Asking Alex to wait until tonight for details would prove torturous. Her lips squiggled several times as she contemplated my proposal. "No ditching."
The late bell would ring any moment so I broke into a half jog toward my class and yelled over my shoulder. "I swear. Seven, K?"
"Pepperoni and mushrooms," Alex hollered back.
Yuck. She did that on purpose. I hated mushrooms, but sighed with relief that she didn't demand anchovies as her revenge topping."
Dad sounded crazed when I relayed the news his "baby" wouldn't start. Sometimes I wondered if given a choice between his old car and me, who'd win out. After yesterday, the car—hands down.
The wrecker driver anchored the Volkswagen, shaking his head at the river of dark liquid streaming from beneath the car. When he pulled away with my father's pride and joy, I faced an empty parking space…and Sam.
His rock hard body slumped with a hint of insecurity. One hand hid in a front pocket and he scrubbed the back of his neck with the other, his foot nervously scraping the pavement.
"Need a ride?" Most everyone had left so it was either him or a shuttle. Definitely not my first choice. "Face it, babe, we're going to have to talk about yesterday sooner or later."
I stopped at the open door of his jeep. "I'm not your 'babe.'"
"Whatever."
Sam parked in front of my house, angling to face me. I undid my seatbelt and mirrored his body posture. Offense versus Defense. He drew a long breath.
"I'm sorry, okay? Maybe I was an ass and deserved the slap. Probably the punch, too."
"Maybe? Am I the only one who remembers where your hands were?"
"Shit, cut me some slack, Marli. I said I'm sorry. I know what I did was wrong."
This was heading for a disaster. I checked my anger. "How's your stomach?"
"Hurts. But not as bad as my heart."
"Sam, don't start. You've known from day one I'd end up with a candidate. Thinking anything else was a fantasy." I reached for the handle, but he caught my hand.
"Wait. You're right. I pretended The Program didn't exist. I wanted to believe you'd never leave me, or at least nothing would happen until after summer. I wasn't prepared to walk in and find the future kissing you, and I lost it."
"Fighting wasn't smart. Both of you and Jordan are built like brick walls. Someone could have gotten hurt."
Sam's eyes twinkled. "Brick wall, huh?" He flexed his arm and I laughed. The touch of his finger along the side of my face created a familiar tingle. "I love you. Always will. No government program can change that."
He leaned close and I knew he wanted to kiss. Common sense said "no," but it sounded like a foreign language in my head when his lips pressed. But when he leaned in again, I held him back.
"Sam, I can't do this."
He slumped back in his seat. "What about Prom? You said you'd go with me. Pretty sure it will be our last time together."
The sentence slid slowly like a dollop of honey off the lip of the dripper, pulling a golden thread to soften the landing. Upstairs on my closet door hung a midnight blue satin formal I'd spent an entire paycheck on. The dress looked amazing on me, but after what happened I wasn't sure Sam deserved to see me wearing it.
"If I go, I don't want a repeat of yesterday. Promise?"
He pulled me into a surprise hug, his lips sealing the deal on my mouth. "You got it."
Crap. I was going to Prom with Sam in a strapless gown that guaranteed my father a heart attack. If the gossip train reached him before the dance, Prom could be pre-empted by my funeral. I'd most likely be buried in the dress.
I stood on Alex's porch with a hot pizza container slowly blistering my fingers. What sounded like a herd of elephants thundered down the stairs to answer the door, the giggles and shushes hissed making me suspicious. Alex finally cracked the door and stomped her foot.
"Dang! You brought the pizza. I hoped that cute new boy who works behind the counter could have delivered it."
I pushed past her and into the spacious entryway. "What? You're on the outs with David again?" Brittany grabbed the pizza and started up the stairs.
Alex leaned on my shoulder. "Not me. Brit. She needs a date for Prom because Jason asked someone else."
Brittany's reply followed her into Alex's bedroom. "I don't need a date, Alexandra Nichols. I'm perfectly fine staying home."
Jason Curtis was Brittany's "Sam." They'd dated steady over the past six months, but apparently things had ended. Selfishly, I welcomed another topic to discuss besides me.
