by Ciara Knight
I need you, Ton. If only I had a phone. He was the only one besides my mother who could calm me after an attack. Of course, if I called he would be at my side in a matter of hours. He was a saint.
The longer I sat alone rocking, the more I was glad I didn’t have a cell phone. Ton was a crutch, a great person who needed to move on, who needed to stop taking care of me. Calling him would ruin everything I had accomplished so far. My freakish behavior had no doubt just cost me the first job I was ever excited about, not to mention the benefit of eye candy on a daily basis.
After an hour of contemplating my options, I relaxed against my pillow of T-shirts and my hoodie. The darkness surrounded me in a comforting cocoon, allowing me to hide and mend. I would never return to Bands, but perhaps I would find something else. I couldn’t give up. There had to be something.
“Mother, I’ll make you proud,” I whispered into the darkness, imagining her sitting by my bed singing to me.
Bang. Shuffle.
“Scarlet?” Drake called from below.
He found me? How?
I silently returned to my wall, pulling my knees into my chest and holding my breath.
“Scarlet, if you’re here, please answer me. I’ve been looking for you for hours. I shared the address you wrote on your application with Walter, but neither of us could figure out where it was. Then he said he saw you around this block. A bouncer working at that new club across the street said a girl in a hoodie ran in here.” Another bang sounded then footsteps on the cement floor below.
Damn, I’d been too upset to pay attention when I ran home. Great, now I’d probably lose this place to every homeless person in twelve blocks.
Light shone through the hole where my climbing pipe snaked through. It grew smaller and brighter until I knew he stood at the bottom.
“Are you up there?” A hint of disbelief sounded in his voice.
I scooted toward the corner where the shadows remained the darkest, but my shoe squealed against the cement floor. I held my breath.
“I hope that’s you up there. I’m deathly afraid of rodents. You must be something special to get me to climb a pipe in a creepy warehouse at o’ dark thirty.”
Banging rippled up the pipe and echoed through my small second-floor room.
The hair on the back of my neck stood up with anticipation. What would I say? How would I explain what happened? How would I explain why I was here? It was easier not to see him than to face that look of horror and disappointment again. A few tears slid down my cheeks and I swiped them away with the long sleeve of my worn gray T-shirt.
A clanking sounded. “Damn.” He sighed. “Well, I was due for a cell phone upgrade anyway.” His hand reached through the hole in the floor and I wanted to scream for him to leave. Perhaps he wouldn’t see me and he’d give up and go away.
He reached the second floor and stepped from the pipe before shuffling around. “That flashlight app would come in handy right now.” The aroma of his cologne wafted ahead of him, and my eyes could make out the strong outline of his body. “I know you’re in the corner. I can hear you breathing.” He shuffled toward me until he stood inches away, then lowered to his knees. “Scarlet, talk to me. Why’d you run off like that?”
I bit my bottom lip, thankful he couldn’t see the fresh tears forming in my eyes. What the hell was I crying for? I had a job for a few weeks. So what if Hawaiian was pretty cool? What did it matter? I’d just have to find another job.
“I’m not leaving until you talk to me. I hope it’s before I scream like a little girl when something scurries across this room.”
He didn’t hunt me down just to give up. I knew that the moment he started climbing the pipe. But why would he go so far for someone like me?
“Saved you the trouble of firing me,” I muttered. “So you can leave now.”
“Fire you? Why would I fire you?” Drake’s voice rose above his normal baritone.
“I hurt one of your customers and made a scene.”
“They weren’t customers. They were creeps. They’ve been trying to play at Bands for months now, but I’ve rejected their proposal every time.” He shifted, as did his voice. “They probably attacked you because they discovered you worked at Bands. When you mentioned the incident with the skaters a while back, I should’ve realized who they were. I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I’m sorry they touched you like that, and I’m sorry I failed you. I should’ve handled it before you got hurt.” He scooted closer. “Are you…hurt?” He lowered his hand and sighed. “I’m not sure what’s going on, but why are you here?”
