by Elicia Hyder
“You got your surprise. Now it’s my turn. I’ve got to earn the invite to that party, remember?” He winked across the cab at me.
He took the exit for Demonbruen Street and then turned down Twelfth Avenue. I recognized the new high-rise condos his company was building when he parked in a construction lot a few blocks up from Biscuit Love. “What are we doing here?” I asked, getting out of the truck.
He came around carrying my Sesame Chicken and his General Tso’s. “You’ll see. Come on.”
Using a digital keypad, he let us into the building. The ground floor was unfinished and dusty with steel beams and unfinished drywall. He pressed the button for the elevator. “It works?” I asked.
“Yeah. Even though it doesn’t look like it down here, the building is pretty close to being finished.”
The elevator doors opened and we stepped inside. Plastic lined the floor and was covered in dirt. He pressed the button marked Roof. We finally reached the top and walked through a short vestibule to a glass door that led outside. On the roof was a pool without any water and one lone folding table and a few metal chairs. But the view. Holy cow, the view. We could see all the way to the river, past the glittery lights of the downtown bar scene.
“Come on,” he said, taking my hand.
He deposited our food on the table, then led me over to the edge that was lined with a short concrete wall that came up to my chest. He stood close at my back, his warm breath tickling my ear, and a hand resting casually on my hip. His other hand pointed over my shoulder, drawing my attention to the Summit Tower off in the distance. “There’s your office building. And there’s the Schermerhorn Symphony Center, the new convention center, and the arena where the Predators play.”
“And the Batman Building,” I said, proudly pointing it out.
He laughed. “Yep.” He turned the other way. “There’s Music Row, and if you look really closely, you’ll see the statue of the naked dancing people in the middle of all those spotlights.”
“Naked dancing people?” I asked, straining my eyes to see in the dark.
“Yeah. Nashville’s weird sometimes.”
A chilly breeze blew over the rooftop, and West pulled me closer as I took in the panoramic view. Finally, I turned back to look at him. “Thank you for this. It’s beautiful up here.”
His smile was soft, and he tucked my still unfrizzy hair back behind my ear. “Beautiful,” he whispered. Then he slipped his fingers under my chin and tilted my face up, slowly lowering his lips onto mine.
The kiss was gentle and soft until his tongue parted my lips. Then he drew my whole body against his solid form and raked his fingers back through my hair. Every sane and rational thought in my brain fizzled away as my fingertips traced the hard muscles across his shoulders, all the way up the back of his neck.
Then he broke away, resting his forehead against mine. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.” His voice was low and husky.
I hadn’t realized my eyes had closed until they reopened and I saw him smiling.
“Ready to eat? Our food’s getting cold,” he said.
“I don’t even care,” I answered and kissed him again.
It was close to midnight and raining when we arrived back in front of my apartment building. I turned to him in the cab when he shut off the engine. “You don’t have to walk me up, West. There’s no sense in both of us getting soaked.”
“And miss the chance of kissing you goodbye at the door? Not a chance, girl.” He pointed to the two Minions sitting between us. “But first, it’s time for a custody battle. Which one are you taking?”
My mouth fell open. “I want both!”
“Well, you can’t have both. You can keep one here, and the other you’ll have visitation rights to at my house.”
I crossed my arms. “I don’t even know where you live.”
“I live in Brentwood, not far from here. You can come visit him anytime you want.”
“I want Stuart.” I picked up the one-eyed Minion and hugged him to my chest. I patted Kevin’s head. “But I love you too.”
He laughed. “Now that that’s settled. Are you ready?” He nodded toward my building.
“I’m ready.”
We were both soaked and laughing by the time we reached the covered steps that led up to my floor. “Sixty percent chance of rain, my ass. It’s like a monsoon out here,” West said over the loud rain. He ran his fingers through his hair, sending water droplets flying in every direction.
His shirt was drenched and clinging to his chest. My eyes drifted down the distinct center line of his torso. He laughed softly, and I jerked my gaze up to meet his.
