Red: Fiery Finale (Spectrum Series Book 8)

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Red: Fiery Finale (Spectrum Series Book 8) Page 15

by Allison White


  The entire way to her place, which turns out to be an apartment, Red is silent after giving me the address that I plug into the car’s high-tech navigation system. I don’t understand what could have spooked her so much; she’s so silent. And I don’t understand why she won’t tell me what’s wrong. Doesn’t she know that I’ll defeat anything that upsets her or threatens us in any way?

  The neighborhood she’s surrounded by is cracked concrete, graffiti buildings, ominous people standing on corners, and broken glass in her apartment building. Witnessing all of this just makes me wanting her to move in with me that much more intense. This place is not so charming, but I can’t just drag her into my ritzy condo by her hair, now can I?

  “Want me to walk you in?” I ask cautiously, eyeing a boy with shifty eyes cross the street to the other side of the road.

  “No, I think I’m fine, babe,” she says mockingly.

  I shift my eyes to her smile; my shoulders relax. “You sure? I can ward anyone off that wants to fuck with you.”

  Her shoulders tense. “Doubt it.” She leans over the center console and kisses my cheek. I turn my face and kiss her on the lips. I smile as she pecks me once, twice, three times before pulling back with brighter eyes. This is what I like to see. “Thanks for the ride. I’ll call you later,” she promises then gets out of the car. I watch her barrel past the front door and wait a few minutes, just in case…

  I only leave when I receive a text from her.

  Red: you can leave now weirdo x

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Red

  The next day I’m actually working. I feel bad for skipping out on my little date with Noah yesterday, but I had to deal with…something.

  “Have you ever seen Final Destination?” Majesty asks inquisitively, almost pointedly. I can see her cross her feet from under the small space I’m offered.

  “Yes,” I groan as I twist the wrench. I feel the knob getting tighter, but it takes most of my strength to really tighten it. I do not need this.

  “Are you sure?” she asks, her words almost drowned out as she takes a large slurp of her strawberry-banana smoothie. There’s barely any left, and I’m stuck listening to her trying to suck out every last drop hiding in corners.

  “Yes, I’m sure, Maj.” She can be infuriating sometimes but wholesomely good. She’s like a breathtaking rose that stings you with a single thorn you didn’t notice. That and she’s playing twenty-one questions when now is literally the worst time.

  “I don’t think you paid attention to it, though,” she claims, and I hear a soft thud and rustling. She must have finally thrown out the empty plastic cup. “Because you’re under a car that probably weighs a ton.”

  My laugh is hearty. “This is my job, Maj.” She’s stood by and kept me company plenty of times, but that doesn’t mean she’s grown accustomed to it.

  “To what? Get your head smashed to bits so you look like ground beef? You know I can’t stand the sight of beef. Why are you doing this to me? Being so damn insensitive.” She is the most dramatic person I know.

  “I’m sorry me doing my job offends you,” I say sarcastically. “And don’t you have to pick up our orders?” I would go since she has always to go to two separate places, the halal store around the corner and a regular deli a few blocks over, but I have two cars to go for the day.

  “No way I’m leaving you. What if you’re just mush when I come back?” She says this every time, but her hunger always prevails.

  I slide out from under the Honda Civic, panting with a smile. “I think I’ll be fine. Plus, Hank’s here if any heads get smooshed.” I gesture behind me to my friendly enough coworker. He and I are similarly dressed in blue coveralls. Grease covers us both. And when I swipe my hand across my forehead, she giggles. Great. Now I have a black mark on my face.

  “Is Hank really that reliable?” she leans in to whisper but quickly raises a hand and flashes him a smile. “Hey, Hank!” She waves like a madwoman, and I let my eyes roll at her madness.

  “Maj, I’ll be fine. Now please go before our sandwiches get cold.” I wave her away, or at least try to, because she’s not budging. “Seriously, Maj, you’ll be back in, like, fifteen minutes, twenty tops. Go before I have to side-eye you for the rest of the week because you brought back freezing sandwiches.”