“I live here.” I reached down and turned on the lantern.
He blinked, looking around my home with wide eyes. “You live…here?”
“Yes. It’s better than staying at a shelter. I like it.”
He looked back at me, but I turned my face away before I could see his expression, the disgust and pity. “I think Walter’s right.”
Not the response I’d expected. I looked at him, confused. “About what?”
“You are an amazing woman, staying in this place all by yourself. But why didn’t you tell me you were homeless?”
“I’m not homeless. This is my home. It’s perfect.”
His mouth fell open in an un-Drake-like way. He quirked an eyebrow. “You must have the strength of a Sumo wrestler, even though you’re the size of a fairy. You never complain, you’re a genius with numbers, full of amazing ideas, and Lord knows what else. Oh, and you eat real food, not that rabbit crap most girls eat.”
Heat flushed my entire body. I had to look like a troll doll, with red skin and my wild purple hair. “You’re just trying to make me feel better about embarrassing myself in front of the entire club.”
“Embarrass? Did you not hear the clapping?”
“Clapping?” I dared to meet his gaze.
“You didn’t, did you?”
I shook my head. The only thing I remembered were the dozens of people gawking at the pathetic girl making a scene.
“I guess you must’ve been a bit out of it. After you got done kicking both their asses, the entire club gave you a standing ovation.”
What? “Really?”
He scooted closer, so close I could feel his breath on my face. “You need to come back to the club with me. You can’t stay here.”
“You’re my boss at work, not at home.”
He retracted, scrubbed his jaw, and glanced around the room. “It’s not about being your boss. I’m also your friend, someone who doesn’t want to see you get hurt in a place like this.”
“I’ve lived in worse.”
A grumble sounded from somewhere in his throat, but he stopped it before it turned into a full growl. “I know you can handle yourself, but you don’t need to stay here. You can stay at the club until we can find something for you.”
“We? I take care of myself. I always have, and I always will.”
His expression morphed from furrowed-brow Neanderthal to blank-affect politician. “We need you at the club. How will I ever pull off the Battle of the Bands without you? Not to mention Walter threatened to kick my ass if I didn’t bring you back. And you know, I’m almost as scared of him as I am rodents.”
I chuckled aloud. I couldn’t remember the last time someone made me laugh. Ton was always so serious, spouting his montage of no drugs, no lying, no promiscuity. He taught us how to keep ourselves in check. My finger brushed the X on the back of my wrist. The world of Straight Edge would be safe for me, a place where I knew the rules and how to follow them.
But I didn’t want safe.
“That’s a sound I could get used to. It’s been a while since I’ve laughed with anyone.”
I dared to look at him, his eyes, his stubbled jawline…his lips. My gaze held there for a moment. My mind hurtled over my fears and landed on a thought. A thought of his kiss.
“I know I’m risking a major sexual harassment suit here, but there’s something I’ve been wanting to do f
or weeks.” He eliminated the last of the space between us. The heat of him, or my excitement, or the joy or fear, warmed my chest and flushed my face. His lips pressed to mine—firm, quick, electric.
Then it was no more. No more pressure on my lips, no more arousing aroma, no more touch, yet my heart continued to thunder inside my chest faster than a snare drum in a pop-punk show.
I couldn’t remember ever feeling like that, not from a kiss. Heck, I didn’t like kissing. Just the idea of exchanging slobber was gross, but…that wasn’t. Far from being grossed out, I craved more.
After hesitating, I mimicked his movement by leaning forward and pressing my lips to his. For a moment, I lingered, enjoying the soft pressure. Then my lips did something unthinkable. They parted, and my tongue slid across the seam of his mouth.
Horrified, I retreated to my space, my mind racing with this newfound touch. My fingers absently brushed my mouth.
“So, does that mean you won’t be pressing charges for sexual harassment in the work place?”
I laughed. The weight of nine years in the social services system felt lighter, the tension in my shoulders easing. Somehow, he made me feel airy, as if I could fly away on a cool breeze.
