by Ward, Alice
My hair hadn’t been washed since I didn’t know when and I was sure it looked as though flock of birds had taken up residence in it and built themselves a greasy nest. I didn’t need a mirror to know my eyes and cheeks were puffy from all the tears, or that my nose was probably a red, raw mess. My gritty teeth suggested that my breath probably smelled like death.
Painful seconds ticked by on the clock by my bed without a sound from him. I was certain he was there; I could feel the heat of his body, the energy pulsating off of him. But after what felt like forever of not hearing anything, I started wondering if maybe I’d just imagined him being there. Maybe he’d left with Becca, or maybe he’d never really been there at all. Who knew what kind of hallucinations you could have after weeks of not leaving your bed.
I turned over on my bed, just to check and see if he was there, only to discover that I hadn’t been imagining his presence after all. Staring straight at me, standing in the center of my room, was Jace Richardson in all his faded jean, tattooed glory. I could feel my throat trying to work, trying to swallow, my lungs trying to breathe, but I couldn’t really be certain that my body was actually doing any of those things, not with the heat of his penetrating stare bearing down on me.
And then, just as I considered pulling the covers back on my bed to hide, he stepped toward me like a man on a mission. Jaw set and tight lips determined, his narrowed eyes locked my gaze with his, cemented me to the bed. Before I even realized what was happening, he had swooped me up off the bed and clutched me to his chest.
I suddenly felt horribly self-conscious when I realized I was wearing nothing more than a pair of boyshorts and a grey t-shirt. Becca had washed and forced me into them at some point since our return from Corpus Christi... how long ago had that been? And where had that shirt come from?
Jace had deposited me on the floor of my shower before I ever had the chance to sort it all out in my head, and by then, I was so confused about where I was and why, that all I could do was look up at his still determined gaze. But right then, a look of remorse or confliction—I couldn’t’ tell which—flickered across his face. Then he shook his head, and those deep chocolate eyes practically melted; I was so entranced by it that I barely even registered the movement of his arm, the squeak of the faucet, or the sound of water rushing through the pipes...
Until it was too late.
I didn’t even recognize my own screams, echoing off the shower walls, as the ice cold water rained down on me. Somehow, I’d managed to jump to my feet, even as my limbs flailed about, trying to ward off the water from the shower. I tried to jump out but crashed straight into Jace’s muscled chest. Desperate to escape the cold, I fisted a handful of shirt and tried to shove him out of the way. When that didn’t work, I pulled, hoping that maybe I could get him in the shower and escape at the same time. Instead, I only succeeded in pulling him under the freezing rain with me.
I screamed at the top of my lungs—most of the words intelligible—warm tears streaming down my face mixing with the freezing water as I pummeled his chest with my fists. He took every ounce of my anger, every last bit of my pain, never flinching or moving. And when I was finally too weak to do anything but crumple in his arms, he held me to his chest.
As the shivers racked through my body and my sobs turned to sniffles, I felt him reach around me and the water started to warm. “You know, I’m really starting to like the way my shirt looks on you,” he said, placing one hand firmly on my hip and cupping my chin, lifting my face to his, with the other.
I don’t know what I expected to find in those eyes—sympathy, annoyance, disgust, maybe—but none of those emotions could be found. Instead, I found warmth, empathy, and something else... the look of a man starved and depraved who had suddenly found his last meal. As he swallowed, the Adam’s apple of his throat moving slightly, I felt that hunger pulling at my insides, unravelling the bunched threads of my heart, and all the while the warmth and protectiveness of his touch grounded me in that moment.
I was sure he was going to kiss me, and I knew, despite the ache in my heart and the conflicted thoughts tugging at the back of my brain, I wanted him to. Lips parted on a hitched breath and my heart rate accelerating, I was bombarded with memories of our first kiss... but he only rested his forehead against mine.
Conflicted with feelings of guilt and disappointment, my chest heaved with short, heavy breaths as the water streamed around our faces, our gazes locked but neither of us moving. It wasn’t a kiss, but the closeness I felt to him, the intimacy of it all, wasn’t lost on me.
Then, just as I thought I might melt into a puddle and go right down the drain, along with the water, he clenched his eyes shut, as if looking at me caused him physical pain. I felt his hand ball against my waist. “You need to get ready if we’re ever going to get there in time,” he said, barely above a whisper as he lifted his head.
As he stepped out of the shower, I wanted to cling to him, to stay in our bubble that he’d created. It sounded so much better than the wallowing pit of despair I’d lost myself in over the past couple of weeks. But as he turned around to close the shower curtain, that cocky grin was back and I found myself annoyed by it. Then came the anger over him dumping me in the shower and dousing me with cold water. Who did he think he was?
“If you think I’m going anywhere with you, Jace Richardson..." I screeched, but he had already closed the door behind him.
CHAPTER FOUR
Forty-five minutes.
That’s how long it took to wash the pounds of grease from my hair, shave away the forest growing on my legs, brush away the grime from my teeth, and create a somewhat acceptable appearance of myself. I’d run a comb through my hair and tossed it up in a ponytail, but I still couldn’t find it in me to put on more than a tank top and a pair of yoga pants.