  She doesn’t look like she’s going to budge, but after a while of raising my eyebrows to emphasize how cynical she’s being, she groans theatrically and gives me a hug, despite the grease covering me.

  “I’ll be right back. Promise,” she mutters into my hair.

  “I’m getting your shirt and hijab dirty with grease,” I remind her.

  “I don’t care,” she says, hugging me tighter. I begin to smile because she’s willing to get her hijab dirty. And it’s her favorite and compliments her honey-brown eyes.

  “That’s actually kind of swee—”

  “Wait. You’re kind of right. I washed this just yesterday.” She takes a step back, and I laugh as she lifts up the silky material, searching for any dark spots.

  “Go now, please.” I smile at her softly before turning to the car I’m fixing up. It’s nearly done; I just have to run a few tests and twiddle a few things in the engine. After all that’s done, I have two other cars to move on to: a minivan and a muscle car.

  “Fine, push me away like you did Noah yesterday,” she says, and I sigh. I face-palm myself, and I don’t care that I’m marring my face even more with slick oil.

  “Don’t start this again, please,” I plead softly. I can’t even try to muster up the anger I feel about her bringing up this sensitive subject. I can never raise my voice at her. She’s a sweet girl and my best friend who, believe it or not, cares about me. A lot.

  “Fine, fine—I won’t. But you two are meant to be, and it’s killing me you won’t trust him with what’s going on. I mean, you guys are back together, right? So what’s holding you back now?”

  “We already discussed this, Maj.” I avoid her gaze. I can’t look or I’ll breakdown. And I do not want to cry in front of Hank.

  Thankfully, she eases up and says, “I’ll be back soon. But you can at least stop dodging the poor boy. You didn’t call him back yesterday.” Why I spill to her about everything will forever be a wonder to me. I guess you can never hold back from those big, brown, puppy-dog eyes.

  Noah has the warmest, most genuine soul and heart I have ever encountered. You think the world’s gone to complete shit, and then you look at him, and for that one second, you just know—you know that there’s hope and it swells in the center of his massively warm heart.

  When she finally leaves me feeling guilty, I make myself busy with the muscle car. I’m under the car checking for what’s wrong when I’m sucked into the messy hole into my brain. I try not to think too much about him, but when I see even a sliver of his smile in my head, I can’t shake him, can’t shake the idea that makes up the being that is Noah Wells.

  Like Majesty said, we’re back together, but I’m holding something back from him. I’m just terrified of losing him again. I nearly died of heartache the last time I screwed up, I don’t want to go through it again.

  Back in Saint Martin, I told him everything I was hesitant, afraid to tell him. I was terrified that he would push me away and cast me out of his life forever, have his father fire me.

  And then I hated myself as he held me in his arms like he’d lose me forever if he let go, like he would stop breathing without me in his lovely arms. Because my sweet, precious Noah isn’t like that. He tried when we first saw each other the morning after he helped me with that asshole at the club. And then again at his father’s company.

  But even as he barked at me and his words slithered, I saw past his façade. Saw the love for me that never went away when I left. Not even a fraction was gone. It was all there, all waiting for me to come back. And now that I’m here, I don’t want to go. But I have to for his sake and his alone.

  I sigh and shift my thoughts
onto someone my heart can manage a little better: Majesty.

  She’s made it her job to stick by my side ever since I came back from my work trip a few weeks ago. Apparently when you sort of re-kindle your relationship with the guy you love and are injured on top of that, your best friend has to stick to you like white on rice. I appreciate her being the best friend anyone can have.

  I hear the buzzing before I feel it—my phone. Thinking it’s Majesty, I slide out from under the muscle car and walk over to the wooden table where they go, so we can stay focused on the job. I grab mine and answer it immediately.

  “Did Aafa give you goat meat instead of chicken again? I swear, the man is half-blind. Just give the shop to his son already. He’s back from Indonesia, right? I thought I saw him in the shop last time we went.” I stop talking when I hear a rather low, familiar rumbling laughter. “Majesty?”

  “Try again, love.” His voice is sweet as usual.

  Noah.

