“I would have had the flower shop deliver a truckload if they had enough in stock, angel face.” Trouble touched his lips as one side of his mouth lifted and a lock of loose hair fell into his eyes. Grace watched, disappointed, when he snapped his head back, moving the hair out of the way. Before he did, she pictured her hand reaching across the table, sweeping it back herself and tracing his troublemaking lips with her finger.
They talked through the entire meal. Grace talked so much she was surprised to see her plate had only trace amounts of food left. Outside, she put her shoes and coat back on and stuffed her heels in the bag.
Darius handed her the helmet. “Ready?”
“Yes,” she squealed, slamming her helmet on with loose abandon. She didn’t care if it messed up her hair this time. The ride was so worth it.
Wrapping her arms tightly around Darius, Grace laid the side of her head against his shoulder. Too nervous earlier to realize he smelled good this close up, Grace tried to inconspicuously sniff him. Spicy leather invaded her olfactory senses, touching her brain in all the right places.
As they headed in the opposite direction of her home, Grace wondered where he was taking her next. After passing Brian’s, she had a good idea. Craning her neck to see if Quentin was behind them was tough. He wasn’t there. Again she wondered where he was.
A couple of right turns later, they arrived at the lake. Grace grabbed the hand that Darius offered to help her step off the bike, before getting off himself. She handed him the helmet, and then took off her jacket, laying it across the seat of the motorcycle. Even though it was after nine, it was still warm out. Especially since the freakishly warm weather hadn’t moved on yet.
Darius stood on the other side of the bike, watching her. “I have a surprise, but you have to close your eyes, and keep them closed until I tell you to open them.”
A little uncertain, she stared at him questioningly.
“Trust me, you’ll like it.” Then he flashed her the smile that continued to make her go against her better judgment. She listened and closed her eyes. Her ears pricked at all the noises around her. It sounded like he was running all over the place, close to her and then farther away. Curiosity almost had her peeking, so she squeezed her lids tighter.
The feel of his hand at the small of her back shot an excited tingle of awareness through her. “Okay, you can open them now,” he whispered against her ear.
Clasping her hand over her mouth, she glanced around in awe. She couldn’t believe he did this for her. Tea lights were scattered like confetti all over the ground, from where they stood, clear to the water’s edge. A blanket close to the water was outlined with candles.
“Oh my gosh, Darius. It’s beautiful,” she said, barely pulling her hand from her mouth.
His smile touched his eyes this time. “When we were out here last night, you said how much you loved stargazing. I thought I’d lay them at your feet.”
Flabbergasted, she stared back at him, unable to voice a single word, much less able to breathe. She couldn’t even utter a sound. Tears welled a little in her eyes. Darius entwined his fingers with hers and pulled her softly through the disarray of twinkling ground stars. Grace stumbled through the maze, staring at the brilliant flickering lights all around. If she was in trouble before where Darius was concerned, she was downright doomed now.
Darius guided her over the border of tea lights, and helped her down on the blanket next to him. As she quietly peered up at the star-speckled sky, Grace hoped she’d see a shooting star. She would wish for more moments like this. It took awhile for her heart to go back to a normal rhythm and when it did, she found her voice again.
“Darius?”
When he turned his head to her, the darker speckles of his emerald eyes sparkled in the twinkle of the tea lights. He didn’t say anything. Mesmerized by their unique color, she whispered, “You have the prettiest eyes.”
His smile curved up in a whole lot of trouble. It was sexy as hell. His gaze went from her eyes to her mouth, almost in warning. When he cupped the side of her face with his hand, Grace didn’t move. And just like earlier, her lungs failed to work.
His gaze never wavered from Grace’s. He kept his eyes open, even as his lips pressed softly against hers. Everything around her stopped—the singing crickets, the breeze, the turn of the world…her heart. For the time being, she tricked herself into believing she could have something like this. Something real and normal. Him. She would be the one girl Darius could never let go.