“Sorry,” I said, covering my face with my hand.
He pulled my hand away. “Don’t ever apologize for looking at me that way.” He pushed my drenched hair back off my shoulders. A fat raindrop drizzled from my hairline, down the side of my face to my neck. His eyes trailed it until they fixed on my collarbone, his teeth gripping his lower lip. He inhaled a sudden shaky breath, then blew it out slowly before motioning up the stairs. “Shall we?”
My brain raced as he followed me to my front door. Do I invite him in? Do I force him back out into the rain? Will he think I’m using the rain as an excuse if I—
“Lucy, what happened to you?” His finger hooked into the back of my sweatshirt that was sagging with the weight of the rainwater.
I looked back at the bruising on my shoulder. “It’s nothing. Old bruises. I fell a while ago.”
He traced the outline of the massive bruise, sending a chill down my spine. “It looks really bad.” He pulled the shirt down even lower.
I gathered the neckline of my sweatshirt up to my chin and turned around to face him. “West Adler, if I didn’t know better, I would think you were trying to peek down my shirt.”
His brow wrinkled with a scowl. “I worry about you.”
“That’s sweet.” I released my grip on the collar, letting the wet fabric slide back down my skin. Again, West’s eyes followed. This time, we were at my door. “Do you want to come in? Wait till the storm passes?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed with a forced swallow, and his eyes were still fixed on my damp chest. “That’s probably not a good idea. I think I need to say goodbye here and go stand in the cold rain for a while before driving home.”
I laughed. “Fair enough. I appreciate your honorability.”
He finally met my eyes. “It’s all an act, I assure you. Because there is nothing honorable happening in my head right now.”
Taking a small step toward him, I put my purse and Stuart down by the door, then looped my arms around his neck. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Enter, Evil Lucy.
He shook his head and slid his arms around my waist. “You have no idea how much of a compliment. I thought you were beautiful before, but now I want it to rain on every date we ever go on. Hell, I might drive you through the carwash with the windows rolled down just for the view.”
My nails lightly scraped the back of his neck, triggering a shudder that rippled through him. He closed his eyes and took another forcefully slow, deep breath.
Yes, it was mean of me. I knew exactly what I was doing. He was fighting so hard to be a gentleman, and there I was tampering with the launch button. On purpose. But how could I not? It had been so long since any man had trembled at my touch—and never one this handsome. This tempting. This delicious.
He wedged his hand between us, his palm up and his eyes still closed. “Give me your keys. Quick.”
Confused, I retrieved my keys from my purse, then placed them in his open palm. He immediately tossed them down the hallway back toward the stairs, and they clanged against the concrete floor. Before I could ask or figure out why, his mouth crashed onto mine and my back was against the door. His rock-hard body, every single inch of it, pressed into me.
Cool raindrops mixed on our lips as we kissed, then his fingers tangled in my wet hair and pulled my head ba
ck to expose my neck. A small moan escaped my throat as he kissed it, his lips tugging and nipping at the flesh that had so effortlessly captured his attention.
Then his hands slid forward and cradled my jaw as his lips came down hard and hot against mine again. His tongue fluttered against the tip of mine, a tantalizing move that spun my mind to very dark and dangerous places.
It was then that I found my hand on the doorknob, twisting and turning hopelessly against the secured lock. The damn keys was the only coherent thought in my brain.
West splayed his hands against my door and finally tore his mouth from mine, leaving my lips raw and bruised and desperately wanting more. “I…have…to go,” he panted against my ear. “But good god, I don’t want to.”
I released the two fistfuls of his shirt that I hadn’t realized I was gripping. “Please don’t leave me.” My voice was a breathy whisper.
He shook his head. “Don’t say that, Lucy, or I won’t.”
I threaded my fingers up through his hair, drawing his face back closer to my own. “Don’t go.”
