Never (The Ever Series Book 2)

by C. J. Valles

  She dies. The spy’s love dies in his arms. He couldn’t save her. The last image of the book haunts me: the hero standing over her grave. No revenge. Just defeat.

  The end.

  God! Could I have picked a worse book? I always thought the hero won in these types of books. But I was wrong. The hero doesn’t always win; he just survives. The sound of the doorbell makes my heart leap, and I look across the room at the clock. Seven-thirty exactly.

  “Perfect timing, Wren!” I mutter, slipping my heels back on and getting up.

  Blotting my eyes one last time, I take a few deep breaths and walk to the door. As soon as I open it, my breath catches, and I stare mutely at Alex. If I thought he couldn’t get any more beautiful, then I was wrong. The tie he’s wearing is almost the same color as his eyes, which seem to be glowing in their brightness. His suit fits his lean frame perfectly, and his face … I swipe at my eyes and try to stop staring.

  “I didn’t imagine you would be this upset to see me,” he says softly.

  I laugh, but it comes out like a hiccup.

  “It was the stupid book I was reading. I wasn’t expecting it to end the way it did.”

  “You didn’t like it, then?” he asks curiously.

  I shake my head.

  “No, I liked it, but the ending …” I sigh. “I wanted it to have a happy ending.”

  “Not everything does.”

  Alex holds out his hand, and I take it, shivering again. As we start walking, I concentrate on the steps ahead of me. Then Alex stops, and I look up at him questioningly.

  “You look beautiful, Wren.”

  “So do you,” I joke, reaching over playfully to poke him in the side.

  The muscles beneath his jacket are like steel, and I retract my hand awkwardly before I run my hands over his muscles like a lunatic. When I start walking again, I try to ignore the electricity in my veins.

  “Come on,” I scold. “If we keep pausing on the stairs, we’ll never make it to the dance.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Wait a second. After all this?” I demand, pointing to my dress and heels.

  “I wish for nothing more than the pleasure of your company and the opportunity to win your favor,” he says seriously as he opens the passenger door of his car.

  “You aren’t from this century, are you?”

  He smiles.

  “Funny, I’ve been accused of that before.”

  I sit down, and he closes the door after me. Something about what he just said—the opportunity to win your favor—echoes through me, like I’ve heard it before. Almost like Alex is reciting lines from a movie that I’ve seen. As hard as I try, I can’t figure out why his words feel so familiar. Looking for him, I jump when I see he’s already in the driver’s seat. Shaking my head, I laugh at my nerves and look out the window. We’re driving along when I lift my hand and point at the turn toward school.

  “You just missed the turn.”

  “We’re not going to the dance yet,” he says with a cryptic smile.

  “Then where are we going?”

  “Just a small detour.”

  I swallow apprehensively. This would not be a good time for him to turn into a crazy. Alex continues straight on Crown Valley before taking a right at the highway, and a few minutes later I see the sign for West Street. When he makes an impossible U-turn and finds a parking space right at the steps to the cove, I’m forced to seriously rethink my claim of being able to drive any vehicle better than he can. He comes around to my side and opens the door, and I point to my heels.

  “West Street? There are a million steps. I’ll break an ankle in these.”

  “You have my word as a gentleman that I will not let you fall.”

  He takes my arm, and I begin walking carefully toward the stairs. I remember holding my dad’s hand years ago during the trip when I nearly drowned. Taking the first step gingerly, I grip the handrail in one hand and Alex’s hand in the other. I take a few more awkward steps and then squeak as my feet come out from under me. Suddenly Alex is holding me in his arms, and I blush, trying to catch my breath.

  “That was taking too long,” he laughs.

  When he begins moving, he doesn’t seem the least bit off balance carrying the weight of an extra person in his arms, and as soon as we reach the bottom of the concrete stairs, he stops, ducking his head close to my ear.

  “Should I put you down now?” he asks softly.

  I swallow and nod, not trusting my voice. When he sets me down, I take off my shoes and he keeps a grip on my elbow as I pick up the hem of the dress and start walking toward the water. I veer left toward the cove. The sun has already dipped below the water, but the beach is just as pretty as I remember it. I smile, looking out at the water, feeling a surge of hope.

