1988: Need You Tonight (Love in the 80s: A New Adult Mix)

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1988: Need You Tonight (Love in the 80s: A New Adult Mix) Page 4

by Rachel Higginson

“You don’t even know him.”

  “I don’t have to. I know guys. And I know his type.”

  “You’re telling me you’re not the same type? Football stud? Jock extraordinaire? Come on, give me a break.”

  “Yikes, Carmichael. Is that all you think of me?”

  I shifted in my seat so I could watch his reaction. “Are you telling me you don’t have a new girl every night? Or at least every football game?”

  He leaned toward me and I inhaled peppermint, Old Spice, and now the leather from his jacket. He smelled too good not to have girls hanging off him all the flippin’ time.

  But he met my gaze for just an instant and I couldn’t help but see the sincerity in his expression. “I respect women, Cass. I don’t need a new girl every night. I just need the right girl to stay with me every night.”

  My stomach flipped at his words and the way he looked at me when he said “right girl.” I managed a shaky reply. “That’s sweet of you.”

  “Isn’t that what you want, too?” he pressed. “I don’t take you as the one night stand kind of girl.”

  I shrugged and tore my eyes away from him and his stupid, sensitive face. “I’ve had a really bad year,” I confessed. “I just want one night. One night to forget everything. One night to get over everything.”

  The warmth of his hand surprised me when it slid over my shoulder, landing on the back of my neck. He held me there, comforting, calming and sending tingles all over my body. “I know things kind of suck right now, but you’re worth so much than what Jake Turner can give you. And besides, he’s an idiot. If you’ve known him your whole life and he hasn’t noticed you yet, he’s dumber than I thought he was.”

  Part of me wanted to be outraged on Jake’s behalf. But the other part, the bigger part, was flattered he thought so highly of me.

  I liked that he stuck up for me. Ever since my parents split, I hadn’t felt like anybody had been on my side. All my parents cared about were themselves. I knew they had to do what was right for them, but there was nobody that even wanted to listen to what I thought.

  Except Troy.

  “Why are you being nice to me?” I asked in a soft voice that I could trust not to crack.

  His cocky grin reappeared and he winked at me. “I’m always nice to you, Carmichael. You just never notice.”

  My cheeks heated with embarrassment and I realized that was true. I had been irritated with him all semester, but not because he had been rude or mean. He was overly friendly. Always talking to me when I wanted to be lost in my own head. Always trying to get my attention when I was supposed to be paying attention to the professor.

  “Sorry I’ve been such a bitch to you.”

  His grin widened. “Hey, you haven’t been a bitch.” I gave him a look. “At least not every day. You always let me borrow a pencil.”

  I laughed because that was true. “You’re right. I’ve actually been really nice to you.”

  His warm chuckle filled the front seat and my heart picked up speed. That was a sound I could very much get used to. His hand slid from the base of my neck to my shoulder and then down my arm to my hand before he pulled away. “But it’s like what Coach always says, you can always try harder.”

  “Smooth, Troy. Very smooth.”

  He laughed some more. “I’m just warming up, Cass. Get ready to be impressed.” Before I could say another word, he made a sharp right that had me gripping the door handle. “Sorry!” he told the car. “Almost missed my turn.”

  “Where are we going?” He’d turned off the main highway and onto a gravel road that didn’t seem to lead to anywhere. Nerves rioted inside of me and this was when I wondered if Troy Cameron was not charming and likable after all, but an ax murderer with the perfect cover.

  “We’re hungry, remember? I know a good place just a little out of the way where we can grab some grub before the show.”

  “I really don’t want to be late,” I told him.

  He shook his head playfully. “You won’t be. I promise. Well, maybe just a little bit. But this place has the best waffles in the entire state.”

  “I don’t even like waffles.”

  “Pancakes then? Root beer floats? Chicken fried steak?”

  I stared at him. “You’re not going to give up, are you?”

  “Not a chance.”

  “Fine, then. Let’s go get your waffles. But I better not miss a second of Fresh Suicide.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he promised.

