“Was Brett Pederson over here today?”
I now understood how criminals felt when they were trapped in an interrogation room. That all too familiar wave of nausea enveloped me again, and I fought to keep from squirming under her direct stare. It had little to do with her actual question and more to do with Brett’s visit. What was his motive? He definitely needed help with his writing, judging by his attempt at an essay, but the fact my sister knew he was here made me wonder if he was setting me up. “What makes you think that?”
“Just something I’d heard.” Her tone was flippant, but her stare doubled in intensity. Taylor may have pretended to be an airhead, but I knew she was smarter than she acted. She was my sister, after all.
But I was smarter than her, and if I kept deflecting the question, maybe she’d give up before I had to answer. “Why would Brett want anything to do with me?”
“Why indeed? I mean, after all, you’re so not in his league.”
“Thank you, little sis.”
“Your horrible fashion sense and complete lack of care for your personal appearance aside—”
“Careful there. You’re giving me a case of the warm fuzzies.”
She rolled her eyes and gave me a sharp huff of disgust. “Just telling it like it is. I mean, why should he be interested in you when he can have someone like Summer?”
The exact thing I’d been asking myself for the last few days. But I hid my doubts under my hard and cruel façade and pretended not to care as much as I really did. “Then they deserve each other.”
Taylor shifted her weight to the other foot and cocked her head. “But I know there’s something going on between you two.”
I looked back at my book so she wouldn’t pick up on my lies. “Yeah, we worked on a school project together. It’s over.”
“Then why are you suddenly interested in going to football games?”
“Richard needed a ride.”
“And the carwash on Saturday?”
“You’ll have to ask Brett about that.”
Taylor snatched the book out of my hand and held it out of my reach. “You may think I’m an idiot, but I know you, and I can tell when you’re hiding something.”
“And I can tell when Summer’s sent her little minion to gather information for her.”
Taylor recoiled and blinked several times. At first, I interpreted it as confirmation that I’d discovered the true motivation behind this conversation, but her reply hit me like a sucker punch.
“I’m your sister. Forgive me for wanting to know what’s going on with your life.” She tossed the book back on my bed and stormed off.
Even though my head was telling me it was all a game of manipulation, I couldn’t shake off the regret that gnawed at the fringes of my mind. Brett was so close to his sisters, and there was a time when Taylor and I had been the same way. Of course, all that changed when she decided to become a cheerleader and swap me out for Summer as the person she looked up to. Summer’s betrayal in sixth grade had hurt. Losing my little sister to her last year had hurt even more.
I rolled out of bed and crossed the hall to Taylor’s room. A pile of clothes kept me from opening the door all the way, and loud music blared from her laptop. Instead of studying, Taylor was flipping through a magazine with celebrities on the cover. She didn’t even look up until I turned down the music and cleared my throat.
“Ever hear of knocking?” she asked.
“You didn’t bother.” I tiptoed around the clutter and chaos of her room, my skin crawling from the thought of what might be lurking under the surface, and cleared off a spot on her bed big enough to sit on. “I’m sorry if you think I’m pushing you away.”
“What else is new?” She set the magazine aside. “But seriously, what is going on with you and Brett?”
“I have no idea. He dragged me out of the house kicking and screaming on Saturday for the carwash. Said I needed to show a little more school spirit.”
“So, in other words, he’s mental.”
Just what most of the student body would think of us as a couple. “Maybe.”
“Thank God Summer’s a forgiving person.”
I couldn’t suppress the snort of sarcastic laughter there. “Summer? Forgiving? Please.”
“She can be, for the right people. And I know she’s willing to forgive him for his moment of temporary insanity or whatever it was on Saturday.” Her gaze flicked over me. “But other than that…”
I couldn’t care less what Summer thought, but for some reason, I couldn’t dismiss my own confused feelings about him. He’d catch less flack if people thought he was using me for my brain than if people suspected we were friends who teetered on the edge of something more. “I’m just helping him with his college admission essay.”
She narrowed her eyes as though she didn’t believe me and picked up her magazine. “If you say so.”
I fled before I dug myself in even deeper. Summer suspected something was going on between Brett and me, and Taylor was all too happy to blab any tidbit of information I’d let slip to her. The motive for her earlier disappointment was more due to her inability to get answers from me rather than actual sisterly concern.
At least I knew I was being watched, which made me even more cautious.
***
After my conversation with Taylor, I can’t say I was surprised to find Summer leaning against the hood of my white Prius at lunch the next day. I only needed a few more credits to graduate, so I always left campus after fourth period. Summer knew that and was waiting to ambush me.
We’d known each other since kindergarten. Summer had just moved to our Seattle suburb from Hong Kong. I’d reached out to her, and we’d quickly become best friends. When we got to sixth grade, though, all that changed. Summer had just come back from visiting family in Hong Kong and returned with a newfound arrogance that left me wondering if she’d undergone a personality transplant. She set out to prove she was better than me, and she did it by publicly exposing all my secrets in the cafeteria.