I placed a slice of cheesy pizza on a plate and proceeded to pick off the mushrooms. Brit sat quietly in a chair across the room, her gaze drifting over the bookcase to her side holding Alex's impressive collection of romance novels. I wandered over to her, precariously holding my plate of tomato based food as I crossed the carpet. Once I'd reached her, I sat my plate next to hers on the nightstand and pulled a book off the shelf feigning interest.
"Are you okay?" I asked, flipping the book over to read the back cover.
Alex emerged from her bathroom. "Not like she's got a lot of choices. She's a pinkie-slave like you." Alex flipped her head at me while looking at Brittany. "Did you tell her yet?"
"Tell me what?"
"I received a red envelope yesterday. I haven't opened it. Mom said I have to wait until Dad returns from his business trip, but insisted I stop dating Jason immediately."
The doughy cheese chunk in my mouth barely slid down my throat with my heavy swallow. "You've been eighteen for like what…a minute?" Only a week had passed since we celebrated Brittany's birthday. It felt like the government constantly watched us. "Are you going to open it?" The question hung in the air between us far too long awaiting an answer.
"I haven't decided. My parents—"
Alex's cell receptor buzzed merrily on the other nightstand, interrupting our conversation. A smile holding way too much knowledge spread over her lips. "Relax. I told you it would be okay." She sank deep into the pillows on her bed, nibbling a finger around a seductive giggle.
Brittany and I shared a wide-eyed glance and I mouthed she thought she was pregnant again? Brit bit into her pizza and bobbed her head slightly. I held up two fingers for the times I knew of that Alex thought she was pregnant. Brit held up three and mimed Spring Break.
No way could I live life so recklessly. We'd both scolded Alex about not using protection, especially considering prophylactics were practically handed out on street corners. But if we pushed the subject, she'd ultimately get angry and remind us her sex life was none of our business. Too bad she couldn't practice that same sentiment when it came to Brittany's and my relationships.
"Alex!" Brittany snapped loudly. "Tell David goodbye. We're not listening to you make disgusting sounds while you two have cyber sex."
I dropped the book.
"Gotta go, babe. The priestesses are here." Her sudden gravelly voice made me wish for a place to hide. "Don't you wish, but if that's the fantasy…sweet dreams." She shut the phone off. "David wants to know if you guys would be into 'group therapy.'"
"Disgusting on so many levels, Nichols," Brittany replied for both of us.
Alex laughed. "Speaking of group activities, what the hell happened yesterday, Davis? Word is your 'boy toys' got into a fight and the new kid on the block won."
"Crap. Does everyone know?" They both shook their heads. "For the record, it was Sam who started the whole thing. And he threw the first punch."
"Why were they fighting?" Brittany asked, handing me the book off the floor. "Did he catch you making-out in Jordan's car like you were in front of the school? My mom about had a come apart when she heard." My eyebrows lifted sharply. "What? You're shocked? Your candidate drives a Porsche, Marli. In this town, that's worth a ton a gossip on its own, not to mention the local veterinarian's daughter is locking lips with the driver in public."
My skin prickled with heat and I rubbed my arm to ease the sudden itch. A bead of sweat dribbled between my breasts.
&
nbsp; "Sam caught Jordan kissing me in the kitchen when he stopped by to pick me up for school."
"Awesome!" Alex chortled. "How was it—Jordan's kiss, I mean. Mouth open or closed? Lips firm or mashed flat?" She fell back onto bed. "God, I'm jealous! I'll bet he tastes so sweet."
"Oh my gosh, Alex. Stop already." I pressed my finger to my left brow to end the twitching. "The kiss was good, okay?" They both stared at me. "All right…epic. Amazing. Beyond sexy!" I couldn't fight the smile creeping over my mouth. "And yes, Jordan tastes pretty sweet."
Alex did some fist-punch-kicking fest on top of her bed to match her squeals. Brittany dropped her head back to her shoulders and chewed me out for encouraging her.
"So that's what started the fight?" Alex finally breathed.
"Not exactly. Sam did something first…and I slapped him."
Their collective gasp could have pulled heavy furniture across a room. Both sets of eyes fixed on me. I couldn't hide the truth. An enhanced version would only be created to fill in the blanks.
