her shoulders and her blue eyes squinting angrily at me. But damn, even in the middle of the night, she was so fucking adorable.
“Who is she?” I repeated, softer this time.
“My best friend since kindergarten. I’m sure you’ve met her before. She always used to hang out at our house—her, me, Logan, and Ben. She and Ben used to date. But they broke up just before he joined the Coast Guard last year. I think their break-up was mutual, but I’m not sure.”
Who the hell was Logan? I had no earthly clue and felt like an ass for not paying better attention before now. Thinking hard, I vaguely recalled Sonya. I’d never had a reason to care in the past so I had to rack my brain to remember her friend. “Is Sonya blond? About the same height as you?”
“That’s her.” She shrugged, her finger tracing absently at a spot on the bed. “The truth is, Sonya and I had been growing apart anyway. Once Ben left and our group went from four to three, nothing was the same. Senior year sucked. Sonya and I kept up appearances at school, but things were awkward between us. And I guess Ben’s death and my suicide attempt destroyed whatever shred of friendship we had left.”
She spoke so calmly of Ben and her ruined friendship with Sonya, but I could read what her lips weren’t saying. It mattered to her. All of it did. And a small piece of the puzzle slipped into place for me. I knew there had to be more of a reason behind her suicide attempt—more than just Ben’s death as the catalyst. And this had to be some of it.
“May I see your arms?” I asked, rather bluntly. She’d mentioned that Sonya had stared at her scars earlier today. I realized I hadn’t even bothered to notice her arms at any point over the last couple days. I’d been too distracted by the rest of her body, but suddenly I needed to see them for myself. I needed to see them more than anything. “That’s the reason I turned the light on,” I added. I’d turned on the light to see her face, but it seemed like a good excuse now.
“Um…they’re ugly.”
“Please.”
“It’s weird that you want to see them,” she muttered.
“No, it’s not. Give me your arms. Please, Georgie.”
It took her forever, but finally she gave in and stretched out her arms, exposing the underside of each for me. “Fine, but I’m only showing you since you’ve already seen them in way worse condition. And, just so you know, you’re a weirdo for wanting to see them.”
“I’ve been called worse,” I replied, then took my time inspecting her arms. Each arm had a raised pink line running vertically down its length—the one on the right much longer and probably the arm she’d cut first. It was sick and twisted and fucked-up of me to think so, but I liked her scars. On the beautiful canvas that was her skin, these were her only imperfection, and I liked that. Her scars would forever connect us both to the night I saved her life. I liked that, too. I had to repress my desire to kiss each of her arms.
Instead, I reached toward the lamp and flipped the switch to turn it off. Darkness coated the room once more. “Time for bed,” I whispered, lying down. I needed us both to go to sleep before I said or did anything incredibly stupid.
“Do you still want me to stay?” she asked.
Had I given her the impression that I didn’t? Dammit, I was painfully bad at this—whatever this was. “Yes. Stay.”
And so she stayed. Inching closer, she rested her head down on my chest. And once I felt the change in her breathing that told me she’d fallen asleep, I allowed myself to fall asleep, as well.
CHAPTER 8
GEORGINA
It was official. I liked Noah. A lot.
But for whatever reason, even if his body seemed to want me back, he’d made up his mind that we couldn’t be anything more than cuddle buddies. He had multiple opportunities to kiss me last night and never once bothered to even attempt it, telling me without words that he didn’t want to take things further than we’d already gone.
Nevertheless, the way he’d held me and spoke to me in the early hours of the morning had been…pretty freaking awesome! So I decided that I’d take whatever I could get from him for however long he was willing to give it. I knew my nights in his arms were limited—eventually the rat that was living in his house would be caught and his reason for staying over at my house would vanish with it.
I woke up well before the sun and before Noah. Today I decided not to linger in bed with him. The fear that my family might catch us together was overwhelming. I couldn’t guess how Ellie would react if she knew—she was too unpredictable—but I knew my parents wouldn’t be happy about it. Noah was older and probably way more experienced than me—not that I was inexperienced, but they didn’t know that—and since I knew this thing with him was only temporary it was better to keep it our little secret.
Drawing on my inner ninja moves, I tried to carefully ease away from him. Only problem—I had zero ninja moves. The waterbed gave me away and Noah caught my waist before I could even make it one inch away. “It’s not even light yet,” he groaned. “Stay.”
“I need to get up. I don’t want to worry my mom.”