She’d always been a striking girl. Her mom was a real estate heiress from Hong Kong, and Summer had inherited her petite frame and glossy dark hair. But she’d also inherited her father’s ruthless business attitude—a belief that the only place to be was at the top of the totem pole and it didn’t matter who she needed to crush to get there. It was that mixture of delicate and cruel that made most people take notice of her and give her wide berth.
I wasn’t like most people. I stopped a few feet away and said, “Is there a reason you’re defiling my car?”
“Oh, please.” The condescending tone in her voice matched the expression on her face as she stood. “I don’t have much time to waste on someone like you, so I’ll make this as short and sweet as possible. You don’t have a chance with Brett.”
“Who said I wanted one?” I unlocked my car with my remote, but she intercepted my path to the driver’s side door.
“I don’t know what you’re doing, inviting him over to your house after class, but it’s not going to work.”
“What makes you think he’s hanging out at my house?” I tried to hide my fear behind sarcasm. Did Brett tell her he was coming over? And if he did, did he give her a reason why? Did she know about the locker room and the conversation behind the scoreboard last week?
“I watched him walk there from his house yesterday.”
“Gee, stalker much? Talk about having a case of Fatal Attraction.” I reached for the door handle, but she covered it with her size two ass.
“I deserve to know why he blew me off yesterday.”
“No, you don’t. And maybe you should take a hint and stop obsessing over him.”
“It’s not an obsession, Alexis. It’s just the natural order of things.” She lifted her head and jutted out her surgically enhanced chest like a gorilla trying to assert its dominance. “Brett belongs with someone like me.”
Like hell I was going to let her think she could intimidate me. “Then t
ell me why you felt the need to grace me with your presence long enough to tell me that? Could it be that you feel threatened by the fact he seems to prefer the company of a woman of substance over a woman of silicone parts?”
Her lips twisted into a feral snarl, and I fully expected her to come at me with her claws, but she managed to restrain herself. “Listen, I don’t know what lies Brett is telling you or what delusions are going through your head, but we’re an item, and in four weeks when I’m named Homecoming Queen, he’s going to be my king while you’ll be sitting home alone.”
She was probably right since I wouldn’t be caught dead at a school dance, but her threat also revealed her insecurities. I jumped on them, delighted to turn the tables on her. “Are you certain of that?”
“I always get what I want.” She pushed off the car, her nose tilted up in arrogance. “I thought you would know that by now.”
My blood churned through my veins for a number of reasons. Yes, I wanted Brett, even though I knew it was due to stupid hormones. But I also wanted to put Summer in her place. Maybe together, it was enough for me to agree to go out with him. “Perhaps it’s time you got used to disappointment.”
“Watch and learn.”
As she walked away, I wondered how we’d ever been best friends.
It also made me wonder if I’d made a similar mistake with Brett.
Chapter Seven
I forced myself to appear cool and confident as the bouncer studied my ID. I needed him to believe I was nineteen, not seventeen. True, a couple of years shouldn’t make a big deal, but when I had to be eighteen or older to get inside the club, I needed to convince the mass of muscle standing guard at the door that I was older than I really was. Besides, it wasn’t like I was pretending to be twenty-one in order to drink. I just wanted to see one of my favorite artists perform live.
The bouncer finally handed the fake ID back to me and told me to hold out my arm. A second later, he strapped a bright yellow bracelet proclaiming that I was under twenty-one around my wrist, and I was allowed inside.
Final hurdle cleared.
A strange sort of giddiness filled me as I entered the dimly lit club. I’d been a fan of this artist for years, so when I got the email about the unplugged show he was going to do at a small venue in SoDo, I bought a ticket without even thinking about age restrictions. I just knew I had to see him. Thankfully, Morgan hooked me up with the same person who’d created her fake ID, although he teased me about not wanting to go older.
I didn’t need to have a fake ID to drink. My mom’s liquor cabinet was always unlocked. But I needed one to get into a club.
I made my way to the bar to get a bottle of water before the show started. The room was packed, and heat radiated from a few hundred bodies pressed into the room. I shed the button-up shirt I’d worn over a thin-strapped tank top. After what felt like forever, I got my water and turned around, only to run into someone behind me.
The first thing I recognized was the familiar scent that always made my mind goofy when I inhaled it.
The second was a slightly surprised voice saying my name.
I looked up into Brett’s face.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, a slew of warning bells blaring in the back of my mind. If Summer was stalking him, was he doing the same thing to me?
“I could ask you the same thing,” he replied with genuine puzzlement.
“I’m here to be stampeded by a dozen people in desperate need of beer.”
He chuckled. “Just give me a minute.”
I was tempted to walk away before the awkwardness seeped in, but he laced his fingers through mine and held me prisoner while he ordered a bottle of water. I didn’t know if he was eighteen yet, but if he wasn’t and had a fake ID, he could’ve easily gotten a beer. It’s what most of his friends would’ve done. Once he got the water, he continued to hold my hand and pulled me though the crowd to the main dance floor.
