by Beth Andrews
He wanted to ask her to stay.
Dangerous thoughts. The kind that could get a man into deep, deep trouble. The kind that could lead him to a place he should avoid. A detour that could destroy all his plans. Could mess up his calm, careful life and endanger the future he’d always dreamed of.
He watched the sway of her ass, the swing of her hips as she walked away, and thought she just might be worth it.
He shoved his hands into his pockets, his fingers curling into fists, and followed her. She opened the door and stepped out onto the porch before facing him. “I still don’t believe you, by the way.”
He stiffened. Had she somehow sensed his reaction to her? Had he given himself away? “About what?”
“About why you really went to Zach. You were hoping he’d get angry.”
Oakes frowned. That made no sense. “People don’t get angry with me,” he told her, shooting for amused but afraid he sounded more irritated. He may not be his father’s favorite son—Senior didn’t play favorites, not when he loved himself above everyone else—but Oakes was the favorite Bartasavich brother. The one his family all turned to when they needed help or a calming influence. He wasn’t like C.J., whose arrogance and bossiness rubbed the rest of their family the wrong way. Hadn’t deserted his family and stayed away for years like Kane. Didn’t use bitterness and resentment to keep others at arm’s length like Zach.
“I’m not sure if I should agree with you because that’s true,” Daphne said, “or step back to give your ego more room.”
He flushed. He wasn’t egotistical. Was he?
“I’m just saying that it makes no sense for me to antagonize Zach.” Not when he’d spent his entire life trying to get Zach to stop hating him.
A cool breeze lifted the ends of her hair, had the scent of her shampoo surrounding him. “Okay, I take it back. You didn’t want him mad at you. But you did want him to put his foot down. To demand you tell me you changed your mind and couldn’t take me to Shady Grove after all. Admit it, you went there hoping he’d stop us from going. Then you wouldn’t have to go back on your word, but you could still get out of taking me to the wedding.”
Oakes opened his mouth to deny it but the words stuck in his throat. It was rare times like this when he wished he was more like his father, spouting lies and half-truths, all in the name of protecting himself.
She stepped forward, laid her hand on his chest. His heart jumped underneath her fingers. “It’s okay,” she said quietly. “I know you’re scared of me.” She looked up at him through her eyelashes, but there was nothing demure about the wicked grin on her face as she rose onto her toes and whispered her next words in his ear. “You should be.”
He stood, still as stone, the blood rushing in his head, his body hardening from her closeness, her touch, as she lowered to her heels and trailed her fingertips down his sternum before turning and walking away.
She was wrong. He wasn’t scared of her.
He was terrified.
* * *
GRACIE WEAVER KEPT humming Christmas carols under her breath.
It was driving him nuts.
Luke Sapko ground his back teeth together and scrubbed harder at the toilet. It wasn’t that he had anything against Christmas songs—although they’d been playing them nonstop at the stores and restaurants since the day after Halloween. It was the fact that Gracie’s humming was so cheerful that drove him nuts.
He clenched his fingers around the handle of the toilet brush so hard, his knuckles turned white. If he had to scrub toilets—and not even the toilet he used at home, but a toilet that strangers used—the least fate or God or whoever was running things could do was let him do it in peace and quiet.
“I’m going to get started on the Blue Room,” Gracie said, packing up her bucket of cleaning supplies.
“Whatever,” Luke muttered, then ducked his head when she frowned at him. He hadn’t meant to sound so ticked off. He needed to do a better job of hiding his emotions.
Gracie sure was doing a good job of hiding hers.
Then again, maybe she wasn’t hiding anything. There he was, pretending all was right with the world, that he had no worries and was happy with how things were between them, when, in reality, he wasn’t sure how he felt.
Or what he wanted.
He shook the water off the toilet brush, dropped it in his bucket. That was the problem, wasn’t it? He wasn’t sure what he wanted, or at least, he hadn’t been sure last summer when he and Gracie had become friends.
He’d gotten hired at Bradford House, a bed-and-breakfast in Shady Grove, as part of the housekeeping crew. He hadn’t even known Gracie worked there until he’d arrived on his first day. They’d gone to school together since preschool and while they hadn’t exactly been friends, he’d always thought she was nice. Smart, too. But what really made her stand out was how unique she was. Quirky, his mom called it. Though some of the other kids at school preferred the term weird.
It all seemed to roll off her back, though, and he admired that about her. Sometimes he thought he worried too much about what other people thought, about how they perceived him, no matter how hard he tried not to.
So he and Gracie had become friends over the summer, which was easy enough to do because she was fun, even though at first she’d acted cool toward him. As if she didn’t like him, which, to be honest, hadn’t happened all that often in his life.
But then his girlfriend cheated on him and they broke up and Luke’s feelings for Gracie changed. Grew. He’d started liking her as more than a friend...
Too bad he’d messed it all up.
He may not have thought he and Kennedy, his ex, would wind up getting married, but he’d thought they’d last through high school. It was a blow, discovering she’d not only cheated on him, but that she’d done so by hooking up with his best friend, Drew.