  “Why did you bring me here?” I ask curiously.

  “You said last weekend that this was your ultimate destination.”

  “You remember everything, don’t you?” I murmur.

  He nods.

  “Thank you.”

  “I am curious, though. Why this place?” he asks.

  I gesture toward the water.

  “I nearly drowned here as a kid.”

  When Alex laughs, it’s not in a mean way.

  “That seems an odd reason to come back.”

  I look down.

  “Yeah, I guess. I just needed to see it for some reason.”

  When he reaches out and touches my cheek with his fingers, the shock of contact makes me shiver. By the time I finally work up the nerve to I look up at him, he’s already looking away from me toward a person walking toward us from the other end of the beach. Embarrassed that I thought for one second that he was about to kiss me, I look out at the horizon one last time before starting the slow walk through the soft sand toward the stairs.

  “We should get to the dance,” I say quietly when he catches up with me.

  At the stairs, I keep my heels off and hike up my dress. For some reason, it’s way easier walking up the stairs than down. Or maybe it’s that I really can’t stand the thought of Alex carrying me again, because it makes me feel too vulnerable. Neither one of us says anything as we climb the stairs—much slower than Alex carried me down them—and when we reach the car, the drive to the school is quick—and silent. Alex looks preoccupied as he pulls into the student lot and parks. When he appears at my door, I take his hand gratefully, mostly because I’m worried about getting out without tripping over the heels, the dress, or both. He keeps hold of my hand, and I allow it only until I start seeing other students. Looking up at a banner for the dance, I swallow.

  New Beginnings

  Appropriate, but oddly melancholy. To me at least. Up ahead, I catch sight of Kayla and her group. Chris is standing next to her, and when we join them, I watch his expression sour. A second later, Kayla pounces on Alex, and I continue inside, trying to imagine what it would be like to be effortlessly outgoing and assume that guys were going to drop at my feet. I avoid the photographer and walk into the dance alone. As I look around for someplace unobtrusive to people watch, I grab a soda from the refreshment table. Seeing some empty tables at the back, I walk over quickly and sit down. For a second, I almost regret finishing my book … until I remember the ending. A shadow looms over me, and I look up at Alex, who’s holding out his hand authoritatively.

  “I never said I was going to dance,” I shrug. “And if you don’t go spend time with your fans, I will hurt you.”

  Alex nods.

  “I’ll be back for you.”

  I shiver at the way he peers down at me when he says that. The first few songs the DJ plays make me want to escape. Music can either make or kill the moment. Right now, it’s killing it.

  “Hey.”

  I look up as Kayla’s secret admirer sits down next to me with a dejected sigh.

  “Hey,” I say back with next to no enthusiasm.

  I’m not sure whether I’m relieved or annoyed to have Chris for company. I
guess unrequited love makes people obnoxious to be around. I mean, Romeo seemed like a depressed head case before he met Juliet. And Josh. … I miss Josh, and Taylor. And everyone else in Portland. The truth is, if Chris had been even moderately friendly the first time I tried talking to him, I would be more motivated to chat. I might even be sympathetic. Tonight, though, I’ve got problems of my own. Actually, I’ve got a problem, singular. Alex. I can’t fall for him. I just can’t. Part of me knows that I’m already dangerously close, but I have to cut off my emotions now … or risk getting hurt so badly that I never recover. I pull out my phone and look down. My mom’s probably at work, but she still hasn’t texted me back.

  “So, how come you’re not going out with what’s his face?”

  I turn and look at Chris indignantly.

  “Alex? Are you kidding me? I barely know the guy!”

  He snorts.

  “Not what it looks like to me. He’s seriously obsessed with you.”

  “Uh, huh. Right. And that’s why he’s dancing with Kayla,” I shoot back.

  Then I feel bad for rubbing it in Chris’s face.

  “No, he’s not,” Chris says, pointing.

