Scratch

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Scratch Page 8

by Rhonda Helms


  Daniel reached a hand out and touched one of my curls. His mouth turned up at the corners. “I like your hair like this,” he murmured. Then he stepped closer and cupped my face in his hands, like I was made of porcelain. His movements were slow, measured; he was probably making sure of my feelings.

  Then his soft lips brushed against mine. I sighed, and his tongue slipped along the seam of my mouth, the corners of my lips. I pressed a fraction closer, let him open my mouth a little more. His hands remained light, his kiss far too brief. He pulled back, stroked a thumb across my cheekbone, then stepped away.

  “Good night, Casey,” he said. Then he turned and walked to his car. As he drove off, he gave me one last wave.

  I stood there for a couple of minutes. I could still feel his hands on my face, his lips on mine. It was a gentlemanly kiss, not having any of that heat that our earlier dancing had shown between us. Yet somehow it had blown me away even more.

  I brushed my fingertips against my lower lip. Then I headed to my apartment, unlocking the door. Megan’s purse was on the side table, so she was obviously home. I gave a quiet chuckle—for once, I was out later than she was. She would be so proud of me when we talked about it tomorrow.

  As I tossed my keys and purse on the table, I paused. Huh. The thought of talking to her about my date had just cropped up, and I hadn’t even flinched about it.

  I made my way into the shower, rinsing under the cool water. It was refreshing after being so hot and sweaty in the club. My soapy fingers brushed against my puckered scars. It was crazy how quickly he’d turned me on while we were dancing. I was a little scared, yes. But underneath that fear was another emotion, something that bubbled in my chest whenever I thought of him. Saw him. Touched him.

  There was a craving for him I couldn’t deny.

  I rinsed and toweled off, slipped on a tank and sleep shorts and lay on top of my bed.

  My head was still spinning; I couldn’t get Daniel off my mind. His bluntness, his eyes, those wicked fingers caressing my back. His hot mouth on my skin.

  Like me, Daniel was full of contradictions—he pressed me, then backed away. One thing was for sure. The guy kept me on my toes.

  My lips stayed curved into a tiny smile until I fell asleep.

  I was totally going to throw up.

  Megan walked out of her bedroom in her lacy swimsuit cover-up and eyed me, one perfectly arched brow raised. “Don’t you dare vomit on this rug,” she demanded. “Seriously, it’ll be fine. He’ll be here any minute. And then we can go have a ton of fun.” She gave a wide grin. “I have on my sexiest bikini. It’s basically just strategically placed bright green string. Bobby’s gonna shit his pants when he sees how fabulous my boobs look in it.”

  Obviously my nervousness was evident all over my face. I tugged at the neckline of my T-shirt and gave a weak laugh. “Please. You look fabulous in everything.”

  She sat down beside me and took my clammy hands in hers. “Hey,” she said, her smile fading away. “You okay?”

  My nod was jerky, despite my attempt to smother my fears. Why the hell was I so nervous? Probably because I’d put myself out there yesterday and impulsively asked Daniel to come with us.

  Megan’s family lived in a lakefront house, with its own private beach on Lake Erie, and apparently every year they had a massive grill-out for her dad’s birthday. Earlier this summer she’d invited me to spend a weekend with her at their place and meet her folks, but I’d passed on going. Instead, I’d spent that time locked away in my room, reading a book and eating far too much Chinese takeout.

  This time I couldn’t make myself say no to her invitation. She’d pleaded with me with those big, brown eyes, reminding me how much fun I was having lately, getting out of the house and living. After a few minutes, I’d caved.

  While bathing suit shopping yesterday in Target, a few hours before my Saturday night deejaying shift at The Mask, I’d grabbed my phone and fired out the world’s lamest text to Daniel, asking if he wanted to come with me. Knowing it was super last minute and he’d likely be busy but unable to deny to myself that I wanted to see him again.

  A few minutes later he’d replied that he was in.

  So now here I was, sweaty yet strangely clammy in my one-piece navy blue swimsuit, a pair of cutoff jean shorts and a T-shirt. Hoping against hope that I didn’t make a total idiot of myself in front of him today. I was nervous about going to the party, being surrounded by all of Megan’s family and friends. I’d wanted someone on my side.