His now ex-best friend, Drew.
From the moment Luke found out about Kennedy and Drew, Kennedy made it clear she wanted Luke back. As angry as he’d been, he’d still had feelings for her. So when Gracie showed up at his house one hot August afternoon and admitted that she liked him, he’d been thrilled—and totally confused.
He’d told her he and Kennedy had been talking, were considering getting back together. She’d handled it gracefully, but had told him that it would probably be better if they didn’t try to resume their friendship. At least, not right away. He’d had no choice but to agree.
And now it was four months later and the best way to describe their relationship was friendly acquaintances. The kind who smiled and said Hi when they saw each other in the hallways at school, who chatted casually about the freaking weather or weekend plans while at work.
It sucked.
Luke carried his supplies out into the hallway. He’d liked it better when they were closer, when she used to tell him things. When she’d come over to his house and watch a movie, or he’d go to hers and they’d hang out with her little brothers.
He’d liked it a lot better when she trusted him.
Now she only spoke to him when necessary and always in a polite, friendly tone, a distant one that grated on his last nerve.
He stepped into the Blue Room. As the name implied, it was very blue. Soft blue walls that reminded him of what his own room had looked like when he was a kid, a blue-and-white quilt on the double bed, deeper blues in the throw rugs covering the wide-planked, hardwood floor. Bradford House did a brisk business in the summer and into the fall, but not so much in the winter. Not many people wanted to spend their weekends in Shady Grove when it was freezing out and snow covered everything. They weren’t close enough to a ski resort to draw in that crowd and the snowmobilers usually stayed at one of the small motels outside of town, where they were closer to the woods and trails.
But now it was closing in on Christmas an
d apparently there was some big wedding taking place in town this weekend and Bradford House was booked from today until Sunday. And that meant overtime for him, which was good, but also more time spent with Gracie, which was not so good.
Maybe he should stop whining and make the most of it. Even if he wasn’t sure what he wanted from her.
He walked into the bathroom, which was also blue, bluer and bluest, to find Gracie scrubbing the bathtub. Even though no one had stayed in the room for the past two weeks, they needed to clean it as if it had been occupied just this morning. So Gracie was bent over the edge of the tub, her hips swaying with her movements. Her long, floaty top had risen, showing the backs of her thighs in her tight, dark leggings. His entire body went hard. Bam. Just like that.
Sometimes he really hated being a teenage boy. At least now that he was closing in on eighteen he could control his body’s reactions better, could stop things—namely his burgeoning erection—before they got out of hand.
Still, he felt almost guilty thinking of her as an object of lust. His mother would kill him if she thought he saw females as only bodies with soft, sweet-smelling skin and all those interesting curves, from boobs to waists to hips and thighs and ass.
What could he say? He was a guy. A damn lucky guy, who’d had sex regularly during the two years he and Kennedy had been together. A guy who hadn’t had it since he and Kennedy hooked up one night late last summer while trying to work things out.
They hadn’t. Worked things out, that is. He didn’t trust her and had realized he’d never trust her again. Their second breakup wasn’t as dramatic as their first, but at least so far, it had stuck.
Despite Kennedy still texting him almost-daily, sexy, flirtatious texts that let him know she still wanted him.
Sure, he could go back to her, if only for the sex. Or he could hook up with someone else. Plenty of girls were into him. Came on to him at parties or flirted with him in class. But he didn’t feel right about going out with them just to get laid.
And that reasoning was why he’d backed off from pursuing something with Gracie after he’d kissed her when they’d babysat his nieces. It had been right after breaking up with Kennedy, and before Gracie had admitted her feelings for him. He shouldn’t have done it. Shouldn’t have rushed things between them and risked their friendship. He hadn’t wanted to use her to get over Kennedy. Didn’t want to be the type of guy to use any girl that way.
He’d done the right thing by backing off. By making sure he really was over Kennedy. And had lost Gracie’s friendship in the process.
As if sensing him behind her, she stiffened and slowly turned, giving him enough time to avert his gaze to somewhere way more respectful and send her a wide-eyed, innocent look when he finally met her eyes.
He cleared the tightness from his throat. “Want me to clean the mirrors?”
“You mean so I’m stuck with the toilet?” she asked, but there was a slight teasing note to her voice, a small smile on her mouth.
He couldn’t help but smile back. “I did the last one,” he pointed out.
“Right. Fair is fair.”
That was Gracie. She wasn’t into drama or playing games. She was honest and levelheaded. She wasn’t like other girls his age. Even the clothes she wore were different, usually thrift-store finds, her outfits thrown together in a very bohemian way. She rarely wore jeans, preferring skirts or dresses, long or short, that she layered with colorful stockings or leggings.
Today she had on a floaty floral top over her leggings and a pair of pink camouflage combat boots. Her long, supercurly brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She stood and used the back of her gloved hand to swipe a loose curl from her forehead, but it just fell right back.
He wanted to offer to help, wanted to reach out and take that curl between his finger and thumb, maybe rub it for a quick second, feel its softness, release its scent. He knew her shampoo smelled sort of minty, but still sweet.