  I turn and I watch as Alex approaches our table. Kayla and a few other couples are trailing behind. As Alex sits down next to me, Kayla sits on his other side, and Chris glares at me like Alex’s presence in his life, combined with Kayla’s fixation on him, is somehow my fault. I shoot him a look back, not feeling as bad about my earlier crack. The dance floor has started to fill up, and I don’t mind the next song so much. When a slow song comes on, I turn reluctantly to Chris.

  “You wanna dance?”

  I was hoping to sound at least slightly enthusiastic, but probably not. Chris looks confused for a second. Then he shrugs. As I walk toward the dance floor with him, I can almost feel the heat of Alex’s stare at my back. As we walk out onto the dance floor, I turn toward Chris and hold up my arms awkwardly before placing them on his shoulders. I’ve never actually done this before, and it feels way more awkward than it looks in the movies. It takes Chris a few seconds before he grips my waist limply. Most of his attention is still on the back of the room where Kayla’s sitting.

  “Chris,” I say in a sharp tone that causes his eyes to focus on me. “I hate dancing. Hate it.”

  He frowns and throws up his hands.

  “Then why—”

  “You’re trying to make her jealous. When this song is over, we’re going to go back over to that table, and you’re going to ask Kayla to dance. Got it?”

  He nods uncertainly and puts his hands back on my waist. He winces when I step on his foot by accident. I hope Alex saw Chris cringe in pain and now realizes how bad for his health dancing with me would be.

  “Thanks,” Chris says.

  I think he might actually be grateful, but probably more so because the song is ending soon, and I won’t be stepping on his toes with a sharp heel again. By the time we return to where the others are sitting, Kayla is talking to one of her friends—not Alex, who’s sitting there looking less than happy. Before I leave Chris, I give him a meaningful poke in the side. His abdominal muscles, I notice in embarrassment, didn’t feel nearly as rock solid as Alex’s did. Then again, the fact that I’m even comparing them is bad.

  I sit down next to Alex and watch as Chris summons his nerve and asks Kayla to dance. She looks over at Alex once and then gets up and follows Chris. I smile. Good. Maybe Kayla will snap out of it. I think of Josh and Taylor again. I virtually had to hit Josh upside the head before he noticed the fact that Taylor was in love with him. The difference there is that I actually like both Josh and Taylor. Chris and Kayla, meh.

  I’m lost in thought until the next song starts playing. I’m surprised to hear it, since it’s really old—from one of the albums my mom’s had since I was a kid. It’s one of my favorites, even though it’s always made me a little sad. Tonight, though, I don’t know if I can handle it. I’m about to stand up and hobble as fast as I can in these stupid heels toward the bathroom for a full-on cry fest again when someone touches my shoulder. I turn and see Alex. I hadn’t even noticed him stand up.

  “Dance with me.”

  I try to smile, but it comes out crooked.

  “I told you. I don’t—”

  “Not good enough. Try again.”

  I smirk at him.

  “I hate this song.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  I blush.

  “What are you? A human lie detector?”

  When he takes my hand and pulls me up, I don’t argue. What would be the point? To prove I’m stubborn? After only a week, I’ve proven that a million times. What he doesn’t know is that every time he touches me, it feels like there’s an electric current running through my entire body.

  As soon as we reach the dance floor, Alex takes my hand and slips the other around my waist. The heat from his skin radiates through the satin at my back and makes me feel like I might burst into flames at any second. When he pulls me in closer, my breath catches, and I look up into his startlingly blue eyes. I can’t read his thoughts, but I suddenly recognize the intensity of his expression. Desire. Hypnotic and drugging. His hand on my back tightens and pulls me closer as the other comes up, his fingers brushing my bottom lip. The sudden jolt of pleasure stuns me.

  We’re barely moving on the dance floor, but I don’t care. My brain is screaming at me to say something light and dismissive. Then he slowly bends toward me, and I stop breathing altogether.

  “You two clearly didn’t read the dance contract!” a voice barks from my side. “You’re going to have to back this up at least six inches!”

