Red: Burning Desire (Spectrum Series Book 7)

by Allison White

  “All right, it’s out of the way.” I brush my hands together, finding her bent down. “Ready to paint this masterpiece?”

  She doesn’t reply.

  “Red?”

  She slowly stands up…and she’s holding the file.

  The file that holds her past.

  Fuuuuuuuck.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  I don’t know what to say. I’ve always been loaded with easy-going, charming words clouding my mind. I’ve heard it a lot, that I always know what to say. But I don’t know what the hell to say in this moment. I can’t tell her that I just so happened to stumble upon the file in the middle of the street. Even then, I’d have to explain why I kept it. And I definitely can’t tell her I sought it out because she doesn’t like to elaborate on her past. I’d sound like a dick. So there’s only one thing I can say really.

  “A friend of mine gave it to me because they care about me. They don’t want me to get hurt.” The moment the words fall out of my stupid mouth, I hear what I just said.

  She looks hurt. “You think I’d hurt you?”

  “To be fair, you have before.” Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  Now she just looks pissed. “So because I leave you to take care of some shit a few times or bruise your ego, you have a friend pull this from the university’s record?”

  “No, no—of course not.” I wave my arms around frantically. “I didn’t even ask her to do it. She just did and gave it to me. But I swear, I didn’t read it. I didn’t even open it. Just shoved it under my bed. I never ever planned to read any of it, I swear.”

  “Then why not get rid of it? Why keep it, Noah?”

  “I was going to, but—”

  “But your curiosity got the best of you,” she accuses. I swear, if looks could kill, I would be cold dead and on the floor with mutilated limbs. She’s slightly shaking with so much anger, I wish I could rewind to the last five minutes when we were playful. This is going to blow up in my face; I can see it on hers.

  “No, no. I promise you, I was going to throw it out.” I run a hand through my short curls, frustrated and frantic. “But I completely forgot about it.”

  “But I bet you were tempted to sneak a peek, right?” she seethes through clenched teeth. She takes slow steps toward me, and I back up some, admittedly put off by her glare and burnt-red ears. “Do you want to give it a read? Find out about my fucked-up past, which I have already expressed to you on our date?” she barks.

  “No, of course not! You’re putting words in my mouth!” I accuse. She should believe that I didn’t mean to keep it around. Honest to God, I forgot about it. I wouldn’t ever read it; I have more respect for her. And it hurts that she doesn’t think I do.

  “No, I am not! You kept the freaking file, Noah!” she screams and waves the file around, tears welling in her eyes. “There are things in here that would make you hate me. Prove that I’m not right for you. Just holding it is…” She pauses. Her eyes squeeze shut, hand shaking.

  “Look, I’m sorry. I’ll put it back. No one will know it was taken,” I promise and get closer to her, but the second she notices me, she jumps back and her eyes fly open—fiery and free of tears.

  “No, it’s too late.” She moves to leave, but I step in her way.

  “You can’t just leave because I forgot to put it back. That’s insane!” I snap, and her eyes widen slightly. God damn it! I didn’t mean it like that. She’s just acting a bit…unhinged for no reason. “I’ll have my friend put it back. She’ll put it back where she got it from.”

  Damn. I realize what I’m hinting at before I even have time to reel my words back in my mouth. The somewhat extinguished anger comes raging back in a hellfire held in her eyes, and her free hand forms a tight fist.

  “She—as in that bitch who was just here?” she roars, and I shake my head. “Don’t lie to me, Noah!”

  “Yes! Fine, it was her. But like I said, she was just doing it to protect me.”

  “Protect you from what? Me?”

  “I don’t need protection from you.” She sounds incredibly insane right now. Why would I ever need protection from her? I take several steps toward her, but she backs away, making my heart still as I watch her stare at the ground with finality.

  “Maybe this is what we needed—what you needed.” She flicks her eyes to mine and nods to herself. “Noah, there are things I haven’t told you. Seriously messed-up shit. And you—you really shouldn’t be with me. Rebecca was right to give you this. Here.” She holds it out to me with a wobbly hand as her eyes tear up again. “Just take it. Read it. You need to know how much I don’t deserve you…” She pauses before her voice cries out, “Please, just fucking take it!”

