by Unknown
Crashing Into You
by
B.D. Rowe
Copyright © 2013 by B.D. Rowe
License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Chapter 1
James pushed himself against me and slammed my back against the door. I gripped his belt with my left hand, and his ass with my right.
“Is your car unlocked?” I asked.
He set his hands against my hips, and kissed the bottom of my neck. “Yeah. What are you waiting for?”
I reached for the door handle. Pressed my fingers against three different places.
“You need some help?” he asked, with a chuckle.
“No, no. I got it.”
My fingers touched what I thought was the handle. I tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge.
James kissed the edge of my shoulder, and took a step back. “Uhh, Sydney. That’s the gas tank.”
I finally turned my head. I brought my hand to my mouth and laughed out loud. “Oh, oops.”
“I think someone's had one too many tonight,” he said, with an exaggerated raise of his eyebrow.
“Shut up. I didn't have that much.” And it was true. I’d only had mixed drinks. Four, maybe five. I had a slight headache, but nothing to ruin the night over.
“Good,” James said. “I wouldn’t want to take advantage.”
“Yeah?”
I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him closer, deeper. I kissed his peppermint lips, then dipped my tongue into his mouth, for one tantalizing second.
I smiled, and pushed my forehead against his. “But I want you to.”
My fingers found the door handle, no problems this time. I pulled it open, and dropped down against the back seat of his Jeep Wrangler.
He was on top of me before I had a chance to catch my breath. My hands found his chest and the soft tuft of hair right below his belly button. He tried to look suave as he took off his shirt—but his right arm got stuck, and he almost fell off the seat.
I laughed. “Now who’s the one who had too much to drink?”
“I didn’t… I’m fine.”
Fine, my ass. I wasn’t stupid. I saw him taking shots of that silver tequila like it was ice water.
He pulled the shirt over his head, with way too much difficulty, and threw it on the passenger seat. He ducked down and ran his tongue along my neck, all the way up to my right earlobe. It was so warm and comforting. I didn't want him to stop.
When he came up for air, I scooted out from under him and switched places. I sat on his chest, reached back, and grabbed hold of his belt.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, with a knowing grin.
I leaned down and whispered into his ear, “Anything I fucking want.”
I pulled the belt right off, no hiccups, no struggles. I dangled it above his face, and dropped it to the floor.
Was this supposed to feel daring? James and I had made love before, but never in a car, never out in the open. I thought I might keep darting my eyes toward the windows, or feel my heart trying to beat its way out of my chest. Instead, as James brought his hands to my hips, a wave of relaxation washed over me, like no harm could ever come to us, to what we had together.
I reached back and pulled his zipper down. He sat up, moved his hands up to my hair. He stopped, only for a second, and looked into my eyes.
“I love you, Sydney.”
“I love you, too,” I said.
He took off my shirt and kissed me on the mouth, hard, for a full minute. He brushed his lips against my cheeks, and my chin, then ran his tongue down to my breasts.
I leaned my head back, stared up at the ceiling. “Oh God,” I said. “James...”
“Does that feel good?”
“Oh God, it feels amazing... it feels so—”
Knock knock.
On the window.
I screamed, and James shouted an awkward, “What the shit?”
I glanced at the window behind me. The figure knocked on it again. A police officer.
“Oh crap,” I said. I grabbed my shirt up off the floor and pulled it over my head.
“Open the door, please.” He knocked a third time.
James put his shirt back on, too, as I turned around and did as the officer said.
“Uhh, hello,” I said.
“Evening.” He looked mid-thirties, and seemed pleasant. He wasn’t some crusty old man looking to destroy my happy night. “What are you two doing in there?”
“We were just… talking,” I said.
He shined his light on the carpet, on the belt. “Oh really?”
“That’s right,” James said. Then he glanced at where the light was aimed.
“Will the two of you step out of the car, please?”
I rolled my eyes. Someone who seemed pleasant and someone who actually was were two different things. I stepped out of the Jeep first. Tried my best not to stumble.
James and I put our backs to the car, and the officer shined the light on our faces.
“You two been having some fun tonight?” he asked, not like a question, but like a statement.
“No,” James said. “We don’t believe in fun.” He laughed, for the hundredth time that night. I elbowed him in the side. This was not the time to be stupid.
The officer stepped closer to us, then shined the light solely on James. “How old are you?”
He bit down on his tongue and glanced at me, like he didn't know if he was supposed to lie. “Eighteen,” he finally said. Good. The truth.
“Yeah? You have anything to drink tonight?”
He put on his serious face. “No, officer. Of course not. That's against the law, as you well know.”
“Are you going to be drinking anything tonight?”
“No, officer.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I have to be sure. I want you to say the alphabet for me, all right?”
“Sure, no problem,” James said.
The officer turned off his flashlight. “I want you to say the alphabet backward.”