"Fine, I'll tell you, but you have to swear this stays between us. If Rick finds out, he'll kill Sam."
I unraveled the story, cautiously revealing the part where Sam's anxious hands spun everything out of control. Again, I threatened a slow and painful death if the information leaked outside our threesome. Of course, I had no control over Sam's bragging rights.
7
DEVIL'S ADVOCATE
A gentle stroke down the side of my face released tiny shivers in its wake. Lips brushed along my jaw and I fought against waking from the dream warming my body.
"Jordan," I whispered.
A firm kiss covered my murmur, but felt wrong—in a good way. The mouth fit perfectly over mine, but tasted different—the pressure more aggressive and the tongue, demanding. And yet, my body didn't question the source creating a hot tingle of excitement. Quite the opposite. I arched against a deeper kiss and arms circled my waist. The heart beating against my cheek thumped fast, the scent on the neck inviting.
The scent. The lips. The taste. Everything connected at once.
"Jesse!"
His hand clamped my mouth. "Shush! Do you want to get me shot?"
Rick did own a gun, but I was certain a bullet had never rested in the chamber, let alone burned through the barrel. However, I didn't think he'd hesitate testing his aim in this case.
I shoved Jesse hard when he leaned in for another kiss, causing him to lose his balance and topple off the side of the bed, dragging the quilt with him. I scrambled off the other side, reaching for my robe. The faint beep of Rick's alarm added panic to my anger.
"What the hell are you doing? How did you get in here, anyway?"
His grin disarmed me and my breath vanished. His head tipped toward the window. "You really should keep your window locked. You never know who might pop in."
When Jesse visually evaluated of my bare legs, inch-by-inch, I felt naked under his stare and gathered the robe tighter. The bikini on the yacht was out of my control, but Jesse stood on my turf—uninvited. If Jordan knew…
I pointed to the window. "Get out."
He kneeled on the window seat, evaluating his escape. "Are you nuts? If I fall, I'll be speared by that damn weather vane."
Cautiously, I moved closer. "I don't care. You can't be here—in my room. It's wrong and you know it."
"Whoa, you don't care if I'm gored to death? I have to say, I liked you better when you were sleeping—much more receptive. In fact, any more welcoming and we'd be doing a lot more than kissing."
Jesse quickly tugged the belt on my robe free, exposing my cotton boxers and skintight top. His gaze leisurely scrolled over me in appreciation, his unapologetic smirk making my cheeks burn.
Shocked by his brazenness, I bunched the fabric together, tied a double-knot, and glared angrily. "Dammit Jesse, put your eyes back in your head. And I'm serious, I want you to leave."
"Don't you want to know why I'm here?"
With every fiber of my being, but I knew Rick would check on me in less than five minutes and Jesse needed to disappear to save both our lives. Actually—one minute. The bedroom door across the hall squealed on its hinge.
"Why doesn't matter right now. Hide! My dad will kill you if he finds you in my bedroom."
Jesse barely made it under the bed, pulling his shoes beneath the eyelet bed ruffle just as the door cracked opened. Rick looked puzzled to see me standing by the bed instead of nestled under the covers—not as surprised as he'd be if he knew why.
"You're awake awfully early."
"I couldn't sleep. I'm thinking we should chop down that oak tree. Things keep waking me too early."
"Things?"
"Birds. I mean birds."
Dad walked over to my window, pulled it shut and locked the latch. "It might help if you kept the window closed. Your mother always wanted the window open while she slept, too."
"I'm nothing like Mom," I muttered, chancing a glance to make sure none of Jesse's limbs showed. Rick's eyes followed to where I let my mine linger a bit too long. I shifted the quilt slightly for insurance, causing a curious expression to cover his face.
"You have her good traits." He settled on the side of the bed, yanking the quilt up, watching my reaction. I didn't flinch. "Mars, we need to talk. Karen told me what really happened with Sam, not your edited version."
Karen? Dad's nurse? How would she know anything? The light bulb in my brain flicked on. David—her son and Alex's boyfriend, depending on the day.
"What exactly did she tell you?"
