Red: Burning Desire (Spectrum Series Book 7)

by Allison White

  “I get it. She just up and left you. And now you’re hurting,” she says. “But, Noah, you should really just put her out of your mind.” Her hand reaches up to touch my cheek in a comforting gesture, and I smile and lean down to accommodate her sweet action when my skin tingles and my breathing stops for a dying second. I pull back and watch her face scrunch up slightly, panic flashing across her brown eyes. “Noah? Are you okay?” She reaches for me, but I take a step back.

  “I’m sorry, it’s just…” I trail off, my attention pulled elsewhere. I feel like something or someone is watching me. I look around, but no one catches my eye. Then I look past Rachel, tuning out her worried words, and squint through the crackling flames. They burn brighter as I step toward them, craning my neck around it, then really looking through it. I’m about to step away and apologize for being so weird and paranoid, when the flames dim for a few seconds. It’s enough time to find what my body discovered before my brain could catch up.

  Red…and Tanner has an arm around her.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Three things hit me square in the chest at the sight of them. One being relief. She isn’t in a ditch somewhere like I had hoped wasn’t the case. I can now breathe and call off the idea of calling the police and reporting her missing or worse. I don’t have to worry that she’s going through some horrible breakdown, whatever the cause may be, and release the breath I’ve been holding desperately for an entire week.

  The next thing is confusion. A million—nay, a trillion—questions form and swirl inside of my head like parasites digging into my spine; it’s so hard to stand upright. Among the questions, one stands out in this very moment: why the hell is she with him?

  I latch onto the last one in particular: anger. How could she just leave like that and reappear with this asshat after what we’ve been through, after what we’ve done? And then relief swells in my throat as I swallow the rage and emphasize how she is alive and well. Alive and sort of an asshole, but alive nonetheless. But then the anger pops back up.

  “Noah?” Rachel touches my arm. “Are you okay? What are you staring at?”

  I don’t answer. I just stare at them. She gasps, and I’m guessing she sees them as well. Well, there goes my theory that I’ve completely lost my mind and am seeing things. Seeing her. God. I have turned into such a pussy, and all because of her. She made me think that maybe I could have something serious with a girl. She made me feel like I could be myself around her. She just…she fucking played me.

  And I’m pissed.

  “Don’t waste anymore of your time on her,” Rachel says. “Look, I see Beth over there. God knows she isn’t a saint…but she’s gotta be better than her. Or literally anyone else—” She begins to laugh almost nervously, but she’s just sympathetic for me. Maybe even pities me. And I hate that she may feel that way about me. She’s been by my side while Red was off doing God knows what with God knows who, so it pains me to think she feels sorry for me, that I’m such a pussy-whipped frat boy who got his heart sucked out by a damn succubus.

  But I am more. I am so much more.

  And I’m really, really pissed.

  “I’ve just gotta talk to her,” I tell her, never once looking away from her and him. I watch as they look around, chins raised, as if they’re the shit. And then I see more people behind them, drenched in black and tattoos, and I feel sick to my stomach. She’s torturing me or mocking me, or both. She knows I’m on the team, knew I’d be here, so she brings a posse along with her boy toy to watch me realize what an idiot I’d been for trusting her, trusting us?

  Real dick move, Red.

  I move to give her a piece of my mind, but Rachel’s small fingers grab my wrist and yank me back. Her eyes are wider than ever with fear and her puffy lips are parted, moving slightly, searching for words. “Don’t let her get to you like this. You’d only be proving her right.”

  “I only want to talk to her, that’s it. I’ll be back,” I promise her, but she doesn’t look convinced. I reach down and rub her shoulder comfortingly. “Promise, Rach. If I’m not back in a few seconds, you can call the SWAT team after me, okay?” I joke half-heartedly, mostly for my sake. To cool myself so I don’t blow up like a lit fuse the second I reach her and her boyfriend.

  “Noah,” she croaks.

  “Rachel,” I say, then sigh. “Be back,” I promise her again and begin my trek over to the crowd. I feel her eyes zoned on my back as I approach them. My heart pounds inside of my throat. I decide to speak from the heart and let her know whatever she’s done on her little trip fucked with me more than she could ever truly understand. And then I’m going to scream and question her coming with him and her friends like this.