  It was his tone that made me nervous. I knew he was hungry. Just looking at him made me hungry. Er, for food. Because he was so large and obviously needed to constantly eat to keep up his energy.

  But there was something else there too. Something that made me wary and skeptical of his real motives. He didn’t have to be as big of a Fresh Suicide fan as me, but there was something else there too.

  He didn’t want me to go tonight.

  He didn’t want me to see Jake.

  But Troy didn’t realize how long I had waited for tonight. How long I’d been waiting for Jake.

  Nothing was going to get in the way of that. Not even Troy Cameron.

  The gravel road continued for five miles down the road before turning back to pavement. We drove by endless cornfields and rolling hills until finally civilization could be seen again.

  And by civilization, I meant a gas station, a bar, the remains of a post office and a diner. These buildings belonged to some town, but even though I was relatively local, I had no idea which town.

  Troy parked the station wagon at the edge of the lot where he would be the least likely to run over unsuspecting pedestrians and we all piled out.

  “Have you been here before?” Gina asked Mikey. I could hear the skepticism in her voice.

  This looked like the kind of place that served dog instead of beef on greasy plates that were never quite clean enough to eat off of.

  “Sure,” he agreed. “This place is boss.”

  Gina crossed her eyes at me. I bit down on my lip to keep from laughing. Of course, this wouldn’t just be an easy ride to Battle of the Bands. Of course, we’d have to go through all of this.

  Griffiti’s was the most crucial haunt for all Wharing students. It was an eighteen and older club run by an old biker named Mad Dog that had lost his leg to some infection. He couldn’t ride anymore, so he opened a bar. When he couldn’t make enough money to pay the bills, he’d started carding and opened the doors to the younger, college crowd.

  Wharing was only a thirty minute bus ride to Grafitti’s, but you had to have a ride home if you wanted to stay late. State College was thirty minutes in the opposite direction.

  Mad Dog had no problem paying his bill these days.

  College kids loved this place, Gina and me especially—although because of our lack of transportation, we didn’t get here as often. And we had never taken a detour to this dive.

  Troy held the door for us and Mikey and Gina walked in first.

  I wrinkled my nose, afraid of where this night was going. “You sure this place is legit?”

  He smiled down at me. “I’ve been coming here my entire life.” He lifted up his white t-shirt in a brazen display of muscle and lean body. His abs flexed and I had to hold my hands behind my back to keep from tracing the lines. “You’ll be safe, Carmichael. There’s nothing to worry about.”

  When I continued to stare at his abs, he dropped his shirt and nudged the underside of my chin with two of his fingers. I reluctantly lifted my gaze to his.

  His eyes were warm, the deepest blue I’ve ever seen. “See something you like, Cass?”

  The small tilt to his lips told me he was teasing me, but the rasping in his voice made my knees weak.

  “I’m just hungry,” I whispered.

  His head dipped down and his scent and body heat and overwhelming aura enveloped me. “Me too.”

  “You guys gonna stand in the door all day or can we eat?” Mikey shouted from a vinyl booth against the window
, breaking the spell that had captured us both.

  I shook my head and tried not to trip over my own feet as I moved into the diner. Fall had turned cool in our neck of the woods and the closer the sun dipped toward setting, the crisper the night got. I was thankful for the warm diner and the smell of coffee in the air.

  We walked by a table with a mom and two kids. One of them had the syrup bottle in hand and a huge plate of strawberry covered waffles. Troy was right. Those waffles looked bomb.

  Troy shot me a smug wink over his shoulder and mouthed, “Told you.”

  I stuck my foot out and kicked the bottom of his shoe in the middle of his step. His leg flailed and he nearly face planted on the black and white checkered floor.

  “You’re in for it now, Carmichael,” he growled playfully. Spinning around faster than I had ever seen anyone move, he lunged for me.

  I jumped back, shocked by this man and his superhuman reflexes. What had I just done? “Leave me alone!” I squeaked, but it was ruined by my smile.

  “Not a chance.”

  He grabbed me around the waist and tossed me over his shoulder, spinning me around wildly. I kicked my legs in the air to keep from hitting anything with them and held onto his shoulders for dear life.