He kissed me again, his tongue gently tangling with mine as one arm snaked around my waist, plastering my hips against his body. Then he suddenly pulled away and walked down the hall. I heard the jingle of my keychain around the corner from the alcove that shrouded the door. My heart throbbed against my ribs.
When he returned, he handed me the keys and picked up Stuart and my purse. My hand trembled as I tried to put the key into the lock, and West put his hand on mine to steady it.
When the door was open, I stepped inside, but West didn’t follow.
I turned around, and he handed me my things, carefully eyeing the threshold like it was the Bridge of No Return. My shoulders slumped as I hugged Stuart to my chest.
“Come here,” West said quietly.
I stepped forward, and he slipped a strong hand back behind my head.
“Soon,” he said, studying my eyes. “Very soon.”
Then he kissed me and walked away.
Fourteen
“He’s too perfect,” I told Olivia at practice the next day. We were warming up together on the track, letting the All-Stars and the Rising Rollers dart around us like obstacles.
She turned backward on her skates so she could face me. “I hate to say it, but I kind of agree with you. What guy gets that hot and heavy and then leaves?”
“My point exactly.” I skated up beside her. “I mean, nobody’s that noble.”
“What do you think’s wrong with him?”
I shrugged. “I really don’t know, but I can’t get the question out of my head.”
“It could be nothing, Lucy. Perhaps the universe thinks it’s time for you to have something great in your life.” She sighed and shook her head. “After all you’ve been through, I’d say you deserve it.”
“Thanks, but it’s easier for me to believe he has a brain defect or that he’s really a serial killer.”
She laughed. “Maybe you need therapy. What happened after he left?”
“He went home, and we texted till three o’clock this morning. I heard you come in around one.”
“What did you guys talk about all night?”
“Everything and absolutely nothing.” I started to count on fingers. “His favorite movie is Legends of the Fall. He thinks Matchbox Twenty is the best band that’s ever recorded music. And he likes to read, but only funny stuff like Shit My Dad Says and anything by Tucker Max—though he made me swear to never tell his mother.”
“Classy,” she said.
“And we talked a lot about that kiss.” My legs quaked thinking of it. “At one point, I thought he might drive back over to our apartment and finish the job.”
“It was that good?”
I held my hands up. “So good it makes me question his morality.”
She burst out laughing.
“Hey, Lucy,” someone said behind me. It was Full Metal Jackie. “How’s your shoulder?”
I groaned. “Ugh. The bruises still haven’t healed from last week, and I’m afraid almost all your arnica cream is gone. If you’ll tell me where I can buy it, I’ll get you a replacement.”
She put her hand on her stomach. “I won’t be needing it, remember.”
I smiled. “Oh yeah.”
When she was gone, I looked at Olivia. “He saw them last night. The bruises.”
She playfully slapped my arm. “You didn’t tell me you were getting naked in the breezeway!”
“Naked?” Zoey asked, joining us on the track. “Who was getting naked?”
Olivia pointed at me.
“I didn’t get naked. It’s a wide-neck shirt. It got wet and sagged off my shoulders.”
“What did he say?” Olivia asked.
I clasped my hands together, smiling. “That he worries about me.”
Olivia put her hands on her hips. “I say that all the time, and you usually hit me.”
“It wasn’t quite the same tone.”
Shamrocker blew her whistle. “Fresh Meat bitches, huddle up!” She was talking to all of us, not just the actual Fresh Meat group which had continued to dwindle over the grueling weeks of training.
“Think they’re done punishing us for the All-Stars being off their game?” I asked Olivia quietly as we skated over to join our group.
“Not hardly. All four weeks, you heard Medusa,” she answered.
I looked around. “Where is she?”
Olivia shrugged.
“The actual newbies have 27 in 5s today,” Shamrocker announced. “If you’re a veteran, pick a newbie for whom you can count laps.”
Groans and murmuring echoed around the room from the newbies. Me, mostly.
“We’re going to use both tracks so we can get these done as quickly as possible. Styx will keep time on Track A.” Shamrocker held up her stopwatch. “I’ll keep time on Track B. If you’re not counting, get your gear off and get lined up on the wall. That includes the newbies once you’re finished with your time trials.”