  “No. I will not take it.” My voice cracks, and she lets out a shattering breath. I don’t know what to say or do to erase the doubt that I truly care for her, past all the wrongs she committed in her past. I’ve done messed up things, too. And maybe hearing about it will make her not feel alone in what makes humans humans.

  “Noah—” she begins.

  “I did drugs.” I slice through her words, and she furrows her dark brows at me. Tears stream down her face, but she doesn’t say anything, so I continue. “Mostly party drugs, and I partied a lot. I fucked girls more than I breathed. And after, I treated them like nothing. I was a horrible guy, but that doesn’t make me any less worthy of you. Nor does your past make you any less worthy of me.”

  “Believe me when I tell you I’m doing you a favor,” she says breathlessly, turning to the opened door. I dart my eyes to the door and shake my head. I reach for her, but she snaps her hands to her chest and rushes out, grabbing her shoes and jacket. My heart plummets to my feet, planting me to the ground.

  “Wait, Red! Don’t leave!” I shout and chase after her, clambering down the tall stairs.

  She can’t just leave because I wasn’t going to look at the file. I wouldn’t disrespect her like that, go behind her back and find out more. I want to wait for her to tell me everything without the ridiculous fear of me leaving her. I don’t have the heart to even think I’d leave her because of something she did in her past. I’m in way too deep, and I have no plans to dig myself out. I thought she’d know that by now.

  When I run out of the front door, she’s climbing into her car.

  “Red! Please, don’t go!” The fear of her leaving me for another week makes my voice tremble. I race down the path toward her car, but when I reach out for the handle of the passenger door, she pulls into the road. My heart drops as my hand touches air, and I watch her speed down the road.

  Oh God.

  I stumble and drop onto the curb, pressing my face into my hands. “No,” I murmur, tears welling in my eyes.

  Chapter Forty

  If there ever were a trait about Red, it’d be the ability to tune me out with ease, it seems. It’s been a few days since she found that damned file and split without even giving me a chance to reassure her that I wouldn’t leave her, that I wouldn’t ever abandon her because she fucked up in the past. And it sucks and hurts how easily she can leave me at the drop of a hat. As if I mean little or nothing to her despite the obvious connection we’ve built. But maybe I’m the only one that sees it. I possibly am making it up, this relationship we have.

  I just wish I could turn a knob in a clock, rewind to that day. Stop her before she could bend down, not push the bed out of the way at all. I would remember that the file that holds her past was under my bed and distract her with a kiss. Kissing her always seemed to pull me from the world a little, throwing us into our own bubble, where we could focus on us and us alone.

  If I’m wishing for things, I wish Rachel hadn’t given me the file. What she did was sort of insane. Sneaking into the administration office to steal a file of another student. Her action resulted in this silent battle between Red and me. I’m not saying she created this divide between Red and me completely, but she gave me the bomb, and I wasn’t able to disable it. And when Red found that detonato
r, the explosion was unfathomable and the casualties were even worse.

  I don’t want to, but I ignore Rachel for the first few days. I know she only meant well, but each day that I barely see Red, the more my forgiveness sheds itself, fading away into black smoke, which promptly hangs over my head like a dark cloud. For days, I draw morbidly depressed paintings: a few broken couples there, a weepy dog there, and some distressed ballerinas there.

  Along with painting, that always lets me express my feelings I like to keep bottled inside, I work out. I have been slacking lately, so when I have all the time in the world to brood like a depressed loser, I drag my friends Mike and Ty to the nearest gym.

  I’m here now on the treadmill with some alternative rock band crooning in my ear. My heart is beating much louder than the music heavy with bass and drums. I can feel my limbs turn to licorice as I pump my legs and arms, but the numbness feels a helluva lot better than feeling emotionally tortured. I promised to give Red some time to come to her senses, that we belong together. But as the days faded into one another, that promise crumbled into broken pieces and left me in despair.

