by Jo Raven
Normally I wouldn’t have paid much attention. My attention is scattered on the best of days, and today I’m running on fumes. But it was about Amber, because I mentioned she was invited, too, and I can remember what Megan said, word for word.
“Your girl. She’s something special.”
That was it. Then a flood of customers interrupted her impromptu analysis of Amber, and I’d spent the afternoon running up and down without a moment to wind down. And then I did the same for another four hours at the taco joint.
No wonder I’m dead on my feet and my brain is rattling loose.
Your girl, though. That’s what caught my attention.
Not that Amber isn’t special. I wouldn’t know, of course, I hardly know her, but she feels special. Shy or not, girl has strength. When I tease her, she looks me in the eye and answers right back. Teases back, despite admitting she got bullied in the past.
Girl hates social events and wears mismatched pajamas. She likes to pull her long hair up, but when it’s down she looks like a sex goddess, and I…
Christ, I should stop thinking about her all the damn time.
“Hey, man.” Micah claps me on the back. “So cool you made it.” He turns back to the nearby pool table where Shane is obviously kicking his ass.
“Ev not here?” I ask, stepping closer to watch Shane take aim with his cue and shoot yet another ball down.
“She may pass by later.” The grin he flashes me is so fucking big I want to laugh. “What?”
“Nothing.” I cover it up with another gulp from my beer. “Hey, just wondering, you know… Her ex-boyfriend hasn’t shown up again, sniffing around, has he?”
“No. Why you asking?”
“Nada. Just curious.” And seeing Seth in pain brought it all back—the phone call I got from him, his slurred, gasping voice asking me for help, finding him beaten up and bleeding on the sidewalk… Yeah, I was the one who found him. No wonder I feel kinda responsible for his recovery.
“Talking of chicks…” Shane shakes back his dark mane and winks, then glances over his shoulder.
What the fuck is he doing? And who’s talking of chicks anyway?
Then I see her.
Not Amber, unfortunately. God knows I’ve pictured her so often in my mind’s eye lately that I wouldn’t be surprised to see her appear out of thin smoke. No, this girl is blond and curvier. Pretty, I guess.
“Cassie,” Seth says, and there’s a strange note in his voice that makes me turn to look at him. Only he hides his expression by taking a long swig from his beer—an old trick—and before I have time to analyze it, based on my expertise on human emotions, har har very funny, Cassie is making a beeline toward us.
Toward me.
Talk about awkward.
“What a coincidence, finding you here,” she says and gets into my private space without missing a beat. Her blond hair is caught in a swinging ponytail, and she has silver loops hanging from her ears. She’s dressed in a red top that isn’t much bigger than a bra and a mini skirt that’s showing off her shapely legs. Dressed to kill.
“Yeah, I bet ya didn’t expect me,” I drawl as her warm flesh presses against me. I take a step back, trying to discreetly put some distance between us. “Whatcha doing here?”
“Oh, sorry, did I bust into an only-boys evening?” Her smile is anything but repentant. She knows damn well what she’s doing, this girl, and normally it would have turned me on like nobody’s business.
But it’s not working, not tonight. Somehow, not anymore.
“Is Ev with you?” Micah asks, whose mind is so stuck on one girl only, it’s kinda funny.
“She said she’ll be by in half an hour. I came with Manon, but she’s at the bar over there, chatting up the bartender.” She bats her lashes at me.
Crap.
Cassie is here on a mission, time frame calculated and target set. Realizing the target is me isn’t too big of a leap. I mean, she’s still advancing on me even as I’m retreating. I’ve always attracted people, both chicks and boys somehow. I learned to take advantage of it, work with it. Own it.
I had no other choice, and on certain days I forget I now do.
“Hey, Cass, you’re going to Asher’s wedding, right?” Seth asks, momentarily distracting her.
She glances at him, her eyes gleaming below lashes that seem long like a rail. Can’t be natural, right? “Yeah, I guess.” She turns back to me. “If Jesse’s going.”