  The first person—the only person—I’d thought of was him.

  Plus, I knew that since Bobby was going to meet us there, he and Megan would be sucking face the whole time, and I didn’t want to watch it.

  The doorbell rang.

  Megan jumped up and gave me a broad wink. “Ooh, I bet that’s Daniel!” She flung the door open. “Come in! She’s right here, on the couch.” She waved in my direction.

  Daniel stepped inside and peeked around, teeth flashing from his bold grin. This was his first time in our apartment, and he eyed the artwork, the furniture, the bookshelves. I’d spent the morning cleaning up to make sure it was presentable. Megan had laughed her ass off when she saw me scrubbing the floor a couple of hours ago, declaring Daniel wouldn’t give two shits about how sparkling the tile was.

  I stood and wiped my palms on my shorts. My smile was wobbly but genuine. He had on board shorts with a faded gray T-shirt. His eyes glowed, his dark hair wind-tossed. He looked devastating.

  My stomach fluttered.

  “You guys ready to go?” Megan asked, flinging her bag over her shoulder. She reached for the small cooler by the door, but Daniel took it right out of her hands with a smile.

  I grabbed my purse and keys. Daniel followed right behind me as we locked up and made our way to my car. I’d offered to drive—one, because I knew Megan would want to party, and no way was I riding in a car if she drunk drove. And two, if I needed to bolt for whatever reason, I wouldn’t be stranded there.

  But I was going to challenge myself to not run away this time. I’d talked to Grandma about it yesterday, and she’d been thrilled I was going. She suggested I take small breaks away from the crowd, find a few minutes to be by myself every hour or two so I wouldn’t get overwhelmed and panic. It was good advice.

  I could do this.

  The ride to the party was filled with Megan singing along to the radio. Daniel stayed quiet in his spot on the passenger side as I drove. Megan occasionally popped her head between us and sang loudly in our ears, slightly out of tune but enthusiastic. I couldn’t help but laugh—it was good to see her so happy.

  When we arrived, we had to park a bit down the street, since there were cars lined up for a couple of blocks in each direction. My breath started to come in small pants. So many people. Could I really do this?

  Daniel casually reached over and rested his hand on my thigh. Not sexually. Just a comforting gesture. I shot him a grateful smile. He knew how I was feeling, had picked up on it instantly. It scared me a little how he was starting to read me so fast.

  But right now, that was exactly what I needed. His silent support. I reached down to give his hand a small squeeze, then parallel parked the car.

  We headed toward Megan’s parents’ house. The sun was bright, hot. As we got closer I heard the sounds of people talking and laughing.

  Megan darted around us and opened the side door, welcoming us in. Cold air blasted me instantly, chilling my skin, and I erupted in goose bumps. The kitchen bustled with even more people, teens gathered in one corner, laughing. A few adult women were near the fridge, pulling out covered plates. God, this party was huge.

  But everyone was smiling. No one was staring at us wondering why I was here. My tension seeped out bit by bit.

  A tall black woman came over, her hair swept off her neck in a graceful ponytail. Had to be Megan’s mom; the two of them had similar features. I could see where Megan got her good looks from—she was gorgeous. Didn’
t look old enough to be in her forties, actually. When she smiled, a few lines crinkled around her dark golden eyes. “Hello, honey.” She kissed Megan’s cheek, then looked at me and Daniel.

  “Mom, this is my roomie, Casey,” Megan said as Daniel put the cooler on the countertop. “And her . . . friend.” There was a wide grin on her face as she said that, and I wanted to punch her in the shoulder for that telling pause. Awkward.

  “Glad you two are here! I’m so happy you could come.” Her mom clapped her hands, jangling the silver bracelet hoops around her wrist. She had on a dark purple one-piece suit with a thin red and yellow scarf skirt tied at her waist. “Help yourself to whatever we have. There’s beer, wine, juice, water . . . and food everywhere.”

  Megan grabbed her mom’s arm and they walked off, leaving me and Daniel standing there. I peeked up at him to see the smile in his eyes.

  “What?” I asked him.