James just stared at him. He had to think on it for a moment. I tried not to freak out, but I wanted to grab James's hand and run. “Uhh,” James started. “Z. Y. X. T. Oh wait, I mean, W—”
A loud crash erupted in the distance. I almost screamed again, but the officer’s hand went straight for the gun and I didn’t want him to shoot me.
“What was that?” he said. He turned to his right. Another crash.
I looked past him. Four of the partygoers at Tomas's house stumbled out to the front porch, laughing like idiots, and throwing empty liquor bottles against the concrete.
“Hey!” the officer screamed. “Hey you, over there!” He ran away from us, past the Jeep, all the way to the front of the house. When they saw him coming, the four boys raced back inside.
“Holy shit, it's the cops!” one of the boys shouted. I didn’t recognize his voice. I didn’t have a chance to try.
James opened the driver’s side door and screamed, “Get in! Get in now!”
“What?” I briefly hesitated.
“Before he comes back! It's our
only chance, hurry!”
I jumped into the passenger seat and shut the door. I didn’t think twice about it. I didn’t want that cop to come back and take us both to jail—and I didn't want James to be angry with me.
He turned on the ignition and took off down the neighborhood street. I put on my seat belt, crossed my arms, tried to relax. He turned onto another street, then pulled onto Arlington. It was a 35 MPH zone and he was going at least 50.
“Slow down,” I said.
“I can’t, not until we're far enough away. He might have called in back-up.”
Again, I didn't want to disagree. “Yeah, you're probably right.”
“Shit, that was close! Do you know how close that was?”
“I know it was, but… James…”
“We are so fucking lucky. We could have gone to jail, Sydney.” He grinned at me, and reached for my hand. I took it. “So. You wanna go back to my place?”
I glanced at the speedometer. He’d slowed down to 40. I smiled. Everything was going to be fine. “That sounds perfect.”
He kept his eyes on me, really looked at me for a moment. “You know how much I love you, right?”
I tightened my grip on his hand. “I do. And I…” I looked out the windshield. “James, look out!”
“What?”
“The light's red!”
A Volkswagon Beetle pulled into the intersection. I saw the little boy’s face in our headlights, seconds before we hit. He was nine. His name was Kyle.
James shot through the windshield, just catapulted from the car like a ball out of a cannon. The seat belt jerked me back, and I screamed, for the last time, when the Jeep flipped onto its side and spun off the road into a dark ravine.
Chapter 2
I sat up in bed, and tried to catch my breath. I turned to the window. The faintest hint of light emanated from beyond the bluff.
I grabbed my phone. It was 5:30. I didn’t have class for three and a half hours.
I rested my head back against the pillow but couldn’t fall asleep. It had been weeks since I dreamed of that night; I thought I had finally put it behind me.
But I knew the truth. That night would be with me forever.
I rolled out of bed and tiptoed to the bathroom. I shut the door quietly. I didn’t want to wake up Melanie.
My shower must have lasted thirty minutes. Every time I closed my eyes, I pictured James, right before we hit. He had no idea what was coming. Not a second to react before he was killed, instantly.
I couldn’t believe it had been more than two long years since that night. So much had changed, about me, about my life. Then again, some things were exactly the same.
I got dressed. Surfed the web on my laptop for a bit. Read over my presentation for sociology class one more time.
When I left the dorm at 8:15, Melanie was still asleep. I shook my head as I walked into the hall; that girl could sleep for fourteen hours if she wanted to.
I stepped out of McCarthy Hall, my sophomore dorm building that looked out over Marina Del Rey and the Pacific Ocean, and I headed down to U-Hall, the mall-like three-story building at Loyola Marymount University that housed classrooms, the mail room, and a stadium-like auditorium.
The place stretched as far as the eye could see; a person burned a thousand calories just walking from one side of the building to the other. I went down the escalator, checked my mail (empty, as usual), and headed down to the food court, where I bought a plain vanilla yogurt and a small green apple.
I normally wouldn’t have gone to the U-Hall food court so early in the morning. I would have tried to get an extra hour of sleep back in the dorm, and waited until after my class to enjoy a proper meal.
But I changed up my routine this semester because it allowed me to spend more time with him. Tall, sexy, and sadly unattainable, he was the one I craved. He was the one I wanted to be mine.
Evan Taylor, my roommate’s boyfriend.
I scouted the indoor seating area. I didn’t see him anywhere. It was pretty quiet inside, especially for a Friday; it appeared the student body had already put a jumpstart on their summer vacation.
I sighed, happily, when I saw him sitting outside, by the fountain. He had his feet up on a table, an iPad Mini in his hands. He wore a tank-top, and swim trunks. His large sunglasses masked too much of his face.
“Hey you,” I said, when I stepped out the door.
“Hey Syd, you’re late,” he said, and brought his feet down to the ground. “You’re usually here before me.”