Holy shit. I also glance at Seth, hoping he can read my mind and get her off my hands, but he’s staring at her with a heavy frown, his neck reddening.
No good.
So I turn to Shane, who catches my eye, lifts a brow, and then nods.
“I’m going out for a smoke,” I mutter and back away, into the crowd.
“Um, I think I’ll join you. I’m—”
“Tell me something, Cass.” Shane steps around the pool table and inserts his tall body smoothly between her and me. “Do you play pool? Wanna bet I can beat you with one arm tied behind my back?”
What the hell, is that line supposed to work? I walk away quickly, before she sidesteps him and comes after me, but a look over my shoulder shows her with a cue in one hand.
What do you know… Maybe she’s shifted her focus to Shane? Chicks often seem fascinated by his long hair and exotic features.
Feeling sorry for Shane, I shove between people, earning a few shoves back. I make it to the back entrance of the bar and step out, onto the street, patting my pockets for my smokes.
The night is warm. Wait, scratch that, not warm. It’s oppressively hot, even more so than inside Halo. No breeze, and the sky is overcast. I walk the few feet to the sidewalk bench and light up.
I don’t notice Seth has followed me until he drops down on the bench beside me with a sigh.
“Goddammit, man.” I almost choke on the smoke in my lungs. “Scared the bejesus out of me.”
I offer him a smoke, and he takes it, borrows my lighter and lights up.
“So what’s up?” I run a hand over my short hair. “I see you also made your escape from her clutches.”
He keeps the cigarette between his fingers but doesn’t draw on it, just stares into the distance.
Huh. “Everything okay?”
“Cassie’s a nice girl,” he says.
O-kay. “Sure she is. I never said—”
“Fuck. Forget it.” He takes a pull from the cigarette, lets the smoke out. “Who the hell cares anyway what she’s like?”
I frown at my hands hanging between my knees, the embers at the tip of my smoke glowing. “You, obviously.”
Duh.
It’s his turn to choke on smoke. “Screw you, J.”
I snort and wipe sweat from my eyes. “Get in line, buddy.”
Finally I get a laugh out of him, and I lean back, the tension leeching out of my shoulders. “Well, you’re a manslut, J. Why are you surprised girls assume you’re game for anything fun?”
Ouch. I don’t know why it smarts to hear Seth of all people say this to me. It’s not the first time I’ve been called a whore—God, not the first time at all—but mostly it’s from people who mean nothing to me, not one of my friends. Not the guy about whose health I worry and whose chores I did this morning.
“Fuck you, too,” I mutter, throwing the stub of my cigarette to the ground and rummaging in my pocket for the pack. “You know nothing about me.”
He shakes his head and smirks. “I know enough.”
Yeah. Damn. “Bullshit.”
“I know you hate cleaning the shop. You love hotdogs and burgers, all that’s greasy. You have no clue how to deal with money, or the fact you got a steady income and a roof over your head.”
“Yeah, cut out the love talk now. One might think we’re dating or something.”
“Hard not to notice stuff.”
“And your point is?”
“You need to realize it’s true, J.”
“What’s true?”
&
nbsp; “All of it. The roof, the money, the permanence of it. You’re off the streets.”
“And for how long? How can you think it will last, huh?” Dammit. I light my second cigarette and am horrified to find out my hands are trembling. “Fuck.”
“All I’m saying, man, is I’m right where you are. We gotta believe it and start living, you know?”
“No, I don’t know, so stop yakking. It was peaceful and quiet until you came out.”
An echo of the words Amber spoke to me when I last visited her. My gaze drops to the faded line on my wrist where my leather band used to be. It was there for years, and now I went and lost it. Fucking stupid how it hurts not to have it.
How it matters when it’s just a thing. You’d think I lost a friend. But it was a friend who gave it to me, and it was the last piece of her I had. Now I got nothin’.
“What do you know about Amber?” I ask, the words leaving my mouth before I can think, before I can wonder what she has to do with the darkness swirling in my mind.
“Amber? Ev’s friend?”