  I quickly became a heart-sick teenage boy. I’d seen them when I was in high school. Moping in the halls after their girlfriends grew sick of their doucheness and staring at other girls’ racks or asses or simply cheated because he was on the football team and he thought because of that, he was entitled to more than one girl.

  And now I’m that idiotic, pussy-whipped boy. Except I’m not in love with what blooms between her lips; I am in love with her in whole. Her mesmerizing eyes, her pink lips, her cheeks that naturally glow—just everything.

  And now I’ve fucked everything up, and the only time I get to see her is in class. I tried sitting next to her, but whenever I tried, she gave me pleading eyes or just moved to the other end of the massive lecture hall. My heart broke the first few times, but to avoid any more pain, I stopped and kept a steady worried gaze on her even when I saw her eyes well with tears. It only made me want to get up, say screw it, and kiss her. Let her know that whatever she’s done isn’t enough to deter me.

  I stop the treadmill and grip the handles. “Stop thinking about her,” I command myself. The ache in my chest is beginning to form, producing a lump in my throat. Red will come around. Right?

  “Noah?” a familiar feminine voice says behind me.

  I turn around and am shocked to see Beth…and Rachel. My throat closes briefly. “Hey…” I say unsurely, cheeks most likely reddening. The last time I dodged Rachel was outside of the art room after a session. She looks the same: desperate to apologize. I switch my gaze from her pouty mouth and full brown eyes to Beth’s green-hazel eyes and grinning, glossed mouth.

  “I didn’t know you worked out here.” Her eyes blatantly look over my gray muscle-tank top that’s attached to my sweaty skin and black Adidas trainer pants. I shift on the heels of my Adidas sneakers.

  I laugh nervously and pick up my water bottle, focusing on it so I don’t look at Rachel, who’s staring at me. “I started here recently this week. It seems less pathetic than moping over…” I clear my throat, burning at the memory of her and Red screaming at each other at the bonfire. Even though that night half sucked, I wish I could teleport there. At least I would be able to get close to her without her crying.

  She scoffs and rolls her eyes, understanding without my having to finish the sentence. “Don’t even get me started on that.” She steps closer to the treadmill and bats her eyelashes, which are obviously fake and…why wear makeup to the gym if you’ll just sweat it off? She touches my sweaty forearm. “You should totally get over her. Like, now. She just isn’t good enough for you. I already told you this, but you don’t listen. And now look, crying while looking hot; you deserve so much better.”

  You deserve me, is what she doesn’t say but translates in the frantic batting of her lashes. If she bats them any harder, they’ll fly off.

  “Hey, Noah,” Rachel interrupts Beth’s odd way of flirting. I look at her, then at the floor. “Mind if we talk for a minute?” she asks.

  I can’t find it in me to say no. “Of course.” I step off the treadmill and follow her over to a corner, near the weight-lifting section of the gym.

  “I’ll just be over here, running!” Beth calls out, and I glance over to her running dramatically. Her black shorts are ridiculously tight over her tanned skin, her chest bouncing like melons in a loose bag under her small hot pink sports bra. She bats at me, and I’m afraid she’s going to get too distracted and fall.

  I look back at Rachel, brows tucked in. “How did you know I’d be here?”

  She’s wearing less flashy and tight clothing than her friend, dressed in a simple white tank top and black leggings, black and white running shoes on her small feet. Her pin-straight brunette hair is placed in a delicate high ponytail, and her face is free of makeup, save from some swipes of Chapstick.

  “Ty posted a picture on Instagram of him flexing in the mirror, and you and Mike were in the background,” she explains, and I flick my gaze over to Ty at the lifting section, who’s currently trying and failing to get a blonde girl’s number.

  I roll my eyes. “He’s hopeless.”

  “Yeah.” She chuckles. “He really is.” I smile and laugh a little too at my constantly thirsty friend and roommate. But when I focus on her, her smile dips into a sort of sad frown. “I miss you.”

