Page 5 of Pride


  Kaia could take care of herself. She’d had plenty of experience, hadn’t she? It’s not like anyone had ever looked out for her, or let her believe there was someone ready to catch her when she fell. But fending off a crazed pervert on the subway—or a crazed ex-boyfriend in a high school parking lot—was one thing. Being stranded, isolated, helpless? That was another.

  Still, she sat motionless in the car, posing for an invisible audience, calm, cool, and collected. She didn’t call someone, anyone, just for the comfort of the sound of another human voice. She didn’t wrap her fingers around the steering wheel with a white-knuckled grip, and she didn’t whirl her head around at the slightest sound or movement coming from just beyond her peripheral vision. And when the tow truck finally arrived, an hour later, she didn’t crack a smile.

  Especially not when she recognized the driver. It was that slacker from school, that scuzzy, stoned, frustratingly sexy guy who lately seemed to show up everywhere she turned. He wore a grease-stained T-shirt and oversize jeans with a gaping hole at the left knee, and as he hopped out of the truck and loped toward her, Kaia noted with disgust that his shoes were held together with duct tape. His scruffy black hair was crying out for shampoo, and his face was covered with dark stubble—five o’clock shadow, maybe, but from which day? This was her conquering hero: tall, dark, and dirty.

  “Took you long enough,” she grumbled as he helped her into the cab of the tow truck.

  “Nice to see you again, too, Kaia,” he said, checking one last time that the BMW was firmly attached to the back of the truck and then climbing into the driver’s seat.

  “Do I know you?” she asked, wrinkling her nose to make it clear that an acquaintanceship with his type seemed unlikely.

  “You’ve seen me around,” he grunted.

  Nice of him not to bring up the time he’d rescued her from some drunken barfly looking for a new floozy for his harem. Kaia had done her best to forget. But now to be rescued yet again by the same deadbeat? It was bringing all the sordid details rushing back. Not that she was ready to offer her thanks. Or even her acknowledgment.

  Instead, Kaia snapped her fingers as if she’d just made the connection.

  “You’re the pizza guy!” she said triumphantly. “Weed, wasn’t it?”

  “Reed.” He shook his head and scowled. “Reed Sawyer.”

  “Of course, of course. Can’t imagine what made me think of weed.” Could it be the stench of pot following you around everywhere you go? she added silently.

  “Maybe it’s because you keep tossing me away and I just keep coming back,” he suggested, seeming to take cheer from her discomfort.

  “So you drive a tow truck now?” she asked. As if she cared.

  “It’s my dad’s garage. I help him out sometimes.”

  A grease monkey? It figured.

  They drove in silence for a while, Kaia doing her best not to admire the way his sinewy body moved beneath the grungy black T-shirt and decaying jeans. Such a shame, a prize specimen like this, buried beneath so much grime. But if I cleaned him up a little … she mused—then caught herself in horror. Now was not the time to be taking in a stray. No matter how his taut, tan forearm brushed her skin as he shifted gears, no matter how firmly his long, thin fingers massaged the steering wheel, no matter how—stop, she warned herself. Just stop.

  “So, you okay?” he finally asked.

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I pick up a lot of women out here,” he explained. “Being alone, stranded for all that time in the middle of nowhere, it drives ’em crazy. By the time I get there, they’re usually pretty shaken up.”

  “And I guess when they see you and that sexy smile of yours, they just fall into your arms, swooning with gratitude,” she sneered. Her voice quivered as he turned his head briefly toward her. She ignored it. “Yours for the taking—is that what you’re waiting for?”

  “I’m waiting for a thank-you,” he answered, unruffled. “But if you’re in a swooning mood …”

  “Thank you,” she said grudgingly, turning to stare out the dusty window and watch the shadowy scenery fly by.

  “You’re welcome.” There was a pause, and then, “So, I’ve got a sexy smile?”

  Damn.

  “Forget it,” Kaia snapped. “I guess you desert cowboys are as unfamiliar with sarcasm as you are with personal hygiene.”

  She didn’t turn back to face him, and he didn’t say anything, but she could imagine the superior look on his face, the mocking smile.

  And, for the record, it was sexier than ever.

  Adam pulled into the lot and hopped out of his car. He was late. He’d wanted to greet Harper as soon as she’d finished her first shift. But the coach had kept him after practice to work on his free throws.

  “You seem off today,” the coach had observed.

  Wonder why.

  Now he jogged toward the entrance—he hated making her wait.

  But the figure standing in the entryway anxiously scanning the parking lot wasn’t Harper, it was Beth. A fact that he registered only moments before sweeping her into his arms.

  Instead, he stopped short, and gave a halfhearted wave.

  She offered him a weak smile.

  “Picking up Harper?” she asked, and he wondered whether she, too, was suddenly remembering all the moments they’d shared in this doorway, Adam rescuing her from a long night of work.