He fisted his hands and watched as she took off her glove and tucked the curl behind her ear.
It immediately sprang free.
She poured cleaner into the toilet. “Did you get your application sent in to Pitt?”
And this was what they’d been reduced to. Conversations about college applications, homework and lame teachers. He hated it.
“I’m still working on the essay,” he said, which wasn’t a complete lie. He was working on it. In his head. He’d just yet to actually start writing it. “What about you?”
She nodded. “Two weeks ago.”
Two weeks and he hadn’t known? Then again, they rarely talked in school. Though they shared two classes and a study hall, she seemed content to pretend they didn’t know each other at Shady Grove High and he didn’t want to do anything to make her feel uncomfortable. Plus, now that the B and B wasn’t very busy, they rarely worked the same hours, not like they had during the summer.
“I’m sure you’ll get in,” he said. Pitt was tougher to get into than most people realized, but Gracie’s grades were excellent, as were her SATs.
Something else they shared.
“Thanks. It would be nice, though I’d probably have to commute and I was hoping to have the whole on-campus, away-from-home college experience.”
Gracie’s family wasn’t exactly hard off, but her dad and stepmom had six other kids, all boys including a set of identical twins, and all under the age of eight, so her options for college were limited. “Did you apply anywhere else?” he asked, remembering she’d wanted to look in to schools outside of the Pittsburgh area, even though her parents had told her she had to go to school in-state to save money.
“Penn State,” she said. “The University of Pennsylvania—which is probably a long shot, considering it’s Ivy League and probably way too expensive even if I did get in. Are you thinking of applying anywhere else?”
“Dad wants me to try a few smaller schools, see about playing hockey, but since I haven’t played in the past two seasons, I doubt any college coach, even at a small school, will bother giving me a chance.”
He’d quit hockey at the beginning of last year to play football instead.
His parents and older brother and sister had all told him he’d regret quitting. They’d been right.
And he’d lick the toilet brush before ever admitting it.
Gracie stopped cleaning the toilet to study him. “I hadn’t realized you wanted to play hockey at the college level.”
He shrugged. “I used to want it. Until I realized how much work it would be, playing a sport at that level while trying to keep my grades up.”
Especially since he had no freaking clue what he wanted to do with his life. A common question people—adults mostly—loved to ask high school seniors.
She looked as if she wanted to say something, but then her phone, which was on the counter next to the sink, buzzed. And buzzed. She tugged off her gloves and he picked up her phone to hand it to her. He couldn’t help glancing at the screen. His fingers tightened on it and he had to force himself to let go when she reached for it with a grateful smile.
“Hello?” she said before pausing. “Oh, hi.” She turned her back to Luke. Another pause. “Actually, I’m working right now. Can I call you later?” Pause. “Okay. ’Bye.”
“I didn’t know you and Bryce Dennis were friends,” Luke said.
Her cheeks pink, she turned off her phone. Set it back on the counter, but had to reach around him to do so. The flowery scent of her soap filled his nostrils and he inhaled deeply, shutting his eyes at the soft brush of her inner arm against his side, the slight pressure of her hip against his thigh before she stepped back. “We have AP Gov together,” she said as if that explained everything.
“So he was calling about homework?”
She raised her eyebrows. Probably because he’d sounded pissed
off. “Not that it’s any of your business, but he called to talk to me. We...talk sometimes.”
Luke had no idea what that meant. Girls. Why couldn’t they just say what was on their mind, what they were thinking? “I figured that,” he said, sounding like a brat and feeling weird...sort of uptight and antsy and jittery. “Considering I just heard you talking to him on the phone.”
“Oh. Right.” She lifted her slim shoulders. She was so tiny compared to him. Compared to most people. Petite, his mom had called her after she’d been to his house that first time. Like a pixie. And that was what she reminded him of, with her colorful outfits and her huge hair that seemed to float around her shoulders. “I meant that Bryce and I are talking.” Her voice was matter-of-fact but she kept her attention on making halfhearted swirls inside the toilet bowl with her scrub brush. “We’ve gone out a few times.”
Luke blinked. Blinked again. There was a roaring sound in his ears, like a freight train was rushing by inside his head. “You’re Bryce’s girlfriend?”
“We’re not exclusive or anything,” she said in that way she had of sounding carefree, as if she had everything figured out. “I guess if you had to classify it or define it, the correct term would be that we’re dating.”
They were dating? And no one had told him?
What the hell?
Shady Grove was a small town and the high school was even smaller. He should have heard talk about them seeing each other. But then, he and Gracie didn’t run in the same crowd—a fact she’d tried to point out to him last summer, but he’d brushed it aside because he thought all of that bullshit about popular kids and jocks and nerds and geeks not interacting was stupid.
Mainly because it had never applied to him. If he wanted to be friends with someone, he was friends with them. But that hadn’t stopped him from spending the majority of his time with the kids who had the same interests. Kids he’d been friends with almost his entire life. The same crowd he was still a part of that included his ex-girlfriend and his ex-best friend. Athletes and cheerleaders and members of student government.