Jace, who was laying on my bed, looked up from the magazine he was reading. His raised eyebrows told me he was far from impressed by my choice of attire. “Are those clean?” he asked, his tone a little too paternal for my liking.
“Of course they’re clean,” I snapped, grabbing my purse from my dresser.
He sat up, chuckling. “Well, at least you’ve got your feistiness back,” he said, standing and then heading for the door.
My lips tightened into a scowl as he held the door open for me, but underneath that mask of annoyance, I found myself secretly relishing the slight bit of approval from him. “Where are we going?” I demanded as we made our way down the hall.
“You’ll just have to wait and see, firecracker.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “And what makes you think I want to go anywhere with you after..."
“After I kissed you and brought your five year relationship to a screeching halt?” he asked, ushering me into the passenger side of a stone grey pick-up truck.
I gasped, surprised by his candidness.
His shoulders bounced with a light chuckle. “Well, in all fairness, you did kiss me back,” he said, winking and then shutting me in.
As he made his way over to the driver’s side door, I tried my best to act unimpressed by his obviously new, well-cared for vehicle. But the truth was, I was amazed by the pristine leather seats, uncluttered floor boards and dust-free dash. Maybe it’s just a rental, I reasoned because, in my head, a guy like Jace Richardson wouldn’t own such a meticulously maintained vehicle.
“This yours?” I asked when he climbed in beside me, if for no other reason than to confirm my theory.
He gave a quick nod. “My baby,” he said, patting the dash. “She gets me where I need to go, transports all our equipment, and takes fiery girls to secret destinations.” There went that smug smirk again.
How could a man annoy me and bewitch me so completely, all within just moments of each other?
I was staring at him, trying to figure out the answer to my own question, when he started up the truck.
“Buckle up,” he said, putting the truck in gear.
I couldn’t help but n
otice the muscles of his forearms flexing as he did so, but I refused to let myself become transfixed by the rock god. “So, you’re not telling me where we’re going?” I asked, pulling out my cell phone, pretending to check for messages.
“Nope.”
“Well, can you at least stop by an ATM so I can grab some cash?”
He shook his head. “Not happening, firecracker. Today’s adventure is on me.”
“Adventure?” I asked, raising my eyebrows. “That suggests something outside of the norm.”
“Well, out of the norm for you, maybe,” he said, shooting me a sideways glance.
“It’s not another concert, is it?”
His laughter filled the small space between us. “No,” he said. “Not a concert.”
“You’re not taking me cow tipping or some crazy shit like that are you?”
He shot me another quick glance, brows raised this time. “Do I look like the kind of guy who goes cattle tipping?”
One glance over his tattooed arms and it was clear that he wasn’t. “No.”
“But if you’d like to go, I’ll try anything once,” he joked, lifting one side of his mouth into a sexy smile.
I shook my head and wrinkled my nose at him. “Uh, no thanks.”
Realizing I wasn’t getting anywhere with my interrogation, I turned my gaze out the passenger side window. Little by little, the city gave way to open fields and pastures. As pretty as the sky and sunsets were here, the open nothingness always made me a little homesick. But home made me think of Sean and all that I’d lost, and I wasn’t about to have another episode in front of Jace Richardson; who knew what he’d resort to next.
As if he knew I’d been thinking about him, Jace cleared his throat. “I’m really sorry.”
My head snapped in his direction. “For what?” A part of me wanted an apology for the kiss, for the constant feelings of desire radiating off of him... but a part of me didn’t, and it was that deep, dark crevice that had my throat going dry and my heartbeat sinking at the mere thought of him regretting the heated kiss that had ended my relationship with Sean.
“Spraying you with cold water.”
Not the kiss.
I couldn’t help but release the breath I’d been holding in a sigh of relief.
“What did you think I would say? The kiss.”
I turned my gaze away from those molten chocolate eyes, staring at my hands as I gnawed away at the inside of my cheek. I didn’t want to answer him, but I forced myself to nod anyway.
“Andrea, look at me.”
Slowly, hesitantly, I raised my eyes back to his.
“I will never apologize for kissing you,” he said before tracing his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. “I shouldn’t have let it happen that way, not before things had... not while you were with someone. But I still don’t regret doing it.”
Oh, God, who turned up the heat?
“And, for the record, I’d like to do it again sometime... when you’re ready.” His penetrating gaze held me, as if he were silently asking if I understood his words and the meaning behind them.
I really didn’t know what to say, not that it would have mattered; I couldn’t speak through the dryness in my throat anyway, so I just nodded.
Apparently having the response he’d hoped for, he returned his gaze to the road in front of us. The silence held an energy, something that I couldn’t quite name, but it sent my entire body into hyper-drive. I could hear his breathing as though it were my own. His body, filling the cab, seared my skin. And if I listened closely enough, I swore I could hear his heart beating in time with mine.
