Toxic

  Our tongues would tangle.

  I pounded the piano harder.

  His fingers would dig into my arms as he lifted me into the air.

  I pulled back from the piano, stopping the music, and then gently started the rhythmic cadence again.

  Our kiss was the perfect joining of music.

  He was the left hand, I was the right.

  Separate they sounded like silly scales.

  Together — they were beautiful.

  When I stopped the piece, I was sweating.

  “Open your eyes,” Gabe whispered.

  He was breathing so heavily it looked like he’d just run a marathon. With a smile he tucked my fallen hair behind my ear and tilted my chin toward him.

  “That…” He leaned in. “…is how you perform. Like every kiss is both your first and last — like you’re saying both hello and goodbye — like you’ve just been born… like you’ve just died.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  In all my years living — I’d never experienced such a powerful kiss. The force in which our mouths met, our bodies fused, was electrifying — and we hadn’t even touched. How’s that for insanity? —Gabe H.

  Gabe

  I was going to kiss her.

  I don’t know what the hell I’d been thinking to give advice like that, especially considering I knew I was already attracted to her and we were locked in a small confined space. Bad enough that the music was adding to her intoxicating scent. Worse — that in order to live I kind of had to breathe.

  So I greedily sucked in every inch of air — praying that it would be permeated with her — I wanted to taste her that bad.

  But each greedy inhale — left me parched.

  My gaze lowered to her lips — and stayed there.

  The bench made a cracking nose as she moved forward. An inch closer and our mouths would be touching.

  I hadn’t kissed a girl out of pure savage need.

  In four years.

  A small sigh escaped her mouth as I moved my hands to the side of her face and pressed a tender kiss right on the corner where her lips met.

  Another sigh.

  Another kiss on the opposite corner.

  She clenched my wrists with her hands.

  Next, our mouths collided.

  Notes fused together.

  I flattened my hands against hers then interlocked our fingers, slowly pulling her up from the piano bench and walking her backward toward the wall.

  Her soft tongue pushed against my lips. When I opened my mouth, everything about Saylor became my identity as her scent and warmth swallowed me whole.

  She moved her hands to my shoulders and then gave my long hair a little tug.

  Of course she’d have no idea that hair pulling was my Achilles heel — but it was almost worse than that.

  Because it turned off my need to be safe with her.

  And made me want to give her everything.

  My phone started buzzing in my pocket.

  Not now. Anytime but now.

  Her body was pressed too tight against me, the kiss more urgent then before. My phone kept buzzing as if reminding me that my time wasn’t my own — not anymore.

  I broke off the kiss. “I’m sorry.” I fumbled with my phone and glanced at her swollen lips. “Damn sorry.” I shook my head and cursed all phones to hell. “But I have to take this.”

  Without offering any other explanation, I answered.

  “Oh Gabe, good.” Martha let out a shaky breath, “I was hoping you’d answer. Listen. There’s been a situation. A man came by—”

  “What did he look like?” And just like that, reality hit me smack in the face. I still couldn’t have a normal life. An innocent girl like Saylor? Not my reality. No matter how bad I wanted it.

  “He had really light brown hair and blue eyes.” Martha cleared her throat. “He asked for you by your real name.”

  “Parker?” I asked.

  She was silent and then said quietly, “No, your other name.”

  “Shit.”

  I heard Martha fumble with the phone a bit. “Not to worry. I set him to rights, but he wasn’t just looking for you. He asked for her.”

  “By name?” God, I hoped… I prayed.

  “Her full legal name.”

  Guilt assaulted me. While I was here playing passionate music lover with Saylor, someone could have taken my world from me while simultaneously exposing every last private detail to the media.

  “Do you need me to come?”

  “No.” Martha let out the mother of all heavy sighs. “Just come on your normal day, and I’ll let you know if we see him again. He may still be hanging around, so just—be careful. And, Gabe?”

  “Yeah?” My voice was hollow.

