“At what?” I raise my eyebrows at him.
Dean makes a frustrated noise. “Telling you what you want to hear…how I feel about you.”
I scoot closer to him again. “You don’t have to,” I say softly. “I was just giving you a hard time.”
He keeps his head down for the span of several heartbeats. When he looks up again, I am utterly entranced by the lovely clarity of his almost translucent eyes. “I don’t know any love poems, or anything,” he says, self-consciously rubbing a hand over his mouth.
“Dean.” I roll my eyes at him. “You’re face is a love poem.”
Humor lights his eyes. “I think that’s my line.”
“Yeah, right. My face is more like nursery rhyme.” I climb back into bed, and stare up at the ceiling.
The bed dips a little, and Dean’s face suddenly appears over mine, bracing himself over me with his hands planted on either side of my head.
“I know what I want,” he says quietly, holding my gaze. “I won’t change my mind, and I don’t cheat.”
Will I ever get used to that amazing face looking down at me with such intensity? I reach up to skim my fingers over his cheek, just to assure myself that he’s real. “I’m scared,” I admit.
“Of me?” he asks, moving inches closer.
I don’t answer, because I don’t know. Besides, Dean’s lips are temptingly close. I raise up on my elbows, and close the short distance between us. Unable to help myself, I dive right into a full on R-rated kiss.
I love the way he reacts when I touch him—like someone losing a battle with himself. He lowers himself over me, pinning my hands above my head, and so easily we become lost in each other. I could be sublimely happy if we were the only two people in the world right now.
I can tell by his taut muscles that he’s keeping himself on a tight leash. I don’t help matters when I arch up against him, clearly breaking the “don’t tempt Dean” rules. He makes a strangled noise, and tries to draw back.
“Juliet,” he growls warningly.
“Dean,” I reply, putting everything I’m offering in that one syllable.
But he’s shaking his head, trying to disentangle himself from me. “Not until you’re sure this is what you want.”
“I don’t know,” I say, agitated. “I mean, I really want to, but…”
“I know,” he says, holding himself off of me.
“I’m sorry,” I say, feeling the rock hard tension in his body.
“Don’t be. I’d do anything for you,” Dean says fiercely, brushing my hair back from my face.
I reach up to wind my arms around his neck. “I would let you do anything to me,” I whisper recklessly.
I swear, something primal moves behind his eyes, and I half expect him to turn into a werewolf or something. Breathing hard, he pushes himself off of me. “Don’t say that to me,” he says in a dangerously low voice. “You don’t know what I want to do to you.”
Okay, now I’m curious. “Is it something really kinky?”
He glances over his shoulder at me, smirking. “Go to bed, Juliet.”
“Okay. Seriously, dude…how kinky are we talking? Because I’m not down with pain.”
Dean’s already walking away. He scoops up his workout bag before he leaves, so I assume he’s going for a run. “Good night,” he says without turning around.
I watch him disappear out the door. Well, damn. I roll onto my side to stare at Big Willow, who has the place of honor right next to my bed. “How am I suppose to sleep now?” I ask her.
It’s probably my imagination, but I swear she winks at me.
******
Chapter 43
I blink, and it’s Wednesday. Dean is going with LSU. I point out to him that I won’t know where I’m accepted for two months—while he has to make a commitment, like, now. I want to reassure him that I’ll definitely pick LSU if I get in, but something is holding me back. The smart thing to do would be to not make any promises until the letters come in. That will give me time to think about things, and make sure I’m not making the wrong decisions here. Because no matter how I feel about Dean, there are other things to consider. Like…
Look at him. Then look at me. He’s a freaking super model star football player, and I’m—I look like the girl next door’s little sister. What gonna happen when we get to college, where the girls are more supposedly more aggressive? What if he’s discovered by a big Hollywood director who takes him away and introduces him to a ton of glamorous actresses?