He half moaned, half
grunted, but his arms loosened their grip on me.
I laughed. I’d always assumed him to be the shy, loner, tormented type. I now knew that he was none of those things. Well, maybe he was still a little shy—but he certainly wasn’t shy when it was just the two of us snuggled up in the dead of the night. That was for darn sure.
“Bye, Noah,” I whispered, leaving him and the room before I slipped up and confessed my feelings or something equally embarrassing.
I hurried upstairs.
The last two mornings I’d lied to my mom. I’d told her I been walking on the beach as my excuse for being downstairs instead of upstairs in my bed. But today there was no need to lie since she wasn’t awake yet. No one was. I considered returning to my own room. Then I briefly considered actually going for a walk on the beach. But I realized I still wasn’t ready for that.
I moved across the room and toward the bay windows in our living room—the ones that overlooked the ocean. The view was the exact same view I’d already seen a hundred times before.
I’d tried to avoid thinking about Ben every single day since his death. But suddenly, as my eyes studied the water, the memories of my last real conversation with him came crashing down on me.
“Your brother passed all the physical exams and his aptitude test—he’s committed and he’s going,” Mom said, shaking a wooden spoon with spaghetti sauce on it in my direction. She didn’t even care that she was getting some on the carpet. “You, my dear, need to learn how to be more supportive. This is your brother’s dream. Go talk to him because he leaves for Cape May tomorrow, and you’ll regret it if you don’t at least tell him goodbye.”
I balled my fists. “I’m not talking to that idiot! Screw being supportive. And I can’t believe you and Dad aren’t trying to talk him out of his ‘dream.’ We only learned about this so called ‘dream’ three weeks ago! It’s all so stupid; that’s what this is.”
“He’s eighteen. It’s his decision. And I happen to think it’s a very admirable career.”
Mom turned on her heel and headed back toward the kitchen, telling me she was finished arguing. Meanwhile, I was so mad I could spit.
My brother and I were what my mom liked to refer to as ‘Irish twins.’ We weren’t actual twins, but we were a mere eleven months apart and had been raised as if we were twins our whole lives. We were even in the same grade at school. We had all the same friends. He was my best friend. But we’d been at each other’s throats over the last three weeks—ever since he oh-so-casually decided to drop this bomb on us all.
Ben, the older one, had secretly taken a few community college credits. And those credits had been enough for him to skip his senior year of high school and graduate early. And now the asshat was joining the Coast Guard! I guess it didn’t matter anymore that he and Sonya broke up—because surely, she’d have dumped his ass anyway after finding this news out.
I tried taking a few calming breaths, staring out the bay window in our family room. The sight of the ocean usually calmed me—but not right now.
And then…that was when I saw Ben. Outside. Walking along the beach.
Not thinking of anything or anyone but myself, I took off running through the house. Running outside. Running across the sand. I ran straight to where my brother was walking along the shore.
“You moron!” I screamed at him. “Why?! Seriously, why are you doing this?”
Hearing my voice, he whipped around. We had the exact same chocolate-colored hair and blue eyes. He was my twin in every single way—except by birth—and now he was leaving me. I’d never felt so hurt in all my life. Not even that one time when Logan slipped up and cheated on me had I been in this much pain.
“It’s what I want to do, Gina. Please, try to understand.”
“No!” Tears streamed down my face. “One year. Why can’t you just wait one more year?”
“You don’t understand. High school isn’t the same for me as it is for you. Every day feels like a lie—like I’m living for everyone else but me. I need to do this. And you need to understand that.”
I couldn’t stop crying. “What about college? I always thought we’d go together next year.”
“Luke University is your dream; not mine.”
What? It wasn’t just my dream. It was our dream. Or at least that was what Ben had always led me to believe before today. “This isn’t fair. How can you do this to me?”
“Listen to me.” Ben wrapped his strong arms around me (when did he get so much bigger than me?) and held me tight. “Just because I’m running away doesn’t mean I don’t love you. This is what I need to do to be happy.”
“So you’re telling me…living at home with our family makes you unhappy?” I cried into his chest. “If you loved us, and me, then you wouldn’t leave. This is a bullshit excuse for something else. And, seriously, if you go through with this and leave—then I’m going to hate you forever.” Using all my strength, I pushed him away from me. Then I ran for the house.