  “Do you know who he is?”

  “My dad.” I licked my lips. “And he’s finally figured it out.”

  I ended the call and made my way toward the door. She’d heard me say something about my dad, but I knew I’d been far enough away that she didn’t hear anything that Martha had said. My secrets remained safe. For now.

  “Is everything okay?” Saylor asked.

  I couldn’t even look at her — didn’t want to see the disappointment in her face when I rejected her.

  “Sure, um, look I have to go take care of something. Why don’t you keep practicing a bit longer and I’ll see you later, okay?”

  “Gabe…”

  “Yeah?” I had the door halfway open. So close.

  “Why won’t you look at me?”

  Steeling my resolve, I forced a happy go lucky smile and turned, giving her a sly wink. “Sorry, just lost in thoughts, you should probably practice another hour or so. No worries, everything’s fine.”

  Her eyes scanned my face. “Is telling the truth so hard, Gabe?”

  My smile fell. “You have no idea.”

  I pulled the door shut behind me and made my way down the hall. It was time to ask for Wes’s help — because someone in my family had finally told my dad about Princess.

  Meaning. My time — really was up.

  I took time to memorize the way the building smelled — I’d miss it. The way the architecture of UW was old yet managed to still feel new and exciting.

  The salty smell of the ocean.

  The mist hanging in the air.

  My past had caught up to me — and I had to run.

  For both our sakes.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  I wondered if there would ever come a day when Gabe would finally be free enough to be himself — the person he was born to be, not mask number one or smile number two. I wondered if he even knew how lost he really was — or if he was happy making the maze his home, the mask his identity, his life a lie. —Saylor

  Saylor

  “So, how are things going for you at the Home?” Lisa asked, taking a large bite out of her pizza and smacking her lips together. We’d been working at the Home for well over three weeks. “I’ve been doing some really cool art projects with everyone, but other than that it’s been pretty uneventful.” Lisa sighed heavily and took another large bite out of her pizza.

  Just with her mention of the Home — my body went hot all over, because I associated the Home with Gabe, and when I thought of Gabe, I thought of kissing.

  It had been two days since my kiss with Gabe.

  And yes, I was counting. Because that was also two days during which I hadn’t heard one word from him. It wasn’t like I could go to the Home and see if he was there; that’s something called stalking and it’s illegal. I even thought about lying and saying I left my cell phone, but with my luck he’d see right through it and know just how pathetic I really was.

  And how much I wanted him to kiss me again.

  I wasn’t sure if that’s how it would always be with Gabe. Either we were arguing or kissing. Regardless, I recognized something. Being with Gabe was like going to a zoo and watching the lions stalk in front of the windows of their cage. Give them their freedom and
they’ll devour you, but as long as they keep themselves contained — keep everything in check — they’re safe.

  Gabe was only as safe as he allowed himself to be.

  And that was both alarming and enticing all at once.

  Then again, scary things always were. Scary and beautiful were always interchangeable in my mind. Maybe it was because of the music.

  “Whoa, lost ya there for a minute,” Lisa joked. “So, things at the Home? That boring? Or is it just my charming personality?”

  “Sorry.” I felt my face heat, and I picked up a piece of pizza. It tasted like sand in my mouth, but whatever. “It’s been great. I mean, at first it was kind of uncomfortable, but now I love it.”

  Lisa smiled happily. I’d always wondered why she didn’t have a boyfriend. She was one of those girls that, if you didn’t know them really well, you would assume was stuck up and rude. But she was the exact opposite.

  “Good, I’m having fun too. Then again, I’m reading them stories, not teaching them how to play music, but we can’t all be that talented.”

  I laughed and set my pizza down. “Well, we only have what? Six more weeks to go?”

  She groaned. “Don’t remind me. Mr. Miller keeps hitting on me. I finally took away his walker and said I’d only kiss him if he could walk the two feet to meet me.”

  “Oh no!” I started laughing hysterically. “Did he even try?”

