“I’m Chloe’s mom, Susan.”
Distracted, she introduced herself. “Nora Leslie.”
The woman hissed in a breath, stepping close. Her lips drew over her teeth like she was ready to bite her. “How dare you…”
“Mom, I told you.”
“Let’s go, Nora.” Apollo tried to pull Nora with him, but the woman’s hand shot out, fisting her shirt and snagging her hair at the same time.
“That’s enough,” He tried to get between them, but the woman pushed him.
“I don’t care if you’re innocent. As far as I’m concerned, you should have died with those kids. It’s because of you this happened!”
“Enough.” His dark hand covered the woman’s, attempting to pry her off Nora.
“Mom!”
“I…” Nora began.
As she was pulled closer, Nora saw the woman’s foundation had set into the lines around her eyes, highlighting, instead of hiding, the dark circles under her eyes. Yanking her again, Chloe’s mom tugged her hair, jerking her head to the side. She released her so fast, Nora fell forward and bounced off the side of a bread cart.
In a second, Apollo was there, scooping her up and rushing her out of the grocery store. She met the curious gazes of other shoppers, but turned her face into his chest.
Her mind swirled with the things the woman said to her. It didn’t matter if Nora hadn’t had an active role in the shooting. She was positive Nora’s presence alone was the spark causing Reid’s explosion.
A blast of cold air hit her and she realized, they were in the car. Apollo rolled the windows down. “It’s okay, Nora.”
No. It really wasn’t. She shivered and tried to hide her face in her hands, but he wouldn’t let her. He peeled them away and reached for her, his forehead touching her shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I’m sorry.”
She pulled her sleeve over her hand and wiped her eyes. Drawing back, Apollo’s dark eyes explored her face, his thumbs swiping at the tears on her cheeks.
“Breathe in with me,” he whispered. “Fill your belly.”
She tried to follow his directions. She closed her eyes, and focused only on the air. Her breath shuddered and caught at first, but Apollo’s words guided her. “In and out.”
His breaths paired with hers, and slowly she felt in control again. She opened her eyes to stare into his. They were so close, she could see his brown eyes flecked with gold.
Glancing down at her mouth, and then back to her eyes, he eased forward, ever so gently pressing his lips to hers.
Nora sighed, relaxing into him. His lips were soft, and he shaped them to her mouth, exploring them. He pulled back a little, dropping a kiss on one corner, and then another, and then on her closed eyelids until she was turning her face to catch his kisses. She traced his cheekbones with her fingertips, trailing them to his neck and then his shoulders.
Apollo’s lips covered hers again, this time with more confidence. She felt his tongue, warm and insistent against her lips, and she opened to him. The kiss changed. They both moved faster, their tongues tasting, chasing, dueling. Her breath came in quick pants, and she shifted her body, trying to get closer. One of his hands cupped her face, and the other skimmed her arm until he could lace his fingers with hers.
Slowly, they came apart, their lips reluctantly separating. She kissed him, quick touches against his skin until he rested his forehead against hers, his breath washing over her face.
Her tongue captured the taste left on her lips, and he gave a small groan before pulling back and leaning his head against the seat.
“I think it’s time we go home.” A wide happy grin came over his face. It made her smile even wider.
“What about groceries?”
She wanted to slap her hand over her mouth when his smile dimmed. “I’ll come back.” He checked his watch. “Ryan will be home for lunch, and I’m sure he’ll want to see you.”
She nodded, happy at the thought of seeing Ryan and basking in his patience and calm. A moment later, however, she felt a tiny niggle of uneasiness. She’d kissed Apollo, Ryan’s roommate and friend. A headache threatened, and she rubbed her forehead. She was afraid she’d just made everything more complicated.
Eleven
Confidence
Ryan was surprised by how anxious he was to see Nora. This morning Professor Bismarck told him Nora’s photo leaked to the press and he’d left for the police station after filing an injunction against the detectives. They couldn’t say anything else to the press, but he was afraid the damage was done.