Tonight, though, no one was dancing. They were all milling around, waiting for the moment when the singer we’d all come there to see would take the floor. But the loud din of conversation along with the sheer number of people forced me to stand close to Brett in order to hear what he was saying.
“I never expected to see you here,” he said, making no effort to release my hand.
Not that I put up much of a fight. “You, neither.”
“Why’s that?”
“You don’t seem like the folksy, surfer-with-a-guitar kind of guy.”
A grin lit up his face. “I used to live in Hawaii. And before that, southern California.”
Another interesting facet to the complex mystery that was Brett Pederson.
“I’ve even met Jack in person,” he added, which sparked a flame of envy in me.
“You have?”
He nodded. “But that still doesn’t explain you.”
“What about me?”
“Why would a brainy, uncompromising, hard as nails girl like you be a fan of laid-back music like this?”
“My dad.” That was all I needed to say as far as I was concerned, but Brett wasn’t satisfied.
“Explain.”
“I don’t have to tell you anything.” I tried to walk away, but he’d managed to weave a vise around my fingers with his, and he refused to let me go.
One of these days, I’d learn not to open the door to these things around him, but for now, I indulged him with a heavy sigh. “My dad’s a philosophy professor who’s basically a hippie, and when I spent summers with him growing up, he’d take me to concerts like this.”
He pressed his lips together as though I was the mysterious and complicated one. “Is your dad here?”
“Nope, he’s in Vermont.”
“How did a hippie end up married to a beauty queen?”
“She’s also a doctor,” I reminded him. My parents were about as polar opposites as two people could be. “My dad wanted to make sure I had balance in my life. I’m like my mom in that I’m driven, so my dad had to teach me how to chill out, and this is the kind of music I listen to when I need to do that.”
“I’d always pictured you as the heavy-metal, emo-screamo type.”
“Screw you.” I tried to walk away again, but he still held on. “Is there a reason why you’re refusing to let go?”
“Yeah.”
When he didn’t elaborate, my frustration inched closer to fury. “Then what is it?”
“I just wanted to hang with you.”
“Didn’t you bring any of your posse with you?”
He shook his head. “Did you?”
I snorted with laughter. “Morgan breaks out in hives when it comes to music like this, and Richard won’t go near anything that doesn’t have a techno beat.”
“Good.” He shifted his grip as he wrapped his arm around my back, pinning my arm in the process and forcing me closer to him. “Then it’s just the two of us. No need to worry about what our friends would say. No need to put on any acts for the public.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but none of my arguments came out. Not that it mattered since he’d pretty much struck them down before I could make them.
“What do you say to enjoying this concert together?”
My body was smashed against his, toes to chest, and only a few inches separated our faces. The last time we’d been this close, he’d reminded me that friends don’t kiss. It was a lesson I wouldn’t forget. “Are you trying to turn this into some sort of date?”
“If you want to call it that.” He leaned forward until his forehead touched mine. “Or we can just be two friends who are enjoying a concert together.”
Every time he reminded me that we were just friends, it grated on an already raw part of my soul. Now I understood why guys hated the “let’s be friends” line so much. The thoughts that were racing through my mind at the moment were anything but friendly. I was torn between dragging him to a corner to make out versus shoving him away and doing my best to avoid his company all ni
ght.
“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” I asked.
He grinned. “You could always change your mind.”
Before I could say I couldn’t, the lights went out in the club, and a lone spotlight zoomed in on the center of the stage. The crowd hushed as the strumming of a single acoustic guitar came from the speakers. I turned around as the singer we’d all been waiting for stepped out onto the stage and launched into one of his best-known songs.
I closed my eyes and let my mind drift to my happy place. I’d only been to Hawaii once, but the song transported me back to that beach on Maui where I’d relaxed in the sun. Only now, the warmth penetrating my skin came from the guy standing behind me, his hand on my hip as our bodies swayed in time with the music. I may not have been on the beach, but the sensations were still the same. I felt calm, at peace, happy.
And I knew it had as much to do with the company as it did the music.
We’d finished off our water about halfway through the concert, and once Brett had his other hand free, he circled my waist with both hands and locked me in his embrace. One hand worked its way under my tank top, and the heat from his palm against my bare stomach stirred up a whole new level of awareness inside me. I should be pushing him away, not wanting him to keep going higher—up to my bra, my breasts. But he kept it there for reasons I couldn’t comprehend. It was almost a possessive hold rather than an attempt to feel me up, which only added to my confusion.
My thoughts drifted from the music to my unexpected company, and I started to overanalyze the situation. Brett and I had more in common than I’d first realized. He also had no problem showing the people there that I was with him. But what would happen if he did the same when we were at school? Would Summer extract revenge? And if so, how would it compare to what she’d already done? Would she drag Brett down with me?
And as much as I fought to resist him, I was falling even harder for Brett. My head was still screaming Danger! but the rest of me was too far under his spell to care. Brett was like sweet wine or chocolate. Too much could be a bad thing, but a little indulgence here and there was near heaven. And tonight, I could allow myself this brief indulgence.
The Queen B* Strikes Back Page 6