  “Yes,” she grumbled. “The dirty old bastard walked all the way up to me, then kissed me on the cheek and took his walker back.”

  I laughed harder.

  She threw a piece of pepperoni at my face.

  “Anyway, the residents are pretty cool.” She shrugged.

  This was my chance. To ask about Gabe or at least find out more details about Princess. I cleared my throat and began. “That girl, you know… the one in the wheelchair?”

  “Which one?” She suddenly found great interest in picking the toppings off her piece.

  “The one they call Princess.”

  Her hand hovered over the pizza. “Yeah.”

  “Her and Gabe… they seem really close.”

  She sighed and gave me a helpless shrug. “Gabe’s like that with everyone.”

  I felt my face fall. Was that what he was doing with me? Was I just like Princess? Was he just helping me because he wanted me to feel good about myself? About my music? Maybe that’s why he hadn’t called. I was… just like Princess… a charity case?

  “No!” Lisa put down her pizza and held out her hands. “Not like that, I mean… No, no, no, you’re different.”

  Yeah, the last thing I needed was to look desperate enough to try to pry details out of his cousin. “It’s fine. Let’s not talk about him.”

  “Who?” The door opened and Wes’s head poked around. “Who are we not talking about?”

  “Gabe,” Lisa answered honestly while I smacked her on the arm.

  “He’s a crap cook. Don’t know what anyone would see in him anyway.” He winked at both of us and then stepped fully into the room. “Hey, Lisa, Kiersten needs help with… cooking.”

  Lisa’s eyebrows knit together. “Cooking? What does she need help with?”

  Wes looked between the two of us helplessly. “The pan?”

  “Are you asking?”

  “Can you just help?” He put his hands together in a begging motion. “Please?”

  “Men.” Lisa shot up off the floor and left the room.

  Wes sat down in her spot and took a piece of pizza.

  “Yeah, you’re the worst liar I’ve ever seen.”

  “Tell me about it.” He winked. “Anyway, we’re having a surprise birthday party for Lisa tomorrow night. I want you to come.” He held up his hand. “Correction. We want you to come. We all do.”

  “But—”

  “Nope, the only way you’re getting out of is if you have a high fever, get hit by a car, or you’re puking into a toilet. And even then I’ll need to see the thermometer, the doctor’s bill, and-or the puke.”

  I hesitated a breath, taking in his piercing blue eyes and chiseled features. “You’re weird.”

  He set the pizza down and leaned forward. Holy crap. How was Kiersten able to actually look at him in the face without falling over and swooning? It wasn’t that I was attracted to him or anything, but man, he was pretty.

  “Yeah, well…” He shrugged. “Let’s just say I don’t want you to miss it, okay?”

  “What time?”

  “Five.”

  “Do I need to dress up or anything? I’ll be volunteering tomorrow at the Pacific Northwest Group Home again.”

  “Nah.” He waved me off. “Just wear clothes.”

  “Good advice.”

  He laughed. “I’m the king of advice, what can I say?”

  “Aw, you two kids bonding?” Lisa said entering the room again. “Oh and Wes, Kiersten needed help with finding the cooking spray for the pan.”

  He snapped his fingers. “That was it.”

  Lisa’s eyes narrowed. “Sometimes I wonder about you.”

  I took a sip of soda.

  “It’s the drugs,” he said in a serious voice, causing me to choke on the leftover Diet Pepsi in my mouth.

  “He means the good ones,” Lisa added.

  I looked between them.

  “Legal drugs,” Wes explained. “To keep me healthy. Just in case cancer tries to come back and make me its bitch.”

  “R-right.” My voice was hoarse from choking.

  Wes smiled that same blinding smile that belonged on every freaking billboard in America and pushed to his feet. “Alright ,ladies, have fun with your pizza party. I’m going to go help my fiancée in the kitchen.”

  “Kissing her and trying to make her wear the sexy apron isn’t helping!” Lisa shouted after him.