  “I’m just happy to be here with you.” The words were so simple, so . . . Daniel. I found myself melting from the heat of his stare. He grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge and handed one to me. “Wanna go outside? Probably a little less crowded.”

  A woman jostled into his side and apologized, and he shot me a knowing look.

  I chuckled and followed him through the sliding glass doors into the bright green expanse of grass. More people were out here. We walked to the edge of the fenced-in grass and just stared out at the rich beauty of Lake Erie. The sun glinted off the dark blue waters, and boats were skating across the waves, leaving ribbons of white wake trailing behind them. It was windier out here, and my hair flitted about in my ponytail; a few strands tugged free and tickled my face.

  “It’s so pretty,” I said after I sipped my water. I balanced my bag higher on my shoulder.

  My mom would have loved it. The whirling air, the hot sun, the endless body of water stretching out far as the eye could see. She’d always wanted to live on the lakefront, had asked my dad to take us on vacation somewhere along Lake Erie several times that last summer. My heart painfully twisted, and for a rare moment I gave in to the emotion, remembering her gap-toothed grin and perpetually sunburned nose.

  It hurt so much to miss her. But strangely enough, it hurt even more to not think about her. Or my sister.

  Daniel interrupted my bittersweet thoughts. “My family and I used to go to Vermillion every summer when I was a kid—rented a cottage right on Lake Erie for the week.” He cupped a hand over his brow and peered out across the lake, down to the beach waiting below.

  “How many siblings do you have?” I found myself asking. My heart raced, and for a second I wished I could take it back. Knowing I was opening myself up to questioning now. Then I remembered how he’d backed off Friday night, had let me have space. He’d done the same at the drive-in too.

  If I was going to try to be more social, I needed to get used to talking to people. Despite the intense discomfort.

  “I have three younger sisters,” he said, shaking his head with a laugh. “God, they are a handful. Growing up, I never had hot water for showers.”

  “I couldn’t even imagine,” I said. Before he could ask me anything in return, I asked, “Wanna go down to the beach?”

  “Sure.”

  I strolled behind him down the sun-warmed wooden stairs. When my feet hit the bottom plank, almost entirely covered with sand, I sighed and stepped forward to dig my toes into the gritty warmth. There was nothing that could compare to that sensation.

  This truly was a heavenly moment.

  “So, do you have any brothers or sisters?” he asked innocently.

  The moment soured, and my stomach flipped. I stepped past him and willed my heart to slow down its erratic slam in my rib cage. “No.”

  Daniel stiffened, and I saw the questions in his eyes.

  Not now, please, I mentally pleaded. Today I just wanted to pretend to be a normal girl—or at least as close to normal as I could get. Not damaged or awkward or struck with a permanent case of foot-in-mouthitis.

  “Casey!” a light voice hollered from above us. I turned and saw Megan waving down at me, her other arm wrapped around Bobby’s bare torso. “We’re on our way down!”

  Never had I been more relieved to see her.

  Saved from the questions I’d been eager to avoid. I just hoped my bluntness hadn’t done any damage to the fragile threads binding him and me together.

  Chapter 10

  The elephant sitting on my chest finally lumbered off, freeing up the oxygen in my lungs, and I waved back at Megan. She would distract us all with her fun. And I could try to keep to my mantra of enjoying the day like everyone else.

  As she made her way down the stairs, I saw she carried her cooler. She ran over and hugged me, then whispered in my ear, “My God, Bobby is smokin’ hot today. Look at that washboard stomach. I want to lick him all over.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Somehow I doubt he’d complain too hard about that.”

  She pointed to the cooler. “So, I snagged some refreshments for us. And I decided we should take my dad’s boat and go have some fun. Get out of this crowded party for a while. What do you say?”

  On the one hand, salvation sounded perfect. I could have quiet time to relax with my roommate in a less overwhelming setting. But that would most likely involve Daniel and me watching her and Bobby clawing all over each other.

  Still, having her around would keep our conversation light enough that I could hopefully avoid any triggers.

  “Sounds great,” I finally said and glanced over at Daniel. “What do you think?”

  He gave me a wide smile and with the tips of his fingers just brushed the soft hairs on my lower arm. The touch was featherlight, barely discernable, yet my skin seemed to tingle even before the contact. “Can’t wait.”