"Enough to know I want to break Sam's neck. I also didn't know about your public display of affection with Mr. Mason in front of the school." Dad rubbed his furrowed brow. "Daughter, I swear you're going to be the death of me, but I hate to think of what might have happened if Jordan hadn't been there."
Karen apparently didn't miss any details. Alex would definitely hear from me. I also swore I heard a growl from under my bed.
Dad looked at his watch. "We'll talk later. I know your dance is tonight, but you better meet Sam there. I don't want him around here anymore." He paused in the doorway, "Mars, I hate to ask, but could you put Muffy out for me? I'm running late. I bought a stronger cable leash."
"Daaadd."
He ruffled my tangled nest of hair. "Thanks, Pumpkin—I'll owe you."
As soon as the front door shut, I dropped to my knees. "Okay, it's safe to come out."
Jesse dragged himself from under the bed. "I'm not so sure. What are you planning to do with me?"
I sat cross-legged on my bed, pondering the same question. Part of me felt unexpected excitement with Jesse being here, but another part of me—the one controlled by a shred of common sense, feared the consequences.
I had no idea what The Program would do about the situation and Rick would ground me for the rest of my life. But Jordan? His twin brother climbing in the window of his assigned candidate's bedroom—kissing her, well technically that already happened, but I was dressed and not lying on a bed—how would he react? We shared something, although I couldn't say exactly what the connection was, but it felt powerful enough to know he'd freak if he found out.
Jesse brushed lint off his shoulders and stretched an arm across me. "All right, who's Sam?"
"My soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend. His hands got a little carried away, but nothing to create an international incident over." Jesse hmfed a disapproving grunt. I picked a couple of stray dusty clumps from his hair. "Looks like I need to work on my housekeeping skills. If Jordan chooses me, maybe he'll invest in a maid?"
Jesse didn't smile back. "I don't want to think about you with Jordan." He glanced around my room, a teasing grin returning to his face. "I kind of like your domestic talents. It makes finding something to wear much easier when your entire wardrobe is spread across the floor." He caught my fist in midair, thwarting a playful punch. "Do you want to wrestle me? I warn you, I don't play fair." He kissed my neck below my ear, whispering, "And I will win."
/> "I don't doubt it." My hand on his chest stopped him from moving closer. "So? Why are you here?"
"Kiss me and I'll tell you."
"Stop playing games. This is serious, Jesse. If you don't want to chance falling to your death from that old tree, you better start explaining."
The bed groaned loudly when he dropped backward. "I had to see you, Mars. I can't stop thinking about you."
"Jess, you can't see me. It's against the rules."
He rested on his elbow. "You already know my thoughts about rules."
"What about Jordan? The kiss on the yacht is one thing, but you showing up here? You know it's wrong."
Jesse slid his fingers down mine from the hand dangling off my knee. "Then why does it feel so right?"
He pushed me against the headboard and when his mouth came close, I didn't block the kiss—I couldn't. His body stretched between my bent knees, his arms snaking around my waist. I knew I should stop him—stop myself, but the reckless moment filled a void left since Daniel's death. The need to please everyone, be the good daughter—the strong friend—the ideal candidate—the 'perfect everything,' disappeared. I was simply a teenage girl who desperately wanted to feel something besides sorrow, anger, and unbearable frustration knowing I could possibly fail.
Right now, I wanted to break the rules and lose myself in Jesse, but my dutiful conscience played dirty. She threw the memory of Jordan's eyes staring intensely into mine seconds before he placed that first sweet, tentative kiss on my lips. The kiss of a promise to care for me as a person, not just his genetic link. His second kiss I granted permission to, tasted of a future filled with hope and possibly the forever I'd dreamed about as a child.
I abruptly broke the heated connection between our mouths. "No more, Jess. I need to keep my head straight."
"Why?" he asked with a shallow breath.
"Because of Jordan. I don't want to mess things up. You understand, don't you?"
Jesse moved back, his brows scrunched. "Not really, but if I'm coming on too strong, I'll back off."
I struck a dramatic pose, finger pressed to my chin. "Let’s see. Crawling through a bedroom window uninvited—trying to undress and seduce your brother's girlfriend—and you still need to ask? What do you think, Jesse?"
Designer Genes - The Boyfriend Cut Page 8