Bismarck suspected it was a ploy to put more pressure on Nora, but to what end? She didn’t know anything. She hadn’t had contact with Reid before the shooting, hadn’t been aware of his plans, and hadn’t been complicit in them. Whatever it was the detectives hoped to gain by tarnishing her name was lost on both Bismarck and Ryan.
The front door closed and he rushed down the stairs. One look at Nora’s blotchy face and he feared the worst. “What the hell happened, Apollo?”
“It’s okay, Ryan. He didn’t do anything.”
Apollo’s hand went to Nora’s back and slid around her waist. He watched his actions with narrowed eyes. “Explain, please.”
“Later. Let me get Nora upstairs first. She needs to rest.” Ryan stepped forward, reaching out a hand to help her, but Apollo moved faster. He swept Nora into his arms and past him, forcing him to follow. Gently, he placed her on her bed. “Get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He watched as Apollo cupped her cheek in his hand and then leaned forward, giving her a soft kiss on the cheek. Something inside Ryan went taut and snapped. Things had changed between Apollo and Nora; their relationship had morphed from the friendliness he’d witnessed yesterday, to something deeper today.
And he was jealous. He wanted to kick himself for not telling Nora how he felt. For more than a week, he’d been the one she turned to for comfort. He was the one caring for her, but here was Apollo, stepping in to fill his shoes.
Another emotion followed on the heels of that jealousy: relief. Something happened today. He didn’t know if it had happened while they were home or in town, but whatever it was upset her, and Apollo’d had been there to support her. She was sad, but she was also protected. Every move his friend made was meant to shield Nora from hurt.
It didn’t mean Ryan was willing to concede defeat to Apollo, but he would have to explore the complexity of his feelings later.
“Are you okay?”
She shook her head, and winced. “I will be.”
“I hit the corner of the bread display.”
“Can I see?”
Nora pulled her shirt up. She’d taken off the bandages covering the bullet grazes. Scabs had formed over the cuts, but one was cracked and bleeding.
“Ouch.” He examined it closely. “Do you want a gauze pad?”
“It’ll stop in a minute. Can you hand me a tissue?”
“It’ll stick to it. Hang on,” Apollo said.
He left the room and came back with a tube of ointment and a gauze pad. He gestured for Ryan to move so he could sit next to Nora. He covered the scrape in antibacterial cream and then pressed the gauze against it. “There.”
“Thanks,” Nora said quietly.
Their gazes caught and held, and something sweet and meaningful passed between them.
“I wish I could stay,” Apollo said.
“I’ll see you later,” she said, as if trying to make him feel better.
Gesturing with his head for Ryan to follow him, Apollo stepped toward the door. “I’ll be right back.”
She shooed him away. “I’ll probably be asleep before the door closes, but you know where to find me.”
After closing the door, he followed Apollo’s retreating form into his bedroom. “What happened?”
He took his glasses off, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I took her out to breakfast where Cliff, you know, the guy with the stupid man-bun?�
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Ryan waved him off. “I know Cliff.”
“He asked Nora not to come back to the diner.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I was worried this would happen.”
“What’s going on? Why do they even know who Nora is?” Apollo put his glasses back on and crossed his arms. He seemed to swell with anger. It was a neat trick. When Apollo got mad; he got big.
Ryan pondered the best way to break the news to him and decided directness was the way to go. “The cops released her name and photo to the papers. Called her a person of interest.”
“What are you doing about it?”
He sat on Apollo’s bed and propped his elbows on his knees. “Filed an injunction, and then we’ll move to have the police make a retraction. Damage is probably done, though.”
“I’d say.” Apollo cracked the knuckles on each hand. “The diner and then the grocery store. If she stays in this town, it’s going to be difficult for her.”
“What happened at the grocery store?”
Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he checked something before sliding it back in. “We met one of the students. She told Nora about someone who died. Nora was comforting her when the girl’s mother came over. She grabbed Nora, pulled her hair and pushed her.”
“What?” Pacing back and forth to contain his agitation, he asked, “How? Why didn’t you stop her?”
“I tried. But a six foot tall black guy putting his hands on a white woman in a grocery store? It was all I could do to get between them.”
“At least you were there.”
“Yeah, but what if I’m not? I can’t…” He cracked his knuckles again before shaking out his hands. “I’d feel better if one of us could be with her all the time.” He gave voice to the very sentiment Ryan considered. “So…” His friend shifted from foot to foot awkwardly, and he raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. “I want to date Nora. Are you cool with that?”
He wanted to answer quickly, of course, but he couldn’t. His legs suddenly weak, Ryan sat. He shouldn’t have been surprised, but still, hearing the words made it real. If he was okay with it, then he had to sever whatever feelings, however under-developed, he had for Nora. It was the end of the them that could have been.
“It’s okay.” It had to be. “You take care of her.”
He did a little jump like his happiness had to manifest itself physically. “Yeah. Of course. Thanks, Ryan. I was afraid you had a thing for her.”
“I care about her,” he qualified. He wouldn’t say how much.
“You’ll stay with her? Check on her? I won’t be back until late.”
Ryan nodded. “My pleasure.”
Clapping him on the shoulder, Apollo grabbed his workout bag from the floor and then left. He listened until the heavy door slammed shut. Then he fell back on the bed, exhausted.
He wanted Nora. If only he’d acted faster, hadn’t been so ponderous. Apollo made his move and whatever it was, it pushed him out of the game.
Twelve
Waiting for Ryan
“Nora.”
Nora heard Ryan calling her but she didn’t want to move. She felt his hand on her arm. He stroked it lightly to her shoulder, then across her back and down to her waist.
“Nora.”
If he was trying to wake her, this was the wrong way to do it. His hand was warm, and its heat soothed tired muscles, relaxing her into the mattress. His fingers gently easing beneath her t-shirt made her skin pebble and shiver.
“Ryan,” she whispered. The room was dark and she could barely make out his face except for the slash of light forcing its way between the curtains. His eyes were black, and his face was tense, upset.
“What’s the matter?” she asked him, smoothing the wrinkle between his eyebrows. His eyes closed at her touch, his head tipping before his lips ghosted across the palm of her hand. Her eyes widened, but held his when he opened them.
He reached for her hand, linking their fingers. Holding their hands against the pillow, he shifted his body so he loomed over her.
All she could see were his eyes, the way they narrowed and then widened as her tongue wet her lips. He dipped toward her, and his hair fell over his forehead, hiding his blazing eyes from her. She lifted a free hand and pushed it back, letting her hand linger near his ear, tracing the shell before she outlined the cord in his neck, and then his collar bone and jaw.
“I want…” His voice broke. “I need to kiss you.”
She couldn’t find her voice to answer, so she nodded. She wanted that too, more than she wanted anything. She needed Ryan’s lips on hers, she needed him filling her senses until all she could feel and taste and see was Ryan.
He watched her for any indication it wasn’t what she wanted, his lips hovering above her lips. His features blurred, except for the green of his eyes.
Their lips touched then he drew back, waiting. He stayed there, one hand holding Nora’s in place, the other cupping her neck.
“Ryan.” Her voice was a plea, her desperation for him clear.
He smiled, and it was a Ryan smile: small, hesitant, rare, and while it warmed her, it also jangled, zinging her like an exposed nerve. His smile fired off a warning in her head, but she pushed it away, dismissing it.
Because these were Ryan’s lips, and eyes, and hands.
She couldn’t wait anymore and lifted her face to his. She didn’t let him draw away when he would have ended the kiss. Instead, she opened her mouth, and teased his lips. Like his name earlier, this was her plea, her entreaty for him to give her what she needed more than anything. She felt him groan, a vibration deep in his chest. She put her hand there, wanting to feel it. His skin was warm, and much harder than she expected.