Because her mom was right, she wouldn’t have normal now.
Darius pulled far enough away so they could clearly focus on each other. The corner of his mouth was still curved up in sexiness. Flutters flip-flopped hysterically in the pit of Grace’s stomach, making it hard not to shiver. She smiled back at him, contemplating whether to take the situation into her own hands by pulling him back to her. Luckily, she didn’t have to.
Her head was a whirlwind of muddled thoughts as soon as his lips touched hers again. Her heart, like the last time, sputtered as it tried hard to correct its tempo. When he kissed the bottom of her lip and then the top, she parted her lips just enough to allow his tongue entrance. As soon as their tongues joined, she lost all control. Magically her tongue danced with his—a skill she was unaware she possessed. Caught up in the moment, Grace tangled her fingers in Darius’ hair, pressing his lips harder against hers.
Darius moved his hand from the ground and cupped her face. It seemed as though he was trying to slow them down, and she reluctantly let him. Lost in the bliss of their kiss, Grace slowly opened her eyes. A smirk of satisfaction greeted her.
She smirked back. “Happy with yourself?”
Darius kissed the tip of her nose. “Actually, I am.”
Grace rolled her eyes and shook her head at him.
A little later, he said it was time to get her home. They worked together picking up the tea lights and blanket. Arriving back at the manor, Darius helped her off the bike, and she gathered her things.
Darius twisted his fingers in hers, and Grace followed him to the door. “I had fun.”
Not quite sure how to end the night, she plucked at nonexistent lint from the sleeve of her jacket. “I did too.” She brought her eyes back up when she felt him step toward her.
Darius tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear, and held her face. “Good night, Grace.”
“Night,” she said breathlessly.
Darius kissed the top of her head, gave her a quick wink, and jumped on his bike. Grace sighed and fell back against the door.
Sunday morning came and went and still no sign of Quentin. Grace wanted to search for him, but knowing where that got them the last time had her thinking up alternatives. She grabbed her cell from the kitchen counter and stilled, thinking she heard someone walking across the foyer.
Quentin walked through the kitchen doorway seconds later. His eyes raked over her with an aloofness that caught her off guard. “We have training in one hour.” Grace silently watched him grab the OJ from the refrigerator. Before walking back out, he peered over his shoulder. “Okay?”
Her first thought was to reach for his arm to see if she could gauge his mood. She even stepped toward him until his eyes went from cold to slightly angry. Grace stepped back against the counter. “Okay.” When he completely disappeared through the doorway, she still hadn’t moved. His coldness scraped painfully over her insides. Grace didn’t know what she did to him, or how to feel about his change in attitude toward her.
A part of her wanted to go after him while the other part, the part that refused to put up with anyone’s crap any longer, kept her feet bolted to the kitchen floor. If Quentin wanted to be a jerk, fine. He could see just how much fun she could be as well.
An hour later, Grace stood outside the office door, nervously eying her gray yoga pants and tank top. Never having done any kind of training other than Zumba here and there, she hoped what she was wearing was fine. She didn’t want to make
the edge Quentin was on any sharper than it already was.
She turned the door handle, and talked herself into entering the office. Other than the light coming from the bathroom, it was dark. Quentin left the linen closet open for her at least. Grace could feel the cool air from the passageway below. She stepped inside, one foot at a time, and the steel door slid closed and locked with a click behind her. This time the hallway was already lit, the angel torches having activated when Quentin came through the moment before.
Following the natural grooves in the stone wall, Grace ran a finger along the crevices as she slowly made her way to the gym. Unlike the linen closet, the gym door was closed. Images of how Quentin looked the last time she found him in there flashed inconveniently before her eyes. Grace forced herself to think of the kiss with Darius. That worked for … oh … less than a minute. She so didn’t want to go in there.