  By the time a waitress appeared I was screaming and laughing and gasping for breath.

  “Troy Albert Cameron, you put that poor girl down right now before you scare all my customers away!”

  Troy stilled immediately, his hands landing on the backs of my thighs. I lifted my head and dizzily found Gina’s amused gaze. “Albert?” we said in unison.

  He squeezed my thigh and slid his hand up just below my ass. I squeaked again and hit his shoulder.

  The waitress went on, “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, son. But I raised you to be a gentleman.”

  He squeezed the back of my thigh again, forcing me to agree with the waitress. “He is definitely not being a gentleman right now.”

  For that comment, he spanked me. Actually spanked me.

  “Troy Albert!” I hollered. “Put me down right now.”

  Glancing around at the diner from my point of view, I could see that we had captured everyone’s attention. My cheeks warmed with embarrassment, but my entire body heated for an entirely different reason.

  A reason that still had his hands all over me.

  “Do as the lady asks,” the waitress pleaded, sounding exceedingly exhausted. “Before the whole town is gossiping about it.”

  “Yes, Aunt Grace.” Troy sounded sufficiently reprimanded and I couldn’t help but feel like the winner.

  I heard Troy’s aunt move back behind the counter and I was worried I’d lost my ally, but Troy’s hands landed on my waist next and he lowered me to the ground. He kept my body close to his, sliding me down the front of him. When I landed back on my feet I grabbed his jacket to steady myself.

  My head swam from all the spinning, but it was Troy’s piercing blue eyes that left me truly unbalanced. “Sorry,” I whispered. “I’m dizzy.”

  His hands stayed on my waist, holding me in place. The heat of his body burned through my flimsy shirt. My breath caught in my throat and my heart fluttered wildly.

  Troy’s mouth dipped towards mine and he teased, “Are you saying I make you dizzy?”

  “I’m saying…” What was I saying? What was I doing?

  This night was supposed to be about Jake Turner, about the one guy I had wanted my entire life. This night was supposed to be about forgetting all of my problems and just letting go.

  Gina’s voice cut through my confused haze, shouting, “Get a room you two!”

  Troy’s expression turned murderous, but I was thankful for the interruption. I jumped out of his arms and tugged at my skirt, terrified that I’d mooned the kids eating the waffles.

  I stepped around Troy and slid into the booth next to Gina. I couldn’t look at her or at Mikey, so I stared at the Formica table and tried to catch my breath.

  I felt Troy slide into the booth across from me more than saw him. He had this energy that I could suddenly feel. It buzzed over my skin and made my stomach flip with anticipation. I didn’t know what to do with it.

  In an hour I was going to be screaming for Jake and then hopefully hanging out with him backstage. His invitation to find him after his set had gone way better than I could have hoped. All I had to do now was get to the show.

  The tip of Troy’s boot found mine under the table. He nudged me once, then twice, then three times until I finally lifted my gaze and looked at him.

  “Get the waffles, Carmichael. I’ll even pay for them if you don’t like them.”

  I lifted one eyebrow. “Are you serious?”

  He tapped the table with one of those ridiculously long fingers. “As a heart attack.”

  My teeth sunk into my bottom lip. It was too good to pass up. “Fine, Cameron, you win. I’ll try the damn waffles.”

  The waitress reappeared. This time Troy stood up and kissed his aunt on the cheek. “Grace, these are some friends from school. Everybody, this is my Aunt Grace.”

  Grace, a no-nonsense squat woman with big hair, bright makeup and tan pantyhose beneath a blue uniform dress and white apron, rolled her eyes at her nephew. “Names, Troy. I need names.”

  He smiled at her, apparently used to her attitude. “You know Mikey from the team,” he started. “That’s Gina. We just met today. And this is Cassandra Carmichael. We have English together.”

  Grace’s face softened at the mention of my name. I shifted uncomfortably as she stared at me with a secret smile on her face. “Cassandra Carmichael, I think I’ve heard my nephew mention that name once or twice.”