  It was ridiculous how aware I was of him. Always. He did something to me, something I’d never experienced before.

  He made me crave.

  And I was going to be trapped on a boat with him, out on the water. God, I hoped I was ready for this.

  Megan whooped and grabbed Bobby’s hand. We all followed our fearless leader to her dad’s dock, where a small white boat sat bobbing in the water. It was comfortable enough to fit four. She tossed the cooler in, slathered on a little sunscreen and handed the bottle to me.

  “You’ll burn, pale girl,” she said with a wink.

  She was right—I barely lingered in the sunshine, and when I did I was sunscreened to the max. I put it on my exposed flesh, then handed the bottle to Daniel, trying to not swallow as he lifted his shirt to bare the lower half of his stomach. A small, light trail of hair led down into his shorts. He wasn’t as cut as Bobby, but he was toned, tight. I clenched my hands into fists and pressed them to my sides.

  I wanted to touch him, feel his sun-warmed skin against mine. Press my lips to his.

  I tore my gaze away before he could catch me staring and got into the boat behind Megan. The guys followed us. Daniel took the seat beside me, on the bench in the back of the boat, while Bobby was in the passenger seat beside Megan.

  “Hold on!” she cried out, then started the boat up and pulled it away from the dock.

  Warm air shoved at me from all angles as we flew along the water, but it was tinged with small sprays, which refreshed my heated skin. Daniel’s presence poured onto my right side. His knee brushed against mine, and I bit my lower lip. He’d dropped his shirt back down, but I couldn’t get the image out of my mind. His stomach was tan, something I hadn’t expected. Like he did yard work or was outside shirtless a lot.

  I fumbled for the water bottle in my bag and took another swig. It was hard keeping my attention off him. Trying to act casual when every little bob over the water would send his knee bouncing against mine.

  I could close my eyes, be spun in circles for a full minute and still know exactly where he was. My traitorous body had become hypertuned to his.

  “Hot out here,” Daniel said, and I raised an eyebrow abou
t his banal remark, only to find a smart-aleck grin on his face.

  “The sun does that to people,” I replied.

  His smile faded a bit as his face grew serious. “It also brings out all the highlights in your hair. It’s such a pretty shade.” He reached a hand up and toyed with a strand of hair in my ponytail.

  My heart skipped a couple of beats, then stuttered along. I swallowed; my body started to sway toward him, like a magnet to strong metal, and I made myself jerk back into place.

  “You two are awfully quiet back there,” Megan declared, head turned over her shoulder as she peered at us. Her eyes were slit in mock suspicion, and her hands clenched the boat’s steering wheel.

  “We’re just talking philosophy,” I said in a droll tone. “And keep your eyes forward so we don’t crash, please.” Daniel still was stroking the lock of my hair, and based on how close we were right now, she’d know it was a flat-out lie.

  “Huh. Looked more like chemistry to me,” she said but turned forward again.

  Bobby snorted in response.

  Ugh. I rolled my eyes at Daniel. He dropped my hair and moved back a fraction, laughing. But I felt his absence when he pulled away.

  When we reached a spot where the house was just a small blip on the distant coastline, Megan stopped the boat. We lulled gently along the water, a soothing rhythm that made me smile.

  Bobby stood, winked at Megan then dove into the lake. She squealed when water splashed us all. Daniel laughed and wiped his arms.

  Bobby’s head bobbed above the water. He wrapped a firm hand on the side of the boat, eyeing Megan like she was a three-tiered chocolate cake. “It’s refreshing in here,” he said in a low voice. “You should come . . . in.”

  I bit back a sarcastic groan. Really? That was the best he had? Megan, however, almost ripped her clothes off in an effort to strip down to her tiny bikini. She jumped in and squealed even louder when she hit the water. More drops splashed onto my heated skin.

  “Do you like to swim?” Daniel asked me. He stripped off his shirt in one smooth move, dug around in the cooler for a Gatorade and twisted the cap off. When he tilted his head back, his Adam’s apple bobbed just a bit; I turned my attention to my water bottle, hanging in my limp hands. Don’t stare, I ordered myself.

 

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