  “A guy can try!” he yelled back.

  The minute the door shut behind him Lisa’s gaze narrowed in on me. “What did Wes want?”

  “Uh, to give me advice.”

  “He should have majored in Psychology.” She shook her head.

  “Yeah, that or modeling.”

  Snorting, Lisa tossed a piece of sausage in her mouth, “Ain’t that the truth. Alright, let’s finish writing up our stupid reports from the past four weeks so we can watch crap reality TV.”

  “Deal.” I pulled out my computer and started typing.

  Three hours later and we were halfway through the first season of New Girl. Every time the door opened my heart sped up a bit — hoping to catch a glimpse of Gabe. Lisa said they hung out twenty-four seven.

  Just as we were starting the second season, the door flew open and Gabe strolled in, his eyes focused on a box in his hands. “Lisa, it’s time for you to dye my hair again. It’s already lightning up and I’m getting strange looks from—”

  Lisa cleared her throat.

  Gabe looked up.

  “Hi.” I waved from the couch. Lame. I should have at least smiled brighter, but I was too busy being completely affected by his proximity and a bit confused as to why he needed to dye his hair — as if he was keeping it dark for a reason.

  A muscle clenched in his jaw. “Hey.”

  “He gets gray hair,” Lisa explained.

  “What?” he roared.

  “And old ladies hit on him.” She examined her nails. “Pisses him off, so he makes me dye it. Isn’t that right, Gabe?” She smiled brightly while he glowered at her like she’d just kicked him in the balls and said you’re welcome.

  “Right. I’m a cougar magnet.”

  “Cool.” I fought a smile. “So why do you dye it darker? Why not go blond or something?”

  The smile froze on Lisa’s face.

  Gabe smirked. “Black, just like my soul.”

  “Wow. Should have seen that one coming,” I replied, falling into an easy laughter with both him and Lisa.

  “Why don’t you do it?” She pressed pause on the TV.

  “Do what?” Both Gabe and I asked in unison
.

  Lisa huffed and got up from the couch. “Dye Gabe’s hair. Besides, I just got my nails done.” She snatched the box from his hands and threw it at me.

  I caught it midair and watched as Gabe’s eyes narrowed in on his cousin, that same jaw flexing even tighter this time like he’d just bit down on something hard. “But Lisa, you actually have experience dying hair.”

  “Hey!” I acted offended. I had no idea what I was doing.

  Lisa smacked him. “She’s a girl. Dying hair is as natural as breathing.”

  “Doubt that.” They engaged in a silent stare down while I looked on.

  Gabe tore his gaze away from her and swore. “Fine, but if I wake up with bald spots and earn the nickname patch for the rest of the semester I’m blaming you.”

  “As much as I’d enjoy that…” I got up from the couch and made my way toward the bathroom. “I’ll do my best to make sure all hair stays on your head and not in my clutches. Deal?”

  “On second thought…” Gabe came around the couch with a wolfish grin. “If you’re pulling my hair — damn, I may like that.”

  “Dip your balls in some cold water before you go in that bathroom and shut the door, will ya?” Lisa asked. “I don’t want my friend getting taken advantage of on school property.”

  “Chill.” Gabe winked at Lisa and licked his lips. “If I wanted to take advantage of her I sure as hell wouldn’t start on your bathroom floor.”

  “And the visual images just keep coming,” Lisa sang. “Remember, Gabe. She walks in with her virtue. I expect her to leave with the same.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Gabe called, then followed me into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. The bathroom suddenly felt fifty times too small as he maneuvered around me, put the toilet seat down, and sat.

  Hands shaking, I pulled out the instructions and started reading.

  All the while noticing that Gabe hadn’t said a word once we were alone.

  “Your hands are shaking.” He finally pointed out.

  “Well. you’re making me nervous because you keep tapping your foot.” I snapped.

  “Oh.” He stopped tapping. “Sorry.”