  I should have known; my heart’s been going crazy inside my chest.

  Plastering on a smile even though he can’t see me, I say, “Sorry, I didn’t look before answering.” Then I pause and unsurely add, “What’s up?”

  What’s up? Ugh. I sound like such an idiot.

  He laughs nonetheless. “I just missed hearing your voice, seeing as you didn’t call yesterday, like you promised.”

  He says it so nonchalantly, my heart flutters. Actually flutters. I have become so soft because of him. I’m practically putty in his stupidly large, attractive hands.

  “Sorry ’bout that, work got crazy,” I lie and rub the back of my neck. “And that’s all, prep?” I step outside of the garage and into the sunny day. I lean against the brick wall, foot propped behind me. “You just missed me so dearly another second without hearing me would result in your death?” I tease.

  “Yes,” he says simply. I wait for him to say he’s kidding, but when he doesn’t, I’m smiling from ear to ear.

  “Shut up,” I tell him, unable to form any coherent words. My mind always gets jumbled when he’s sweet, which is all the time. I wonder how I ever held a conversation with him.

  His laugh is contagious, but I bite on my thumbnail to keep mine at bay. “That and I was wondering if you would come out of your work cave today. Maybe come by the stadium and watch me practice.”

  “Conceited much? Noah, you don’t have to show off your body. I’ve seen it already.” I don’t need to be where he is to know that he’s grinning like a fool, my fool. “But I’ll be there. I have to finish up at work first.”

  “Sure, yeah. But I wouldn’t take my time; girls are already starting to flock on the stands. Hey, Holly!” I hear him holler, and I make a fist. “Did I get you? I totally did, didn’t I?”

  “No…” I loosen my fist, blushing.

  He exhales and lowers his voice oh so gently. “Oh, sweet Red, there is no girl who would capture my attention like you do. No girl who can get me hard in two seconds flat—”

  “Noah,” I groan and fist my hair, closing my eyes. I bite my lip and let my mind drift to that moment between us oh so many months ago. This boy. This freaking boy has no idea what hold he has over my heart, mind, body, and soul. My body especially, in this moment.

  “I’ll be there in an hour or two,” I tell him.

  “Roger that, I’ll save you a seat. I can even have someone sit on the spot, make it all warm and cozy for you,” he jokes.

  I groan, scrunching my nose, and shake my head. “I wouldn’t like that very much, so…fuck no. Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

  “You mean get ready to totally flex in front of my…awesome friend. I mean you, of course.” His voice sounds tight toward the end, and I sigh knowingly.

  “I’ll be there soon,” I say softly before hanging up. Fisting my hair with both hands, I wonder, Why does this have to be so hard?

  ***

  “Yas, bitch! Go, go, go!” Majesty screams like a lunatic beside me. I smile at her enthusiastic fist pumps as she watches her brother run toward the endzone with a guy chasing him.

  “Who are you rooting for?” I ask her. It’s funny, she despises her brother a lot, but they have their moments. But I can’t tell if this is one of them or she’s rooting for his down-fall, literally.

  “Who do you think?” she scoffs then bursts out clapping when her brother gets tackled a few feet away from the endzone. I chuckle and shake my head when he pops onto his feet and yells “fuck you too!” and sticks up his middle fingers.

  She merely giggles and waves her middle fingers. Calming down, she drops into the seat beside me and thrusts her shoulder into mine, wiggling her eyebrows. “So how much are you thinking of banging him?”

  “Who?” I ask innocently enough, averting my eyes from a certain someone playing with their hair.

  She nudges me again, grinning. “You know who.”

  I look at Noah and sigh, watching him finger his hair. I wish he’d finger me…and I don’t even scold my dirty subconscious, just agree with it. “I’m not thinking of banging him,” I lie.

  “Uh-huh.” She nods knowingly, smirking.

  I feel my cheeks heat up as I stammer, “I—that doesn’t—shut the hell up.”

  She chuckles loudly and pulls me into her arms before patting my head. “You smell like grease and armpits.”