My fears are only intensified at the press conference. Dean’s dad shows up, acting like he’s his agent. Dean just ignores him, and handles the press with a stone face and a mature professionalism that impresses me. They fall all over him, as much for his looks as his talent—and everyone predicts he’ll have a rich future doing product endorsements. Mack is going to LSU, too, and the whole Aina family is there to celebrate—Mack is almost buried under a mountain of leis of flowers and candy. Lorena is there, and we sit next to each other, cheering wildly. I even cheer for Ryan and Jason, who are both signing letters of intent with East Carolina. Dean’s eyes meet mine after he signs, and something bright and hot flares between us. My face grows warm as Lorena elbows me in the ribs.
Of course, one person is conspicuously absent. Poor Johnny. I know he wanted to come to support his friends, but he didn’t want to deal with the reporters and their insensitive questions. They have the nerve to ask Dean if it’s a bittersweet day for him, considering the fact that his stepbrother—who should be signing alongside him—is sitting at home with nothing but his crutches and broken dreams to keep him company. Dean just gives his blank cop face, admirably restraining from punching that particular reporter in the face. I feel like waiting around and tripping the guy if I get the chance.
The entire week is filled with drama. Mack is depressed because he and Lorena are fighting about—basically, about the same thing Dean and I are going through. I tell Mack he should give it some time to see where the relationship is going, and he likes that answer about as much as Dean does. Sloane is back from rehab, or wherever the hell she went. She doesn’t seem to notice the death glares I give her. Also, it really annoys me how good she and Dean look together. I hate that they’re friends, though I’m not about to say anything to him about it.
Oh! Ben gets caught cheating on Arianna with Katerinka! Someone takes a video of Katerinka on her knees in front of Ben at a party—and it totally goes viral. So Arianna goes batshit, attacking Ben and giving him a black eye, and a pronounced limp in his walk. He’s so proud of his injuries! But then she quite publically sleeps with Bobo for revenge (in his car while parked on school grounds!), and everything blows up. Ben goes after Bobo at school, but then Bobo pulls a knife on him! He gets taken down by security before anyone can get hurt, and last I heard they’re looking at him as a suspect for the fires. Ben wants a copy of the video showing the attack so he can upload it online, and schemes to hack into Leclare’s surveillance system. Something’s just not right with that boy. I am definitely keeping in touch with him after we graduate.
“So, Juliet. What are your plans for Valentine’s day?”
The piece of bread I’m munching on nearly falls out of my mouth at Kara’s question. She’s looking at me expectantly, ice blue eyes wide and friendly.
She’s still being eerily nice to me, and it just gets creepier the more she does it. Yesterday, she offered let me borrow her new Louis Vuitton bag. I refrain from telling her that I’d rather punch myself in the throat before I willingly accept anything from her.
“Um…” I swallow the bread, nearly choking on it. “N-nothing, I guess.”
“I don’t buy that,” Kara replies, with a sly glance at Dean, who is sitting across the table from me, determinedly eating his lunch, and shutting everyone else out.
My heart sinks. She knows. Of course she does. That sly bitch. What’s she gonna do with that information, I wonder. My gaze meets Dean’s, and he lifts an eyebrow at t
he worry I know he can read on my face. I give an almost imperceptible shrug. I’m not going to waste more time stressing about it. She did, however, bring up a good point. Valentine’s Day is on Thursday. I’ve got something for him, but I don’t know if he’ll like it. Maybe I should get a backup present as well? Boxers with hearts and lips printed all over them? One of those stuffed animals that dances and plays silly songs? I can just imagine the look on his face if I tried to give him those cheesy gifts. I’m totally gonna do it. I’m going to buy him the biggest cheesiest stuffed animal I can find, and the most obnoxious pair of boxers—something that will make him smile. He doesn’t do it nearly enough, and I’ve been making it my mission in life to see one on his face more often.
“Touch it.”
“No.”
“Come on…give it a squeeze. You know you want to.”
A reluctant smile plays about Dean’s mouth. But he shakes his head. “No, thanks.”