“I’m glad you’re here.”
He glanced around the small room then back at me. “Come back to the club with me. You don’t belong here anymore.”
“No. I can manage.”
He sighed. “Oh, I have no doubt, but it’s not about that. The thought of anything happening to you here…” His voice cracked. “I know we haven’t known each other long, but I don’t want to lose someone else.”
The quiver in his voice clawed at my resolve. He understood loss, the way I did.
“You need to—”
“I need to be alone.”
He leaned away from me, his posture rigid. I’d offended him, but I couldn’t go back with him, not right now. As Ton would put it, I needed a sensory break. Music, sleep, no people. “I know you’re used to getting what you want, and I know you don’t understand, but I need to be here alone tonight.” I bowed my head, knowing how messed up that sounded.
He pressed his lips together as if to stop his next words, then he pushed from the ground and nodded. “I can’t force you, but I urge you to think about it.” He made his way to the pipe with a slight side step at a noise along the wall. In a matter of seconds, he climbed down, and I could hear him scoop up his phone and slam the door closed behind him.
I crumbled into a ball, blocking the world from my craziness. Images of my mother holding me, telling me to take a chance on life again filled my dreams. Sometime in the morning, I woke from the most delicious dream. Drake held me in his arms and I felt cocooned in warmth and pleasure, my body satisfied and relaxed.
With raging hormones and no cold shower, I decided to head to Bands early and hopefully find a way to break in so I could shower off instead of going to the YMCA. My palms slid against the metal pipe until I reached the bottom floor. The sound echoed and drove a spike into my ear, but I shook it off and turned to find Drake in the far corner of the warehouse propped against a wall, asleep.
Chapter Eleven
I crouched by his side to watch him sleep. He looked peaceful lying against his jacket propped on the wall. He’d spent the entire night here? Why?
His slack jaw told me it was safe to move closer, so I lowered to my hip, my legs only an inch from his strong thighs. The world outside had begun to awaken, with its honking horns and shouts, but inside it remained private, safe. Safer than I’d felt in a lifetime, with no eyes staring at me, no words to confuse me, no threat of being touched.
I inched closer. So close, I saw the stubble on his cheeks. I watched him for a moment, looking for any signs of waking. The only indication he even lived was the soft sound of air releasing through his parted lips. Not knowing what possessed me, I lifted my fingers to his chin. Could I touch such rough, sharp hair? What would it feel like against my fingertips?
My pulse did a pounding cadence, but I leaned closer. After a deep breath, I brushed my nails against his growing beard. It tickled slightly, but didn’t hurt. Folding my fingers, I ran my knuckles along his jawline. His mouth closed and I waited for him to stir, but he didn’t.
This felt good, right, but I didn’t know why. I continued my exploration up the other side to his ear. His breathing changed to a shallow exhale. His bottom lip opened a little farther, as if he needed more oxygen, then returned to its original position. The rose-colored flesh of his lips called to me with the promise of the euphoria I’d experienced last night when I’d kissed him. I longed to feel the pressure of his mouth to mine again. Was it a fluke last time? Would I run screaming from the building with the first hint of contact?
If I wanted to know for sure, now was my opportunity. Even if he was awake, something told me he understood and wouldn’t touch me. I needed this, needed to know if I had a chance to tear free of my life swaddled in fear and rejection.
I hovered near his lips. My heart sped and I halted. Two breaths filled my lungs while I waited for my body to calm. The flutter inside my heart continued, but it encouraged instead of warned against my advance.
I brushed my lips to his. A pleasurable hum radiated down my neck, back, arms, and legs. But no gut-twisting pain sent me retreating from him. My mouth relaxed and we melded together like the melody and base line of a song. Such a simple act, kissing, but the myriad of emotions surging through me were complicated, fresh, new. I savored the moment, allowing myself to feel. Feel a connection for the first time in my life.