She had a moment of surprise when she found he didn’t wear a shirt, but a moment later she forgot everything because he drew her tongue into his mouth, sucking on it lightly and then skimming the sides. Over and over he dipped, sucked and teased. She arched into him, wanting to feel more of his skin. Her fingers extended and contracted; he wouldn’t let go and she needed to touch him more. One hand wasn’t enough. There was more of him and she couldn’t get at him.
Pulling her lips away from Ryan’s, she moaned, “I need to touch you.”
His lips caught hers again, stealing her breath before he pulled away. “No. It’s too much.”
She used her free hand to trace the planes of his chest until her fingertips rested against the waistband of his sweatpants. He stopped kissing her, his quick pants breezing across her face. She dipped her hand beneath the pants, feeling the soft hair on his stomach and then she felt him: the hot, hard length of him. She twisted her hand, turning until she grasped him tightly. She groaned. She loved the way he felt in her hand. With her cupped hand she lingered along the smooth mushroomed head, and then pressed a finger against a vein as she pumped him once, slowly pushing toward his sac.
“Enough.” His voice was urgent.
It isn’t enough.
The hand he held tingled pins and needles like it’d fallen asleep. Still, she used it to clutch at his hands, fingers touching wherever she could reach, while her other hand held him firmly, lifting and falling along his length. If this was all she could have, then she would take every advantage she could find. His kisses slowed, and she caught her breath.
Their kisses were shorter now, a peck here, and taste there. Her hand ached uncomfortably. She needed to move from this position because it was distracting her from Ryan, and she didn’t want anything to pull her attention from him.
She felt a cramp and gasped, her eyes opening wide.
She was on her side, her hand beneath her pillow, and she was alone. No Ryan. She turned slowly to her back, shaking out her hand to restore circulation. Her body felt heavy and achy, but inside she felt empty.
It was a dream. There was no Ryan and no kisses.
There was a buzz at the back of her mind again, and she realized, there had been kisses, but they hadn’t been Ryan’
s kisses. They’d been Apollo’s, and they made her feel like she was skimming the clouds.
Closing her eyes, she tried to reclaim the feelings she had with Apollo. They returned, but they were colored by the memory, no, the dream, of Ryan’s. It was then, with the reality of Apollo and the dream of Ryan, she was a little more at ease.
Then came embarrassment, and shame. She dreamed of Ryan and fantasized about Apollo. It wasn’t fair to Apollo, who had actually kissed her. Ryan, on the other hand, never gave her any indication he was interested in her. He was caring and considerate, and probably aware of her hero crush.
She groaned, turning back on her side and sucking in a breath when she pressed against the newly opened scabs. There’s something wrong with me.
Thirteen
Manifestos and Matisse
Matisse hated it when people read over his shoulder. In this case, however, he had no one to blame but himself since he was the one who brought his computer to breakfast.
“What is a manifesto?” Gripping the back of Matisse’s chair, Seok leaned forward. His hair tickled Matisse’s cheek.
“It is a public announcement of someone’s beliefs.” Cai leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. “My father released manifestos all the time. ‘If it’s Thursday, it must be a manifesto.’”
Apollo snorted and propped his elbows on the table. “Are we showing Nora?” Matisse strained his ears, but he didn’t hear her coming.
“It’s her brother,” Seok replied. “She has a right to know what he said.”
“ ‘The source of social problems results from a: over socialization, b: restriction of freedom, and c: powerlessness.’ What is over socialization?” It taxed his brain, so Matisse looked to Ryan for an answer.
He leaned forward, reading, “It says to reference paragraph forty-two.”
Skimming the page, he found the forty-second bullet point out of the two hundred and fifty Reid made. He began to read to himself and then grunted. “It’s like a philosophy textbook. I have to diagram every sentence to make sense of his assertions.”
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