“Fine, I’ll do it.”
I squeeze the orangutan’s hand, and dissonant music and whirring noises accompany its gyrating hips. He’s bananas for love. I crack up at the look on Dean’s face. Then I squeeze the monkey’s hand again to turn it off because even I can’t deal with the extreme cheese factor. I reach over my bed to grab the Valentine’s Day boxers from the glittery red gift bag I had presented him with that night. I hold it up in front of him, waving it around.
“Are you gonna wear these tonight?” I ask, moving my eyebrows up and down suggestively.
He grabs them from me and holds it out, his brow furrowing. “Are those lipstick prints?”
I pout my lips at him. “My favorite shade.”
Dean’s eyes widen. “Yours?”
I nod, enjoying the way his eyes suddenly flare as they drop down to my mouth. I’m suddenly very glad I decided to buy the plain white boxers and decorate it myself. Maybe my lip prints right over the fly of the boxers is a little too suggestive, but then again, it is Valentine’s Day.
My hand goes to my neck, and I touch the glittering gold necklace engraved with a complex Celtic design. The gold is so delicate, it looks like it’s dripping down my cleavage. I absolutely love it.
“I can’t believe you remembered about this necklace,” I say, tracing the patterns with my fingers. “I brought it up weeks ago.”
Dean lifts his head, his gaze meeting mine. “I remember everything you say.”
My breath quickens as my insides turn to melting caramel. It’s scary how easily this boy can become my whole world. I have to be careful to not let that happen, because if I lost him…I don’t know what I’d do.
I launch myself at Dean, surprising him. He catches me instinctively, gripping me under my thighs. When my mouth latches onto his, he stumbles back a step and whirls me around. The back of me thumps into a wall. I wrap my arms around his neck, and wiggle just enough so that our bodies are perfectly aligned. Dean curses under his breath, now supporting me with only one arm, the other hand running up my skirt. I gasp into his mouth. God, he makes me wanna…
He always has such iron control. I want to make him lose it. I run my fingers through his soft dark hair, and fit a hand between us so I can glide my hand down his chest, past his ripped abs, down to the bulging fly of his jeans. I touch him through his clothes, and he groans. I’m giddy with power.
For that lovely space in time we communicate with urgent strokes and breathless moans. This time is different—more intense…and so, so right.
“You’re killing me,” Dean growls in my ear, his breathing still uneven. “So much for my good intentions.”
“They’re overrated, anyway.” I slide down his body. My legs feel like jelly, so I have to lean against the wall for support. I laugh breathlessly.
“Shower?” He arches an eyebrow at me. “Together or separate?”
“Separate,” I say with a smile. “You can barely fit in there by yourself, let alone with me. I always hear you swearing when you bang an elbow into the shower door.”
Dean grimaces. “Your shower head is set too low.”
“Your head is set too high.” I make a face at him when he just looks at me. “Take a quick one. I have something else to give you.”
He smirks at me. “You’ve already given me plenty.”
“Pervert.” I smack his bare chest. “Hurry.”
He grabs some clothes, and heads out. I decide to clean up in my mom’s bathroom to save time. The woman is never home—I don’t even bother to lock my door anymore. It’s not like I want her to catch us doing anything, or something sick like that. It’s just that she doesn’t care, so why should I?
Dean beats me back to the room. He’s sitting on my bed, working on his laptop, and flicking his Zippo. Probably doing his project for his drafting class. He looks up when I come in, and his gaze is heated. I react immediately, my system flooding with endorphins at the sight of him. God, this is embarrassing.
Mentally shaking the lust from my thoughts, I go over to my desk to grab Dean’s present from the drawer. Clutching the black velvet pouch tightly, I plop down on the bed in front of him.
“You don’t have to like it,” I blurt out nervously. “I don’t know if this is your kind of thing, but I thought it was neat.”