  Jumping like I’ve been scalded, I turn and recognize Mr. Brummel from my independent study class. Free of my trance, I turn to Alex and see him glaring, not at the teacher, but at someone else toward the back of the room. I follow his gaze, and my pulse spikes when I recognize the person who’s glaring back at Alex. I gasp. It’s the guy he was in a fight with … the same one from my dream.

  How do I know this guy?

  Reaching down, I slip off my heels, hike up my dress, and bolt off the dance floor. By the time I reach the back of the room, the stranger is gone. Desperate, I run through the doors, and then outside, sprinting toward the grassy field at the edge of campus. I assumed he was headed toward the parking lot, but there’s no sign of him. Breathing heavily, I stop and spin around in the darkness. This stranger is starting to seem like the White Rabbit from Alice in Wonderland. Always disappearing.

  I look around one more time, scanning the darkness, and then flinch when I find him right in front of me. I take a step back, suddenly realizing that I’m standing alone in the dark with some stranger I’ve dreamt of.

  “Why are you following Alex?” I demand with as much fearlessness as I can muster.

  “Wren!”

  I look over my shoulder uneasily, afraid to turn my back on the stranger. An instant later, Alex is right behind me, having covered the distance faster than any of the sprinters on the track team at Pali could have. I turn back to where the stranger was standing a second ago, but he’s gone. Like magic. Disappeared. When I shiver, Alex puts his jacket over my shoulders. Looking up at him, I feel my anger boil over. I’m more than a little bit freaked out. I’m afraid I’m really beginning to lose my mind.

  “Alex, what the hell is going on?! I feel like I’m going crazy. Who was that guy? Why is he following you?”

  “I told you,” he says seriously. “He thinks I took something from him.”

  “Well, then give it back! Whatever it is can’t be worth getting stalked, right?”

  I laugh nervously when he doesn’t say anything.

  “You know what?” I continue. “Next week we’re starting Truth and Honesty Tuesdays.”

  He takes my hand in one of his.

  “Why not start now?” he asks softly.

  When he reaches up with his other hand and tilts my chin, my eyes widen and my pulse jumps.
I watch, locked in place, as he leans toward me. All I can think is: This can’t be real.

  The hand holding mine drops to my hip, and I hear myself gasp. Anchored in place, I watch him breathlessly as he leans closer. His thumb grazes my lower lip once and then again just before his mouth comes down on mine. I shiver as electricity hums through me. His skin is unnaturally hot, like he’s burning up from fever. My knees weaken, my eyes closing automatically. I feel his smile against my lips as his other hand comes around my waist and lifts me. Reaching up, I let my fingers sink into his hair. Suddenly his lips part mine, causing a spike of desire so sharp that I whimper.

  “Yes,” he murmurs.

  I pull free, trembling from the sensation. I try to slow my breathing.

  “What’s wrong?” Alex says softly against my ear.

  “I’m scared.”

  My cheeks are still flushed, and I wince at how silly it sounds, but it’s true. I feel like I’m falling headfirst, and if I don’t pull up fast, I’m going to be lost. Alex lowers me to the ground.

  “Wren, tonight means more to me than you could possibly begin to imagine.”

  I smile uncertainly.

  “You’re teasing me again.”

  He takes both my hands in his, his blue eyes shining unnaturally in the moonlight.

  “I meant every word. And I will not risk everything I’ve gained by pushing you.”

  He puts his arm around my shoulders, and we begin walking back inside. Before we’ve reached the double doors, Alex stops and stiffens. It’s absolutely silent. No music, no voices. He grabs my arm just as several people begin walking out the door toward us. When I see their eyes—black and empty, every single one of them—I stare, unable to move. Alex’s voice snaps me back to reality.

  “Run.”

  Terrified, I jerk my dress up to my knees and start running. Only steps later, I lose hold of the dress, and it falls around my ankles again. When I slow down, Alex reaches over, lightning fast, and tears the material above my knees. Free of the dress and heels, I sprint with Alex’s hand gripping mine tightly. As soon as we reach his car, he pushes me into the passenger seat and slams the door after me. Then, with inhuman speed, he appears behind the wheel and has the engine running in an instant. I turn and I see figures approaching out of the darkness.