The next morning Ben left for eight weeks of boot camp at Cape May. And after his training, he was assigned to work on a cutter ship. I stopped paying attention to the details of where he was after that. And when he came back to visit at Christmas time, I was still angry and avoided all conversation with him. And then he died. He fucking died on me, and I was going to hate myself forever for the last mean words I’d said to him.
I’d been selfish and stupid and could never take back the way I’d treated my brother. My senior year had been the worst—nothing was right without him. And after learning he’d died on a rescue mission, trying to save some woman’s life, I felt the most insurmountable pain imaginable. I couldn’t erase the things I’d said to him, but I could join him. So, I’d slit my wrists. Which only backfired in my face, embarrassingly enough, and now I had to live with that mistake, too.
An itchy sensation spread up my neck and all those same horrible feelings threatened to take hold of me again. My counselor at The Cove told me this might happen and now it was happening. And that scared the shit out of me. But, at least, now I knew how to better handle this sort of thing. Before The Cove I’d been pretty clueless. I only hoped I was slightly less clueless now.
“Hey,” Ellie said, disrupting my thoughts. Without even hearing her sneak up on me, she was suddenly standing next to me. And the sun had risen. When the hell had that happened? “You okay?” she asked.
“I was about to go for a run.”
I’d been on the track team in high school. I hadn’t been on the team this year, since I hadn’t been in attendance the last four months of my senior year, but I suddenly had the overwhelming urge to run. Not only that, if I ever faced a ‘trigger,’ then I was supposed to carry out my safety plan—a list of steps my counselor at The Cove had helped me create. Step number one was to notice if a trigger was happening—to notice the warning signs. I was noticing them now. Step two was to take my mind off my trigger. And, for me, that meant going for a run. I left Ellie and rushed toward my room for my running shoes.
I needed leave the house…now!
A minute later I was skipping down the steps with my tennis shoes on—ready to run. My sister was fast though and waiting just outside the front door. She had on her running shoes, as well. And to my absolute horror, Noah was out of bed and standing with her.
“What are you two doing?” I asked, avoiding eye contact with Noah.
“Going for a run with you,” Ellie said, “Duh. What does it look like we’re doing? Baking cookies?”
I groaned and took off sprinting—fast. I had to get away.
I bolted through the neighborhood streets, my feet pounding hard against pavement. I moved at top speed for as long as my body would allow. The fifteen extra pounds I’d gained felt like one hundred. Within minutes my stomach cramped, and my hands began to shake, but I pushed myself and kept running like crazy—running away from all the regret. But I couldn’t keep up this level of speed forever. Soon I slowed and collapsed. I dropped flat on my back, ly
ing on some random person’s ‘more-sand-than-grass’ front lawn.
Noah, of course, plopped down on the ground beside me two seconds later. I guess he’d chased me down the street. He really was a weirdo.
“Shit,” he breathed, his gaze on the clouds above us. “You’re fast. I could barely catch you. I must be doing something wrong at the gym.”
I started to laugh, and I was not sure why, because Noah’s comment wasn’t that funny. But for some random reason I was laughing so hysterically that my stomach hurt and I was near tears. And then suddenly I was crying. Seriously!? I’d been unable to cry for months and now the waterworks decide to show? Noah was the last person I wanted to show emotion in front of. But these tears weren’t the kind I could brush off with a ‘there’s something in my eye’ kind of lie and so I had to let him witness it all.
Sitting up and dropping my head between my knees, I continued to sob. I thought of Ben, of how unfair his death had been, and of how much I wished things could be different. I let the pain wash over me because it seemed like a safe moment to do so. It was excruciating, and I had to count each breath I inhaled to manage through it, but I didn’t feel the urge to kill myself like I had after Ben’s funeral. Did that mean my safety plan was working? Or did it mean that maybe, just maybe, I was already stronger than I realized?
Noah said nothing; he was just there. He sat unwavering by my side as I cried. And then after a couple minutes, something happened. I was able to catch my breath and regain some of my composure. The moment I did, Noah wrapped his arms around my shoulders and pulled me in against his chest. I let him do it, too. I found I really wanted and needed a hug from him.
And then suddenly I realized—holy smokes!—Noah wasn’t wearing a freaking shirt. I guess he must have taken it off before our run, and I never noticed. His chest was slightly damp and taut and warm. It gave me a whole new idea. If he wanted to use me as his snuggle-buddy to make his nightmares go away, then I wanted to use him back in a similar way.
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