Dean puts his laptop and lighter aside when I thrust the pouch at him. I watch anxiously as he loosens the drawstrings then shakes out the contents of the pouch onto his outstretched palm. He hooks a finger under the black cord necklace and examines the smooth black stone hanging from it. Etched in gold is a symbol—it looks like an upside down dagger bracketed by two thick commas—and as the necklace sways from his finger, the gold turns molten when the light hits it.
“This is great,” he says finally. “What that symbol mean, do you know?”
I exhale in relief. He seems to like it. “Well, there’s a whole story behind it. I got it at a cool little shop in Hidden Cove. The owner guy makes these really awesome necklaces, and this one caught my eye. He told me all about the legend behind the symbol.”
“There was this young couple—Arayna and Bob—who were desperately in love, but contact between the two was strictly forbidden because she was the daughter of a high priest and he was one of a long line of poor fisherman. So Arayna would sneak out every morning to tryst with Bob before he went off on his fishing boat. Every night, she would go up to the highest mountain and arrange her fire stones with their symbol—endurance through fire—so he would know she was waiting for him.”
“One day, a massive storm rolled in, destroying everything in its path, and tossing boats about like they were toys. Arayna’s only thought was of Bob, and she immediately ran to the mountain to light her fire stones. She waited all day, and all night, but Bob didn’t return. She knew in her heart that he was out there, lost and searching for home. But the wake of the storm had the entire island shrouded in low-lying clouds, making it impossible for Bob to find his way back to her.”
“Arayna knew there was only one hope. She went to her father, the high priest, and confessed her love for the poor fisherman. He was outraged, of course, and threatened her with disownment and social destruction. But she didn’t care. She’s like, ‘If I can’t be with Bob in this life, I’ll throw myself into the sea so we can be together in the next one!’ And her dad’s like, ‘Okay, fine.’ So he called a town meeting, where Arayna basically spilled her guts in front of everyone. She got down on her knees, and begged for their help to save Bob’s life. The entire village was swayed by her obvious love for him, and so they agreed to help.”
“Everyone gathered up all their fire stones. They took them to the highest mountain, and arranged them in this symbol—big enough so that it lit up almost the entire side of the mountain. If Bob was out there, there would be no way he could miss it.”
“Arayna kept vigil on the mountain. She waited for a week before he finally came back to her—half-drowned and starving—but alive, just like Arayna knew he was. Bob told her the only thing that kept him going was see
ing their symbol, bigger than life on their mountain. He realized what she must have done, what she sacrificed for him, and immediately proposed to her…”
I trail off, watching Dean’s reaction. He’d been listening intently the whole time, his head cocked to the side, considering. When I stop, he smiles wryly. “And they lived happily ever after?”
“Well, no. Bob died a week later of spinal meningitis. But, not before he gave her a baby—a son.” I held up a finger. “When the son grew up, they started a very successful fishing business together. And they made their official logo this.” I point to the stone.
Dean chuckles. He lifts the necklace up, and places it over his head. And just like that, it becomes elegant, sexy, mysterious. It lies against his skin, the gold symbol flashing in the light. I am so turned on seeing him wear it.
Well, damn, at this point, what doesn’t turn me on?
“Thank you,” he says, slowly dragging me forward by my hips. “For the necklace, and the story.”
“You’re welcome,” I gasp out when my body comes into contact with his.
I have just enough time to draw in a deep breath before Dean pulls me under with him.
I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of him…
******
Chapter 44
Someone’s pounding on the front door. Who in the world could it be at…one-fifteen in the morning?
Oh, my god.
All the blood drains from my face. “My mom,” I whisper, springing into a sitting position.
I jump up from the bed, and tear out of the room. I hear Dean curse behind me, and call my name, but I don’t stop. I half-run, half-fly down the stairs. Something must’ve happened to my mom…what else could it be?
Holding my breath, I throw the door open, bracing myself for the sight of uniformed officers with grim faces on the other side. Instead, Nick’s standing there, gaping at me. My whole body sighs in relief.
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