“I know.”
“Did you sleep in?”
“No. I’ve been up since 5:30.”
He set his iPad on the table and brought his elbows down. “Mel didn’t wake you, did she?”
“No. Why?”
“We were out pretty late last night.”
I opened my yogurt. It was runny at the top. “No, she was asleep when I left. A dream woke me up.”
“A dream?”
“Uhh, yeah.” I wanted to slap myself. What compelled me to bring that up?
“What kind of dream?”
“Well, it was more of a nightmare.”
“Oh.” He picked up his Gatorade, opened it with one quick twist of his fingers. “Did you have a nightmare about leprechauns? Those wake me up constantly.”
I laughed. “No. Nothing like that.” I needed to change the subject. I hadn’t even given Melanie all the details about that tragic night, let alone Evan. She knew I was in a car accident my senior year of high school, but that was all. “I think I’m just worried about my presentation.” I took a bite of the yogurt. It was warm, so I set it down. “I don't feel very prepared.”
“Nah, you’ll be fine. I barely worked on mine, and I got an A. He’s not grading these very hard, you know that.”
“He better not be. I bombed the midterm.”
“You’ll be fine,” he repeated. “I promise.” He grasped my hand, without a warning, then took off his sunglasses and gazed into my eyes. I breathed in, deeply. The sun behind me shined the perfect light on him.
He looked like he had jumped straight out of a catalogue, like he was one of the new models of J Crew. His face had a mesmerizing depth, with sturdy cheekbones that made him look like a man, and adorable little dimples that turned him back into a kid. His eyes were sky blue, and his hair was a soft, thick brown that had cute little curls above his neck. He was a swimmer, so his body was lean and strong. And his lips were red and robust; he was so damn kissable that every time I sat next to him I had to refrain from asking the forbidden question, “I know you're dating my roommate, but would you care to make out?”
“Syd?” he asked. He dipped his head a little. “You okay?”
I blinked, twice, and looked away from him. “Uhh, yeah, why?”
“You disappeared for a second there.”
“I did?”
“I mean… you got quiet.”
I pulled away from him, and put my sociology binder on my lap. “Sorry. I guess I'm just nervous.”
He leaned back in his chair, and gazed up at the sky, like he was deep in thought. He was so comfortable with me that sometimes I wondered if he wanted me just as much as I wanted him. Did he have any clue what I felt about him? Did he know I wanted him, and his body, his very naked body?
As soon as I thought it, I put it out of my mind. I could never do that to Melanie.
A few minutes passed. We didn’t say much. I looked over my index cards. Took a few bites of my apple.
“It’s 8:55,” Evan said. He grabbed his backpack and jumped up from his chair. He was six foot four, a giant next to me, although at five foot seven, I wasn’t exactly a shrimp—I was still three inches taller than Melanie. “We should get going.”
“Okay.” I grabbed my binder, pushed my chair in. I didn’t have to throw out my yogurt or apple core, because Evan did it for me. “Oh, thanks.”
“No problem. So you have any plans for the weekend?” He opened the door for me, just like h
e always did. He was such a gentleman.
“Probably just studying for finals. What about you?”
“Oh come on, you’re not gonna have any fun?”
“I’m sorry I’m not as smart and perfect as you, Evan, but some of us have to work to get good grades.”
He shot me a dirty look. “Hey, I study.”
“Oh really?”
“Yes.”
“Then how come I never see you in the library?”
We headed up the stairs. Our sociology class was on the second floor.
“Maybe I study somewhere else,” he said. “Maybe I like to go off on my own once in a while. Ever think about that?”
We reached the classroom. With one minute to go, the room was packed. I’d been hoping half the kids would have called in sick today, but alas, it was too good to be true.
Evan opened the door for me, again. He was so sweet. Too sweet. What was his flaw? It was a question I asked myself time and time again. He had to have one.
I immediately thought of two: he was already taken, and he would never want to be with me.
I frowned, and looked up into his hypnotic eyes.
“Some of us aren’t always what we seem, Syd,” he said. “I would have hoped you’d figured that out by now.”
And with that, he took his seat in the back of the room. I was all alone, and didn’t have Evan to protect me any longer. The long hand on the clock hadn’t even hit the 12 yet, and Mr. Hernandez was already waving me to come forward.
I gulped, loudly.
And headed toward the front of the classroom.
Chapter 3
Polite applause broke out in front of me. Had it already been ten minutes? I felt like I’d only said four sentences.
“Nice job, Sydney,” Mr. Hernandez said, and turned to the students. “Does anybody have any questions before we move on?”
“Yeah, I have a question.” The voice came from the center of the room. Todd Langdon. The insipid jock. The one who did his presentation on how the Kardashians and Snooki are healthy to society.
I set my index cards down. “Uh huh?”
“Are you… insane?”