  I let out a staggering breath. “I miss you too,” I tell her earnestly. She quickly became my best friend, always there for me to listen to my bitching about Red leaving all the time, and this time, I didn’t have her to lay my head on her tiny shoulder. I just want her back; I want to study, help her practice drawing, watch her favorite cheesy chick flick movies. I sort of feel even more empty with her gone from my side.

  To be fair, it’s my fault. I pushed her away, sort of pissed off because of the file and the aftermath it caused. But she was just trying to protect me. In her weird, screwed-up way, she meant well.

  “I’m sorry,” we both blurt out, then laugh. “You go,” we say again, then roll our eyes at our weird sync together.

  “Really, you go first.” I gesture toward her, and she sucks in a deep breath, shoulders rolling back. Then she breathes out heavily and hangs her head a little.

  “I didn’t mean for what happened to happen,” she says. “I didn’t think she’d find the file. If I had any inkling of her actually finding it, I swear to you, I would have never given it to you. I just wanted you to read about the horrible things she’s done.”

  “But I don’t care about the things she did in the past,” I tell her, exasperated, running my fingers through my damp curls. I want her to see the light in Red’s eyes, the smile she gives me under her tough exterior; I want her to experience her hearty laugh when I look at her in a funny way, or the way she gets so passionate when she defends her favorite band of all time, Nirvana.

  But she doesn’t see anything beyond track records and whatever the hell Red got caught up in the past.

  “You should, though, Noah,” she presses. “She’s a really bad person.”

  “Maybe back then, but now…” I grip my hair and look away. Now she’s avoiding me because she’s insecure about herself, insecure about us.

  “But now she is hurting you,” she finishes my sentence, but a lot harsher than I would have gone for. I frown and tuck my hands in my pockets, avoiding her probing eyes. Sensing my hesitation to soak in the truth, she sighs and her face is softer when I look at her. “But you care for her, and I guess that’s all that matters.”

  I grin and nod frantically. “I like her a lot. Like, a lot a lot.” My cheeks heat up like they’re in a fiery oven as I put emphasis on my words.

  She giggles and chews on her lip, as if fighting the fight against Red, and sighs again, nodding to herself mostly. “You love her, don’t you?” she says, and her question makes me freeze like I’m in a box of ice.

  The word love unlocks a door I locked a while ago.
I figured I loved her that day on the cliff, but maybe I knew before, and I just didn’t want to admit it to myself. I haven’t known her long enough, according to the traditional world, for me to love her, but I do. Whenever I think about her, I get hot flashes and crave to see her smile, even if just for a second. She ignites a craving and feeling of home, just by a thought, a glance, a kiss.

  She’s a flame that promises danger and burns, but I float to her, preparing for the passion and pain that she’s bound to give me.

  Yet I keep coming back for more, despite everything. Despite her doubt, her insecurity, Rachel’s warnings, Mike’s caution—everything. They’re like road blocks, and she’s this ball of light of hope and happiness, and I’m plowing through the blocks to get to her in a state of depression.

  “Yes,” I finally answer Rachel. “I do.”

  Her eyes flutter with what I think is subtle happiness, then she exhales deeply. “Then I’m happy for you. I won’t interfere anymore, even if I don’t mean it. Truly.” She pauses and blushes two patches of dainty roses. “Does that mean you forgive me? For the file? Which I’ve put back safely where it belongs?”

  It’s my turn to exhale in relief. “Yes, please.” I bend down and sweep her into my sweaty, stinky body.

  “Gross!” she squeals as she wraps her arms around my neck. “You stink! Like, reeking bad. Did a skunk roll around in trash then shit on you?”

  “Wouldn’t you know?” I tease, and she pinches my neck. Cringing, I pull back and rub the spot she abused. “Abusing me after we made up? How distasteful.”

  She giggles and sticks a tongue out at me. “Get used to it, bestie.” She pokes my stomach.

  I grin. “I’ve missed you,” I admit.

  She smiles wider. “And I’ve missed you.” She walks back into my arms, but this time, it’s sincerer and lasts longer. She smells heavily of vanilla and her hair is drenched with sweet-scented shampoo.