“Get our gear off?” I asked Olivia to make sure I’d heard her correctly.
She shrugged.
Olivia, Zoey, and I lined up beside each other with the first group of skaters on Track A. Olivia bumped her fist against mine. “You can do this, Lucy. Keep your knees bent, breathe, and keep pushing.”
Kraken was going to count for me. She flashed me a thumbs-up from the sidelines. Olivia’s words replayed in my head. You can do this, Lucy.
The whistle blasted.
Olivia lapped the rest of us by lap number four, but I ignored her and kept going. My ankles no longer burned since the blisters had hardened into callouses. And my lungs felt bigger, able to hold more power-boosting oxygen.
“Five!”
“Six!”
“Seven!” Kraken called. “Good job, Lucy!”
I pushed through the corners, keeping low when I entered and skating to the outside coming out of the turns.
“Eight!”
“Nine!”
“Ten!”
“Eleven!”
“Twelve!”
I passed Zoey. She was breathing heavy, but she was still moving.
“Thirteen!”
“Fourteen!”
Styx’s arm shot into the air. “That’s halfway!”
Whoa. Really?
“Fifteen!” Kraken yelled.
“Sixteen!”
“Seventeen!”
“Eighteen!”
A stitch pulled in my side. Breathe in through your nose. Out through your mouth.
“Nineteen!”
Olivia flew past me again.
“Twenty!”
“Twenty-One!”
“Twenty-Two!
“Twenty-Three!”
“Twenty-Four!”
Stars began twinkling in the corners of my vision, and sweat dripped off my jaw. The stitch in my side was no longer held at bay by breathing tricks. My side constricted in pain. I needed to think about anything else. Fin
d a happy place.
West’s mouth on mine at the door.
Olivia came around my left again, nudging my arm as she passed. I smiled and pushed to catch her. I pushed harder and harder, into the turn, then sailing out of it.
“Thirty seconds!” Styx shouted.
“Twenty-Five!”
“Twenty-Six!”
The whistle blasted again. Two turns away from hitting twenty-seven laps.
Olivia spun around on her wheels, popping up onto her toe stops in a perfect tomahawk stop. She pumped her fists in the air and skated back toward me. “You did it, Lucy!” she cheered, slamming into me. We both toppled backward, falling in a heap, laughing.
“I didn’t do it,” I said, panting as she rolled off me. “I was half a lap short.”
She reached over and slapped my helmet. “Half a lap though!”
Zoey skated over, her chest heaving with ragged breaths. She clapped her hands. “Good job, Lucy.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“How many for you, Zo?” Olivia asked.
She put her hands on her hips. “Twenty-two. I’m getting there.”
I clapped my hands. “That’s excellent.” And it was. She’d beaten more than all of us combined.
Kraken came over and slapped me a high five.
“Hey!” Styx yelled. “Get off my track!”
We looked over. Styx was grinning, and she gave me a covert thumbs-up.
Olivia got up and skated off the track; I crawled off, but I didn’t care. Twenty-six-and-a-half. I’ll take it.
Grace got twenty-nine laps. Monica got twenty-six like me. Olivia, The Prodigy? Thirty-one.
Medusa walked in as the last of the newbies finished. She was wearing sneakers, short shorts, and a sports bra. Her black-and-pink hair was pulled up into a tight knot on her head, and she carried a sweat towel and a water bottle in hand.
“This isn’t good,” Olivia said as we pushed our gym bags to the corner of the room with everyone else. “Styx says she’s a personal trainer now and that she hates it when Medusa leads off-skates practice.”
“Crap.”
The torture began with sidestep jumping jacks and a hateful exercise called gate swings. Medusa rattled on about the importance of groin stretching and thigh strengthening until I wanted to throw my water bottle at her head. Then we did a series of yoga moves infused with cardio, body resistance, and self-loathing.