  “Sorry I didn’t have time to shower,” I say sarcastically, sliding out of her hold. I grip the edge of the metal bench, focusing my attention on Noah. He’s wearing a white shirt that’s dirty with grass stains and gray sweatpants. Thank God for sweatpants because holy fuck. Dick prints are what truly bless this world.

  “Red!” He calls my name. I almost don’t hear him, too busy checking out his junk. He really needs baggier pants. I growl, listening to the group of bitches behind me whisper about him.

  Before I can help the jealousy and protectiveness, I whip around, scowling. “Shut the fuck up or I’ll punch every single one of your tits until they hang out of your asses like sad little balls.”

  Their faces drop, and they shut the hell up.

  Majesty looks petrified but stays silent.

  “Coming!” I beam as I stand up and skip down the stairs. I hang over the railing, and Noah does some ninja shit to stand on the floor above the ground, meeting my eyes.

  “You came,” he says, grinning like the puppy he is.

  “Of course I did.” I mimic him, and his eyes shine with an emotion I can’t identify. “You need better pants that that.” I nod down, and he glances down, then frowns.

  “What’s wrong with these?” he asks, truly confused.

  Oh, how innocent he is. I don’t like it when there are bitches fantasizing over him. Only I can. Like, fucking ever.

  “They’re ugly.” I say the first thing that pops up in my head.

  He frowns wholesomely. “Oh…”

  Ah shit.

  “That and your dick’s out for show. I had to shut those bitches up because of it. Keep him, you know, in his little cage. These pants aren’t doing the job, and I’m just concerned for your well-being, saving you from sexual harassment.”

  Instead of scolding me like he normally would, he throws his head back and laughs. But I need to see his dimples. The whole world can see Red Sylvetti stare in awe at a boy’s dimples, his face, his damn dick—I don’t give a crap. And I know I shouldn’t be doing this. I told myself he needs space from my toxicity, but I. Just. Can’t. Help. It.

  I cup his cheeks and pull his head down. “That’s better,” I say before he can stop.

  He’s chuckling now, cheeks jumping in my hands, and I break out into a genuine, wide smile. I love to watch him light up like this, like he has the entire sun between his ears, engraved in teeth.

  “Hey, Noah!” I hear a squeaky, God awful sound to my right. He and I look to see his friend Rebecca walk up with a beaming smile.

  “Hey, Rach.” He smiles with his mouth closed.

  Ughhhhh.

  Then her eyes s
lide to mine, and she jumps. “Oh, hey, Red.” She waves and continues smiling like she didn’t see me until just now.

  “Rochelle.” I mimic her annoying and obviously fake smile.

  Her smile dims. “It’s Rachel.”

  “Is it? Sorry, I forgot to care.”

  “Red…” Noah whispers.

  I roll my eyes.

  “Just wanted to stop by and say I’ll be up there rooting for you,” she says.

  “This isn’t a real game,” I mutter under my breath.

  “Doesn’t mean I can’t cheer on my friend,” she replies.

  “Red…” Noah warns. I gape at him shortly before looking to the sky. Was he blind or deaf or fucking both? The bitch just slapped me in the face with her friends, especially with that creepy smile of hers.

  “Anyway, now that I’ve got you both here, I wanna ask you both out to a party I’m having after the game tonight,” he says, grinning.

  “I’d love to come, Noah!” Rain or whatever her name is exclaims.

  He looks to me. “Red?” A smile tugs at his lips, and one tickles my own.

  “I’ll be th—” I begin to say.

  “Are you sure you can go, though?” She’s frowning like she cares, but I know she doesn’t.

  “Are you my fucking secretary?” I snap, and her brown eyes widen, if they can even do that. She looks like a freaking rejected American Girls doll. I look back to Noah, and noticing his clear dislike over me being snappy to his friend, I huff out a quick apology before smiling at him and saying, “I’d love to come, Noah. Text me the details and I’m there.”

  His discomfort fades, and an adorable grin replaces his concern. “Awesome!”

  “Wells! Leave your girlfriends alone and get back here!” his coach yells.

  Prick. Leave my Noah alone.

 

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