I leaned back and saw his hooded eyes, but he didn’t move, didn’t speak. I knew he wanted more, the way his face relaxed and his eyes smoldered. I looked into his eyes and breathed, then pressed my lips to his once more. This time I nipped around the edges, tasting him, breathing him. Enjoying him.
No hands moved to touch me. He was like a sleeping prince waiting to come to life from my kisses. And I obliged.
I raked my tongue along the crease until he parted slightly and I dipped inside with slow, deliberate movements. His chest rose and fell with an exaggerated breath, but he remained still. Every man I had ever been with would have ripped my clothes from my body at this point. Drake was something different. He possessed a control I wish I had, but even now, my body started to heat in warning.
Parting his lips farther, he brushed his tongue against mine, sending a delicious warmth through my scalp and down my spine. With rhythmic accuracy, he found a pattern that made sense to my brain, yet swirled my head. Tender, loving, yet suggestive strokes brought me closer, but I remained a few inches from his body.
My nerves sang a new tune with a brilliant melody, a calm violin concerto that would soothe any savage beast. His tongue was magical, enticing me, drawing me to want more, but he softened the kiss, his tongue delicately dancing along my lower lip like a firefly until he leaned back.
“Wow,” he breathed.
I smiled and sat back on my heels, lowering my head. “Yeah, wow.” My hands hadn’t even trembled, and my body was warm. I’d controlled the inner slut that always ruled and enjoyed a real kiss for the first time in my life. It was magical and I wanted more.
In one fluid motion, I tugged him to his knees and scooted forward until our legs were touching. One of his hands clutched my elbow and he guided me closer. Our bodies flush against each other, I felt his growing need pressing into my stomach, and I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anyone.
My breasts ached for his touch. I pressed myself against him harder and clutched his hips. He moaned, and I thought I’d lose my mind with need. His tongue continued its exploration while one hand moved up my side. When his thumb brushed my breast, I thought I’d come undone. I clutched his belt and unbuckled it as he tugged the hem of my shirt up.
His hand found its way to cup my breast and I groaned, feeling wetness pool between my legs. I lunged forward, longing to find relief, and he wrapped his arms around me, guiding me to th
e ground to lay on top of him.
I separated my legs, trying to push myself against his thigh to find some relief from the pulsing in my groin. It only became more maddening. I was reaching for his pants when his hand cupped the back of my neck.
Warning shots fired all over my body. I gasped and shoved from him, shaking with the rush of hormones and the desire to scream at the volts of electricity shooting through me. My neck. Why my neck? I shivered and scooted away, pulling my shirt down and crossing my arms over my chest to hide my erect nipples.
He sat there, leaning back on one elbow, with a massive bulge in his pants, breathing heavily. “Scarlet? What’s wrong? What did I do? If I did something wrong, I didn’t mean to. You just feel so good.” Scooting onto his knees once more, he ran his hand through his hair, lines formed between his brows.
I kept trembling, fighting the inner war of sensory overload that I could never seem to win. Tears flooded my vision, which pissed me off more.
Drake scooted closer. “I didn’t mean to pressure you. I don’t know what came over me. And then you responded and I—”
“It’s my fault. Don’t worry about it. You should go.” This wasn’t going to work. I needed to not do this again. I started rocking, and the tears started flowing.
“Please, Scarlet. Talk to me. What’s going on? My brother was brilliant but had issues. I think you might be a little like him. I mean, nothing like him, but brilliant minds tend to have unique needs. Tell me what you need, Scarlet.”
“I need you to leave.” I traced the X over and over again.
“What is that?”
I clasped my hands together to stop tracing the promise I had made to myself. The one I nearly broke when the first hot guy walked by. I couldn’t do this. I’d needed to learn how to control myself.
He reached out. “Scarlet?”
I cringed and shrank back.
“Touch. That’s what happened earlier tonight with those guys. I saw him touch you, then an instant later you had them both on the floor crying. Just now, I wrapped my arms around you and pressed your body too hard or something.”