  I’m not even a foot away before Tanner notices me. A nasty smirk takes up residence on his face, and he taps her arm, getting her attention. “Look what we have here—”

  I hold up a hand, eyes zeroed in on Red. “Fuck off, leather pants.” I make fun of his appearance and Red’s friends or his friends—I don’t give a crap—make hissing sounds and chuckle.

  “You better watch your fucking mouth, preppy!” he growls. Literally.

  “Or what? Are you gonna write a super emo song about me dissing your horrendously tight pants?” I mock.

  His friends are hunched over in laughter, and he glares at me. A promise flickers across his dark eyes, but he bites his tongue, which I’m sure has a tongue piercing. I smirk at him, angering him even more.

  She still hasn’t even glanced at me, finding the guy at the cotton candy stand much more interesting than me, boiling with simmered rage. Seriously? She isn’t even going to look at me after what she’s done. She’s left me worried sick for days, after just taking off into the night like she’d been informed the FBI was looking for her, and she won’t even have the common courtesy of looking at me? I become even more pissed than before, if that’s even possible.

  “Red?” I call out. “Aren’t you even going to say hi?”

  Nothing.

  “Tell me where you’ve been? Or what made you leave so suddenly?” I ask, ducking my head and trying to break her focal view, but it’s glued to the depressed expression stamped on cotton candy guy. “Can’t you at least explain why you’re here with this prick?”

  “Who the hell do you think you’re talking to—” Tanner spits.

  “Red!” I shout at the top of my lungs. I just lost my temper, and I have no patience left. It’s gone thin, and this prick isn’t helping much.

  Her tongue plays with her lip ring, but besides that, she’s quiet.

  “Red! Answer me!” I scream again.

  “I don’t have to!” she finally shouts and looks at me. Her face is flushed, eyebrows crunched, and upper lip snarling upward. “I don’t have to because we aren’t fucking anything! I’m not your girlfriend, you’re not my boyfriend. And—fuck. I left because I had shit to do. Just because you had your face between my thighs and we kissed a few times doesn’t mean I owe you an explanation for every little thing that I do! Jesus. Fucking. Christ! We don’t mean anything!” she snaps. She’s panting for breath and tearing up at the end.

  Every single word that left her now-trembling lips pierces through my heart, leaving gaping holes and causes me to pant for air too. I’m tearing up as well, but I bite my tongue and nod. I seriously thought we had something, but if she says we’re nothing…then that settles it. I mean nothing to her, and she means nothing to me. The kisses, the glances, the laughter, the motel, my room…nothing mattered to either of us, and I should just let her go. Let her be with Tanner or Ian or both. Hell, she can fuck everyone here and I shouldn’t give a shit because she doesn’t give a shit about me.

  “Okay,” I say and, even though I want to appear tough, my voice wavers slightly. Just for a second. I almost don’t hear it, but I do and hate it and myself because she just crucified me in one freaking blow of air. Her friends are whispering and her face is hardening like a crystal, and Tanner’s a smirking asshole, and my hear
t is crushed in the grass.

  “Okay,” I repeat. “Then how about you don’t come to me, and I don’t come to you, and we stay the fuck away from each other. Yeah? How does that sound?” I pause again and watch as she gulps thickly. “Nice knowing you, Red.”

  She looks like she’s about to say something, maybe take everything back and let us kiss and make up, but when I give her just a fraction of a second to do just that, she steps back and turns to Tanner. He grins down at her, and my stomach tightens and curls and does freaking cartwheels as puke rises up my throat. She just threw freaking acid on my heart after ripping it straight out of my chest.

  And I let her. Because I fucking fell for her. How pathetic am I, right?

  Turning on my heels, I storm over to Rachel. She runs up to me, meeting me halfway, and her expression tells me she heard some of what was said. I mean, we weren’t exactly quiet.

  “I’m gonna murder her,” she promises. Then she bites her lip and her face softens into a marshmallow-like expression. “I’m sorry, Noah.”