With a groan she banged the door open much harder than necessary, slamming it shut behind her. This time she made sure Quentin knew she wasn’t trying to sneak up on him. Off to the left of the boxing ring, Quentin stood on top of one of a series of mats strung across the gym floor, wrapping his hands in tape. Was he expecting her to box or something? Standing beside him, she watched as he finished taping his hands. “What do you need that for?”
He focused on the wrapping, smoothing the tape’s edges. “Training.”
“I thought you said I’d be learning kra something? You didn’t say anything about boxing.”
Finally he looked up, but when he did, his eyes still held the same indifference from earlier. “It’s krav maga, and we’re not boxing.”
Grace continued to eye the tape. “Then why the tape?”
“Training.”
“Yeah, you said that already.” Annoyed, she glanced around the room. Even though he said they weren’t boxing, the ring looming over her made her twitch.
Hearing Quentin sigh brought Grace’s attention back around to him—to him watching her. “It’s for pull-ups and hitting the bags.”
Shifting her eyes from him to the punching bags made her palms sweat. “Oh.”
And there it was, a smile to clue her in that the old Quentin was still somewhere in there. “It’ll be okay.”
Grace returned his smile with an uneasy, half-cocked grin. “If you say so.”
“I say so. I’ve already warmed up, so pick either the treadmill or the elliptical for ten minutes or so.”
Grace jumped on the elliptical, set the speed and resistance, and watched the muted news on the flat screen above her. After ten minutes, she was already sweaty. She grabbed a drink from the water container and took a few minutes to catch her breath. Quentin was still standing in the center of the mats, and waved her over to join him. Here we go, she thought unenthusiastically.
Grace stood a couple of feet away, and waited with a hand on her hip for instruction. Quentin closed the gap between them, intending to be intimidating, but Grace refused to cow. “The first thing you need to know about krav maga is that it is an aggressive, hand-to-hand combat sport.” She swallowed, but stayed firm where she was. “Its focus is to neutralize any kind of attack. To disable or kill your enemies.”
Her eye ticked at the mention of killing anyone. She hoped it never ever came to that. She thought back on the night of the accident, and remembered how easily it could have been her or one of her friends that died, which restored her resolve. “Okay.” With a nod, she stood firmly rooted to the floor.
An hour later and Grace was overwhelmed with the hand-to-hand stuff. She figured he’d be the one touching, not the other way around. So, when it was her turn to replicate the moves he was teaching her, the rush of his emotions was a little much. She did note, however, he was no longer struggling when it came to her. He seemed perfectly unaffected by the close contact. The only emotions she was sensing from him were irritation and fortitude. He better not be irritated at me, she thought.
Bent at the waist and breathing heavily, Grace was glad they were done for the night. She’d never worked out so hard in her life. Forget boot camp, krav maga was definitely the harder workout. A neat stack of snowy white towels sat on a shelf next to the water cooler. Grace grabbed one and wiped the sweat from her head and neck.
As she stood there waiting for Quentin to tell her she could leave, a voiceless whisper beckoned her to the security room—an ethereal voice scratching at the surface of her mind, but not really saying a word. It was the eeriest feeling. Panicked that someone was down there with them, she searched around for Quentin. When their eyes met, he grabbed the blades he was putting away and was by her side a second later. “What is it?”
How could she explain it without sounding like someone who needed to be in a straitjacket and locked in a rubber room? “Um…I don’t exactly know.”
He took her by the elbow. “Try.”
She walked toward the apartment door with Quentin close on her heels, and spoke over her shoulder. “Something in there is calling me.” She turned to see his reaction. His features had softened.
“That’s Pandora. Unnerving, huh?” he said with a grin.
“Yeah, just a little. It’s like I can hear her. Only, it’s in my head.” Grace’s voice shook a tiny bit.
Quentin grabbed the knob, and nodded toward the door. “Come on, let’s go check on her, because if you don’t you’ll be too restless to sleep.”