Miles passed without any other sounds or communication between us. All the while, thoughts spun through my head, like a washer on endless spin cycle. What did all this mean? How ready was I for something new when my five year relationship with Sean had only just ended a mere two weeks ago? And what in the hell was I doing even thinking that there might be more to me and Jace Richardson than a kiss? Than a fling? He may have been sex on legs and full of desire, but he could never give me the life I wanted.
CHAPTER FIVE
I knew where we were going long before we ever pulled into the overflowing parking lot. I should have been excited. Should have been squealing at the top of my lungs. But I was in too much shock.
“Have you been here?” Jace asked, putting the truck into park.
I shook my head, face and palms against the window.
All four years of college, I’d talked about going to Six Flags, but never once had I made it out. Studying, the newspaper, and my visits home had always seemed more important. And now, here I was, staring at the expansive lot, just before the entrance. With Jace Richardson.
If life wasn’t about as unpredictable as a tornado.
“Well then, come on,” he said, pushing open the driver’s side door.
I was by his side in a matter of seconds, hardly able to keep myself from bouncing up and down. He started walking, but I shot my hand out to grab his wrist. Slowly, he turned in my direction, that lightly stubbled face of his mirroring my own excitement. Before I could second guess myself, I pushed myself up on my toes and planted a kiss on his cheek.
“Thank you,” I whispered softly, letting my lips linger a little longer than they needed to. But when he turned his face toward mine and caressed my cheek, all the bravery I’d felt just seconds before faded away, turning into downright cowardice. “I—I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.”
“Don’t ever apologize for kissing me either, Andrea,” he said, voice raw with emotion.
I gulped and stepped back, the awkwardness of our moment in the middle of a theme park parking lot becoming a little too heavy. “So, where to first?” I asked, my voice quivering a little as I looked toward the main entrance.
His lips quirked up into that sexy, daring smirk. “To the Bat Cave, of course.”
***
Heart pumping hard against my chest, adrenaline rushing through my veins, I walked off of Batman, the Ride with shaky limbs and a grin that I couldn’t contain. “That was... Oh my, God! Can we ride it again?” I asked, clinging to Jace’s arm like a little child. I didn’t care how silly I looked, or whether or not I was getting too handsy right after my break-up with Sean. The only thing on my mind, right in that moment, was getting back in line to experience the thrill of being alive again.
“Nope, too many other rides to see,” he said, dropping his hand into mine.
I jutted my bottom lip out and gave him my very best pouty look. “But they won’t be as awesome,” I said, refusing to move my feet.
He tried to glare at me, but I could see the laughter in his eyes. “Andrea, trust me, they’ll be even better.”
“Fine,” I said, finally allowing him pull me through the crowd of people coming off the ride behind us.
Turns out, he’d been right.
At first, I couldn’t tell what we’d be riding. I could only see a large steel arch. It had to be at least fifteen stories high. But then, I saw the other riders, soaring through the air. “Oh. My. God!” I said, looking up in awe.
“You know, they say that the idea started out as nothing more than a sketch on a napkin,” Jace said, directing me through the crowd to the line for Dive Bomber Alley.
“Really?” I asked, unable to take my eyes off the tall arch looming above our heads.
“Yep,” he said with a nod, tilting his head back to watch another set of riders being pulled to the top. “It’s like bungee jumping, sky-diving and hang-gliding, all rolled into one adrenaline pumped ride.”
“Can we go together?” I asked, a swarm of butterflies flitting around in my stomach. Rollercoasters were one thing, but being suspended in the air by nothing more than a glorified rubber band made me a little nervous.
Jace tightened his grip on my hand and smiled. “You nervous?”
“No,” I snapped, head snapping to meet his eyes as I lifted my back and shoulders and attempted to act like I wasn’t about the
puke on the sidewalk.
“Okay, firecracker,” he said, that glint of humor in his eyes grating on my nerves. “If you say so.”
He left it at that as we stood there, waiting for our turn in line. He must have been able to tell I was most definitely nervous—probably thanks to my incessant fidgeting—because he finally leaned in toward me a little bit. “Of course we’re going up together,” he said, muttering so quietly that I barely heard him. “I wouldn’t ever let anything bad happen to you.” And then, as if he’d never even spoke at all, he straightened his body and stared straight ahead at the line in front of us.
Just two more people to go up and it would be our turn.
Anticipation and anxiousness began to bubble and brew as they stepped forward, bringing the churning in my gut to the brink of eruption. Now there was nothing between us and the ride except an iron gate. Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea. I could puke on someone’s head. Or the cable could break. Or...
“Relax,” Jace said, squeezing my hand. “You’re going to be okay.”
I was going to give him some snarky statement, continue the fearless act I’d started just a few minutes prior, but my throat wouldn’t work. And the look on my face had to have been priceless. I might not have had a mirror, but I could feel it—my wide eyes, the slight tremor of my bottom lip, the shakiness of my hands. So, instead of trying to play it off, I forced myself to focus on his hand, the way it concreted me to the ground, its warm protectiveness. And his words: I was going to be okay.
But I didn’t feel okay when they opened the gate for us to pass through. Acutely aware of the harness they were snapping me into, I listened to the clacks and clicks of metal on metal, forced myself to concentrate on breathing so I didn’t pass out.