  “It’s all right,” I lie.

  She frowns even deeper. “Noah…”

  “Where did you last see Beth?” I ask her, cutting off her sympathetic tone, nature, look—everything. I can’t take this shit with Red and her feeling sorry for me like this. And I need to get over her, right? We meant nothing, right? So she won’t have any problems with me being with another girl, right? This is so petty and so very, very unlike me, but Red…Red brings out the very freaking worst in me, and I have a difficult time remembering how I was before I met her.

  “She was by the cooler. Why?” she says, frowning.

  “I’ll see you around,” I tell her and move in the direction of the cooler, but she grabs my hand, pulling me back to her and her confused expression.

  “Noah, what are you doing?”

  “What you suggested,” I say. “Anyone’s gotta be better than Red, right?”

  “Yeah, but not when you’re like this—”

  “Beth!” I call out, and she whirls around from giggling at a team player named Jack. Her eyes seem to sparkle in the dim light as I say, “Wanna get outta here?”

  “Noah!” Rachel hisses in a warning tone.

  I turn back to her and duck my head, smirking. “I’ll be fine, Rach. I’m just gonna have fun like a normal college student.”

  “You called me?” Beth purrs beside me.

  We both look at her, and I take her hand.

  “Come on.” I nod to the parking lot, and her eyes are definitely lighting up.

  “Noah…” I hear Rachel say before I pull the hand she’s holding away and fling it around Beth’s shoulder.

  “See you later, Rach. You’re the best.” I wink at her and ignore the sinking feeling that what I’m doing is very fucked up, as Beth and I slink away to the parking lot. A nagging voice in the back of my head cries and wails that I should stop, that this is very wrong. But what does he know? I followed his advice with Red, and look how that ended up. So I reach inside my head, turn his voice off, and press Beth against a random car and kiss her.

  Her lips are cold and taste like oversaturated strawberry Chapstick. I gently press her into the cherry-red Nissan, listening to her moan against our closed mouths. She opens her mouth, trying to deepen the kiss, but I keep it close-mouthed. A part of me, that annoying voice, creeps up and begs for this to be as conservative as possible. As if to save Red from my kissing another girl deeply like I kissed her, but with ten times more passion and desire and…and affection.

  “Mmm…Noah,” she says, and a flash of imagery of the motel and rain pouring and her whispering that exact phrase crosses my mind. I press into her more, deepening the kiss like she wants so desperately. She smiles giddily and sways her hips slightly, clutching my face, seemingly satisfied with my giving in. “Noah—” she begins, but I look to my left and spot a particular car that grabs my attention.

  “Shut…” I begin, rethink how mean that would have been, smile, and drop my voice as I pull back slightly. “Wrap your legs around me,” I command her, then run a thumb over her bottom lip. She licks the tip as a yes and hops up. I grab her quickly and walk over to the car, allowing her to kiss my neck.

  Dropping her ass on the car, she howls in laughter as it makes a little beeping sound.

  “Oooh, you’re so bad,” she croons and pecks my lips, hands traveling under my shirt.

  I just smirk and kiss her again. The kiss is open and closed and filled with her moaning and swaying her hips, which I find very annoying and un-intimate, for some strange reason. When I kiss Red, it’s passionate as hell, sure. But it’s also closed off and sweet and filled with unspoken words of…admiration between our lips. There’s no purring or “ooh-la-la’s” or bouts of high-pitched screams.

  How I ever had sex with her and not double over in cringe-attacks and laughter is a real wonder. That makes me chuckle a little, and realization hits me square in the chest like a freight train: I don’t like this, don’t like her, and I definitely don’t like that we’re doing this on Red’s car.

  As I pull back and try to unlatch her arms from my neck, she groans and desperately tries to pull me back into the kiss.

  “What are you doing? Kiss me,” she says, dramatically breathlessly, probably trying to imitate the girls in romance novels or movies, but all she achieves is looking hilarious, and I feel horrible for thinking it, but I can’t do this. The more I try to hurt someone who isn’t even looking, the more I feel dumb and silly.