Pandora was right where she’d left her—in the back of the laser-beam-guarded security room. While Grace stared at Pandora, she wrapped her arms around herself and shuddered. She hoped Quentin could teach her some Jedi roll or something…just in case he was wrong about the laser guards.
For two weeks, Grace spent her time either at school or in the gym below the house. On the weekends, she and Quentin spent twice the normal time training. Deep down, Grace figured Quentin planned it by design, because every time Darius called to see if she was busy, she was too tired to do anything. The couple of times Darius snuck over completely surprised her. He’d say, “Texts just aren’t good enough.” Then he’d leave her standing at the door with a kiss that left her thinking of nothing else but him.
In the end, Quentin was right. The more he pushed her, the faster and better she got. At first when Quentin told her she was Chosen, she didn’t feel different. However, the knowledge that she was rapidly becoming a neutralizing machine capable of thwarting any attack with her bare hands, coursed powerfully through her veins. It was mind-blowing and totally cool.
What didn’t feel awesome was Quentin’s continued emotional distance. She would try to talk, and he’d only nod or grunt. He didn’t act mad per se, but he didn’t exactly seem thrilled to be so close to her either. When they sparred, she sensed the same feelings as day one of training—irritation and fortitude. Two emotions she didn’t know what to do with.
At the end of every training session, it was the same—Pandora’s siren call pulled Grace to the security room while Quentin waited for her. Afterward they’d walk the passageway to the top and he’d tell her she did well and he’d see her the next night. And true to his word, she wouldn’t see him, but she knew he was there. She could feel him all around. Grace wished they could get back to the way they were. Sadly, she realized she was becoming more accepting of the way things were, and gave up trying to talk to him about it.
Sometime during the last two weeks, Amanda had started warming up a little. They weren’t back to being buds, but Amanda did stop acting like Grace didn’t exist. It was a start. Regardless of how tired Grace was, she noticed something was off with her. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she knew there was something wrong. Since she and Amanda weren’t exactly on speaking terms, she didn’t push her about it.
All of the buzz in school today was the gloomy weather outside. There was finally a break in the blazing heat. Meteorologists joked it was a monsoon. If true, it was three months early. The rainy season in Utah didn’t usually start until early July. Perfect, she was parked way out like usual and
had no coat or umbrella. “Meet me at the curb,” Zeke said, and ran and got his car, picked her up in front of the school, and drove her to her car. The rain pelted against the car, noisy and relentless. Grace looked up at the sky apprehensively from the passenger window, dreading getting out. “Uh … are you going to see your girlfriend this weekend?”
Zeke’s mouth twitched. “Are you jealous?”
“What?” Grace asked. “No!”
“It’s all your fault I’m unavailable now.”
Grace smiled. “Oh? Why’s that?”
Zeke crossed his arms over his chest, and sat a little back in his seat. “Because, if you wouldn’t have left me alone for so long at the party, I could be taking you out tonight instead.”
“Don’t let her hear you say that. I’m guessing she wouldn’t like it.”
Zeke chuckled. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
Grace leaned against the door, ready to beeline it to her car. “Thanks for the ride.”
“No problem. See you Monday.”
“See ya.” Outside the door of her car, Grace thought of another reason having a newer car would be a good thing—keyless entry. As she fought with the key, the rain pelted against her skin and clothing. Throwing her bag in the passenger seat, she plopped into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut.
Grace made sure the radio was on an even numbered station, and wiped the rain from her face. The music couldn’t drown out the loud rain hammering like a drum line against her car as she drove home. Usually, she parked in the turnaround in front, but today she decided to park in the garage. Quentin, surprisingly, pulled in next to her.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” she said back.
“How was school?” he asked, holding the door to the house open.
It had been awhile since he’d made small talk with her, so she trod lightly. “It was school. How was guarding?”
“It was guarding. Let me take that.” Before she walked past him, he took her backpack and swept his hand out in invitation. “Go ahead.”
Shattered Grace (Fallen from Grace) Page 25