“You know more Ambers?” I say irritably, tapping a rhythm with my foot until I realize I’m doing it and stop.
Damn.
“Man, are you seriously hitting on Amber? She’s Ev’s best friend. One wrong move, Ev gets upset, Micah will break both your legs and arms. Not to mention Zane and Rafe.”
“Didn’t ask for your opinion.”
He laughs. “Right. Well, I don’t know much about her. Probably even less than you.”
Thank fuck he isn’t asking why I’m interested. “Humor me.”
“Well, she used to go to school here with Ev. Then her family moved to Chicago, and she only came back the day of the party. She’s thinking of studying design, Ev says. You know she makes jewelry.”
“I didn’t know.” I remember the pendant she wore at the party. Was that one of her pieces? I lean forward, more curious than ever. “Any reason why her family would move to Chicago?”
“Fuck if I know. Maybe her parents got jobs there?”
“Right.” Or the bullying got so bad they moved away. “That’s it?”
“Ev’s the person to ask if you wanna know more.” His gaze sharpens. “Chick really got under your skin, didn’t she?”
“She hates me,” I say, bitterness coating my tongue.
“She doesn’t hate you. She’s scared of you.”
Is she? Well, with good reason. “I frighten her and disgust her. How’s that any better?”
It comes down to the same. She doesn’t want me, and as for me… I can’t wait to see her again.
Chapter Nine
Amber
“I think I know what to wear at the wedding,” Ev says, sprawling on the couch and dumping her purse beside her with a heartfelt sigh. “I tried this white dress yesterday, I think it will be perfect.”
“A short dress?”
“Yeah, short and knitted. With beads.” She grins. “I think you’ll like it, you’re a bead person. What about you?”
A short dress is a surprise where Ev is concerned. Up until recently, she refused to wear anything short, refused to show the scars of surgery on her leg—the one her ex-boyfriend broke when he ran her over with his bike. She’d finally told me the story, after some prodding.
What a bastard.
“Don’t know yet.” What to wear—or even whether to go or not. I place the two mugs of steaming tea on the low table and sink into the chair across from her.
Ev’s eyes pop wide. “You kidding me. It’s in ten days, girl. When are you going to find something?”
“I know.” As if I could forget. My palms start sweating at the mere thought of another social event I’m supposed to attend.
“Hey, we can go shopping together!” She claps her hands together, eyes bright. “I know some cool shops. Time for you to get re-acquainted with your town.”
I pretend to think about it, while I recall my conversation with Jesse, and how he dreaded shopping. I wonder if he’ll pass by again to check if I found his leather band.
Here I am, thinking about Jesse, again, no matter how often I scold myself for it. There’s something about him that’s burrowing under my skin. I miss him. How can I miss someone I’ve only seen a handful of times?
“Have we met before?” He said that, and there’s a nagging familiarity about him, too, though I’m pretty sure I’ve never met him before returning to Madison.
This is crazy. Like something out of Lost. And it’s all in my mind.
“Amber.” Ev is waving her hands up and down, making faces at me. “Houston, come in.”
I shake my head and laugh at her antics. Silly girl. “But you already know what you’re going to buy.”
“I don’t mind tagging along to help you choose yours, girlfriend.” She sighs. “It’s good to have you back, you know.”
I eye her. She looks so much… sassier than she used to be. Confident. Strong. I want to be like her, I think—sure of myself, knowing what I need and with the courage to fight for it.
Having a slim, tight body like hers would help. Though I’m not chubby anymore, my curves are generous. Very generous. They aren’t easily contained, to be honest, and they make me self-conscious, especially in summer.
“You keep spacing out on me and I’ll start to worry.” She takes her mug and blows on her tea. “Or think you have a crush on one of the boys. You’ve been out of it since the party.”
Heat rises to my face. How can she read me so well after all this time?
“Oh my frigging God, I was right!” She squeals and for a moment I’m terrified she’ll tip the tea on her lap and burn herself. “It’s one of the boys, isn’t it? Who? Wait, don’t tell me.”
I discreetly roll my eyes.