  “Beth, I—” I begin to gently let her down easy when I’m interrupted.

  “On my car? Are you fucking kidding me?” Red screams, clutching her keys so hard, I’m pretty sure blood is dripping onto the pavement.

  Oh, crap.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Time freezes on my behalf. I need time to think for some reason, even though my conscience reminds me that, technically, I’m not doing anything wrong. Nothing except for the fact that we’re on her car. But besides that, I have free range to do whatever the hell I please without her having the right to be pissed. Like she just screamed in my face a while ago, we mean absolutely nothing to each other. So why should she be bothered by what I’m doing with Beth?

  “Noah,” Beth whines, gripping the collar of my jersey. “Let’s take this back to my place.” She lets out what I assume is supposed to sound like a flirtatious giggle but ends up sounding eerily similar to a rooster crowing in the morning.

  I open my mouth to reply but am abruptly interrupted.

  “Like hell you will,” Red snaps. Her eyes are wide, and a promise of violence flashes against them like a flashlight. She wouldn’t dare hit her, I think, but then I notice her taking a small step forward, glaring at Beth. “Now get the hell off my car, get off of him, and fucking leave,” she demands loudly, keeping her hands at her sides, balled into fists.

  I look at the ground. “You’re bleeding,” I say when there’s other matters to be discussed. Like why she even cares what I do with Beth or any other girls, but there’s blood in a small puddle on the ground. And she doesn’t seem to be in the least bit of pain. Worry floods me instantly.

  “Did you not just hear me?” she screams and shifts her scowl to me, but I keep my gaze down at the puddle, at the fresh blood dripping into it.

  “Exactly who do you think you are?” Beth shakes her head, eyes batting.

  Red scoffs. “I’m the one who should be asking that.”

  “You’re bleeding,” I repeat.

  “I’m the girl who was making out with the lovely Noah here.” Gripping my shirt and tugging my body to her, Beth says, “Isn’t that right, sweetie?”

  “Get. Your. Fucking hand…off of him, or I swear to fucking God—”

  “You’re bleeding!” I say a little louder.

  The girls stop having their stupid girl fight; Red’s gaze is intense, while Beth’s is annoyed.

  “Who gives a shit? I saw her blowing up at you,” Beth says. “She doesn’t
deserve you. Never has. Never will.”

  “Like a whore like you will last two seconds with him.” Red laughs.

  Whore? She doesn’t even know her. The wind gushes suddenly, sending Beth’s short pink skirt flying upward. She pushes it down and Red chuckles, as if proving her point right. And I hate it.

  “Don’t talk to her like that,” I warn her.

  Her jaw drops like I just said something completely outrageous.

  “See how much of a good guy he is? How could you have possibly thought he would like you? All you do is hop from bad guy to bad guy and fuck a few people over. He deserves better, hon, and I’m that.”

  Now wait a minute—

  “You better take that fucking back or I will stab you in the fucking eye with your skanky heel!” Red howls and storms over to us. I give her a pointed look, and she stops. Surprisingly, she looks obedient and stares into my eyes.

  “The only thing I’ll be taking back is him—to my apartment,” Beth croons and runs a hand down my chest. I grab her wrist and give her a look as well, one that shouts, “Shut up, please, before she kills us both.”

  “Touch him again! Do it! I fucking dare you!” Red shouts.

  “Okay.” She cups my face, sending a shit-eating smirk Red’s way.

  “I am going to murder you!” Red cries, launching forward.

  “Stop. Please.” I grab her, wrapping my arms around her waist. Pulling her back to the driver side door, I gently push her against it. “Stop this now, Red,” I command. She thrashes, and that violent lust flashes in her eyes, and I look down to her bloody hand. “You don’t get to do this.” My voice cracks, and she stares at me with this wide-eyed expression that tugs at my heart.

  “Murder?” Beth giggles, nails dragging down several chalkboards. “Don’t you favor another crime? Or are you just sticking with what you know best?”

  What? “What are you talking about?” I look back at her, but Red makes a pained noise, and I look back at her, then her hand. She gulps and presses her forehead into my chest.