  I gave her a shaky smile in return. “Everyone calls me Cass.”

  She picked up my hand and held it in hers. “Well, Cass, it’s very nice to meet you. I’m so glad Troy finally got you in the diner.” While I opened and closed my mouth like an idiot trying to think of something to say, Grace let go of my hand and moved back to business. “Now what’s everyone having? My apple pie is fresh and coffee is brewing now.”

  Everyone ordered waffles and a cup of coffee, including me. Grace reminded us to behave and disappeared to get our drinks, leaving us to sit in the wake of that awkward conversation.

  Or at least me.

  “What did your aunt mean by what she said to Cass?” Gina asked. She pinned Troy in place with her laser vision and I actually felt afraid of her on his behalf.

  He shrugged and stared at the napkin he was currently turning into a triangle. “She was just being nice.”

  Gina wasn’t about to give up. “But what did she mean when she said that she was glad you finally got Cass into the diner?”

  Troy tightened the edges of his triangle napkin. “Oh, did she say that? I… I… don’t know what she meant by that.”

  Gina slapped the table. “You’re a liar.”

  I watched the top of Troy’s ears turn bright red and some of the awkwardness I felt faded.

  Mikey leaned forward, slapping Troy loudly on the back. “Leave my man alone, Gina. So he’s had a little crush on the goth queen. Ain’t nothing to be ashamed of.”

  Troy’s cheeks were just as red as his ears now and I felt my face match the tomato color.

  Gina laughed loudly and clapped her hands together. “Shut up!”

  Poor Troy. He shifted in the booth, but now the napkin was in tatters. “Some friend you are,” he complained to Mikey. “Don’t you know when to keep your mouth shut?”

  Mikey threw his hand toward me. “Oh, come on, dude. You threatened that kid in your biology class for the tickets to the show and you’ve been handsy with her all night. Surely she figured it out by now.”

  My mouth dropped open and my eyes bugged out of my head. “You threatened someone in your biology class?”

  Troy still wouldn’t look at me. I half expected him to start burning a hole in the table by how hard he was staring at it. Then at least my superhuman suspicion
s about him would be correct.

  “He was a total Dexter,” Mikey laughed. “He nearly pissed his pants!”

  “Get out!” Gina gasped.

  Troy’s head snapped up and glared at her. “I didn’t really threaten him. I just… I just suggested that I might need the tickets more than he did.”

  Mikey slapped Troy on the back again. “He told the kid he’d steal the poor guy’s girlfriend if he didn’t cough up the tickets.”

  “Troy Albert Cameron,” I murmured. I couldn’t decide if I was flattered or horrified.

  His gaze finally moved to mine. My heart squeezed for him, empathetic for how embarrassed he was. But when he started talking, he sounded just as cocky as always. “I wouldn’t have really done it,” he swore. “I was just in a hurry.”

  “Why?” I couldn’t help but ask, even though I had a pretty good idea already. “Why did you do it?”

  His leg started bouncing erratically under the table. The toe of his boot still touched mine and the jerky movement made my entire body vibrate.

  But I didn’t pull away.

  “You needed a ride,” he confessed.

  I thought of something else. “The English project?” He had been dancing around what it was all day. And he didn’t seem to care at all that I didn’t have my notebook.

  His lips twitched, but he restrained his smile. “Hey, listen, I’ve been trying to talk to you all semester. You haven’t given me the time of day.”

  I grabbed a napkin, balled it up and threw it at him. “You’re unbelievable!” I thought of something else and I nearly smacked him. “You’re not skipping practice are you? Because even I’m not worth that!”

  He laughed at me, a low chuckle that did funny things to my insides. “No, that’s legit. We really didn’t have practice tonight, which was why I had to make up the English project. You forced my hand.”

  “I didn’t know you were interested in me,” I told him honestly. “You could have just told me.”

  He glanced up at the ceiling briefly. “Yeah, right. You’ve been shutting me out all semester.”

  “Sorry,” I whispered and realized I meant it. “I’ve been kind of lost in my own head this year.”

  His gaze found mine again. “I know.”

 

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