“It can’t be Shane. You were appalled at his manners. Seth?” She leans toward me, peering at me closely. I stick my tongue out at her. “Nah. Too quiet. Too much like you.”
“Whatever,” I say, but a chill runs down my spine.
“That leaves Ocean. He’s funny and nice all around. If you set your sights on him, I have no objections.”
“Okay, good to know.”
I wait for the next one, but she just sips at her tea. After a long moment, she looks up and lifts her copper brows at me. “What?” Her eyes narrow. “Wait…Not Jesse. Not the manwhore.”
“I haven’t said anything”
“Yeah, only your eyes lit up like fireworks when I mentioned his name. You don’t even like the guy!”
“Never said I do.” I stare into my tea. “Why are you so set against him?”
“Because he is… Have you listened to a word I’ve said? The man is a slut. He has screwed half the town.”
“You’re telling me the others haven’t? Micah exempted, of course,” I hurry to add when she scowls.
“Well, I wouldn’t know. They don’t parade their conquests at every party. They try to be discreet. I don’t think Jesse would know the meaning of the word discreet if it bit him in the face.”
No bit surprises there. “What’s his story anyway? Kayla didn’t know to tell me, said to ask you.”
“Oh God…” She plunks her mug on the table, toes off her sandals and gathers her legs under her. “You got it that bad, do you?”
I don’t reply. I won’t dignify her words with an answer.
“Jesse…” She sighs again, and what’s up with that? It’s like I’m tiring her. “He doesn’t really talk about his past. But I overheard Zane tell Dylan how he found Jesse more than a year ago, on the street. He’d been a real mess, He had… a fresh tattoo on his chest, badly made and infected.”
I shudder. “What about his family?”
“No family, apparently, and he said his only friend was gone. He’d escaped from a group home. Or transition home. No idea. Zane somehow saw an artist in him and took him on as his apprentice.”
No family. No home. His friend gone. “The leather band was given to me by someone who meant a lot to me. L
ater I lost her, and that’s all I have left of her.”
“Doesn’t mean all he said was true,” Ev says.
“But it could be.”
“Yeah, it could. Anyway…” She picks up her mug again and her mouth twists. “Too late to convince you not to have a crush on him, right?”
“I don’t have a crush on him. Why do you say that?” I push my hands into the back of the arm chair, between the cushion and the back. My fingers curl around something thin and rough.
“Are you seriously asking me that?” She snorts. “You’re funny, Amber, you know that?”
“Why does everyone assume I have a crush on Jesse? I don’t. I’m just curious.”
And that’s all there is to it, I think as I pull out a worn and battered string of leather from the back of the chair.
Jesse’s leather band.
***
Standing in front of Jesse’s door, I shift from foot to foot in my flat sandals and tug on the hem of my blue summer dress with one hand.
The other clutches the worn leather band. I lift it, inspect one last time the faded letters inked on one side. ‘Helen’.
I’d guessed she was the one who gave the bracelet to him, but it was still a small shock to see her name there. So far she’d been a whispered name, a vague reference.
She’s real. Or was?
So many questions torturing my mind, lying on the tip of my tongue, waiting to spill out. But when the door finally creaks open and Jesse is standing in front of me, half-naked and drop-dead gorgeous, they evaporate into thin smoke.
“Embers?” He lifts a dark brow, and I try to unstick my tongue from the roof of my mouth.
Kind of hard with all that muscled, male, inked flesh in full display in front of me. He’s shirtless, and oh God, I’d forgotten his nipples are pierced. The silver hoops threaded through the small brown nubs gleam. His bare chest is sculpted and hard, from his pecs to the cut abs and the fine dark trail of hairs leading into the waistband of his gray jogging pants.
Sweat glistens on his skin, on the colorful ink covering his arm, the swirls and lines dipping from his left shoulder down to a defined pec. A demon is tattooed there, stylized wings and a monstrous head, fading into the purple and blue of other, older-looking tats. And then of course there’s the cobra I noticed on his arm the other day.