  He nodded.

  “She’s getting changed,” Beth told him, refusing to meet his eyes.

  “Thanks. And … I guess you’re waiting for …”

  “Kane. Yeah.” She looked over his shoulder into the parking lot again, as if willing the Camaro to appear. It didn’t.

  “So anyway, how’s—”

  “Adam, I wanted to—”

  They spoke at once, then stopped abruptly and laughed.

  “Well, this is awkward,” Beth admitted.

  “Tell me about it.” Adam idly rubbed the back of his neck. Where was Harper? “Maybe I should just go inside and—”

  “Adam, wait.” She put her hand on his arm to stop him, then snatched it back—they both froze. It was the first time she’d touched him since … since the last time he’d pushed her away. He’d forgotten how soft her hands were. “Adam, there’s something I’ve been really wanting to say to you. I know you think that—”

  She broke off, and he waited, wondering. It was the first time in a long time he’d been able to look at her without flinching, without needing to turn away or worse, to hurt her. Did this mean he was finally getting over her? It certainly felt like he was getting over … something.

  “Well …,” she began again hesitantly, “I want you to know that, even after everything that’s—”

  “Adam!” Pushing past Beth, Harper came flying into his arms. “So sorry I’m late. You have no idea what kind of a day I had.”

  He gently extricated himself from her embrace and took her hand. “You can tell me all about it in the car, Harper. I’m sure you did great in there today.”

  Harper gave him a kiss on the cheek and then put a possessive arm around his shoulders.

  “Oh, I couldn’t have done it without Beth,” she gushed, smiling at Beth, whose face had begun to pale. “I can’t wait to tell you what a wonderful help she was today.”

  Adam glanced quickly over at Harper, unable to tell whether she was sincere. It wasn’t like her to have anything so nice to say about anyone, much less Beth.

  I never give her enough credit, he chided himself. He’d have to make sure that tonight, at least, he told her how proud he was of her. Not just for the job, but for everything.

  Feeling a sudden rush of warmth and gratitude that he had someone like Harper in his life, Adam pulled her into a hug and gave her a long kiss.

  “What was that for?” she asked when they finally broke apart.

  “Just because,” he said sheepishly, keeping his arms around her.

  “He does that all the time,” Harper expla
ined to Beth, who couldn’t even muster a smile. “Oh, but I guess you, of all people, know that!”

  “Hey, were you about to say something?” Adam asked, remembering they’d been interrupted. For a moment, he’d almost forgotten Beth was there.

  “No, it was nothing,” Beth mumbled. “You guys have a good night.”

  Harper and Adam walked off toward the car together, hand in hand. Halfway there, he turned back. Beth’s solitary figure seemed suddenly frail and lonely, standing in the shadows.

  “You sure you’ll be okay here?” he called back. “You don’t need a ride or anything?”

  “I’m fine,” she shouted, with just a hint of a quaver in her voice. “Kane will be here any minute.”

  That’s right—Kane. Beth was his problem now, Adam reminded himself. He knew that. It was just that looking at her there, her blond hair billowing around her head like a golden halo, it was a little too easy to forget.

  It had been one of the worst days of her life—which made the night that much sweeter. After driving home, they’d come out back to lie together under the stars, on the large, flat rock between the border of their two backyards. It had been a long and painful day, and all she wanted to do was lie in his arms and breathe him in. Unfortunately, Adam had other ideas.

  “Can you believe Kane? Grinning at me like that? As if nothing had ever happened?”

  Harper sighed and rolled toward Adam, wrapping her arms around him.

  “Maybe you should try not to think about it so much,” she suggested. “I hate to see you like this.”

  “I can’t stand it!” Adam raged. “I mean, what does she even see in him?”

  Harper just clung to him tighter and tried to ignore his words and their meaning. They had never really talked about what had happened between Adam and Beth, and Harper liked it that way. Because that way she could pretend that he’d forgotten. Moved on. That he only cared about Harper and what she wanted.

  “He’s been with so many women,” Adam continued. “He’s a slut, you know? Can a guy be a slut? Because he is—and she just fell for it. Like he’ll treat her any better than the rest of them.” He snorted. “Someone like that will never change.”

  Almost unnoticeably, Harper stiffened and pulled away. It was that word. Slut. Not that she thought she—or that Adam—saw her as—

  The thing was, Harper was no vestal virgin. She didn’t regret any of the things she’d done—even if she had, she could never take them back. She’d never be Beth—and if that’s what he wanted …

  “Hey, where are you going?” Adam asked, finally noticing that she was slowly easing away from him. He placed a warm hand on her cheek and grazed his fingers down her neck. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be talking about this. It’s not fair to you.”

  “No.” She sat up, pulling him up next to her, and took both of his hands in hers. “I want you to talk about whatever you need to. You can say anything to me. You know that.”

  He gave her a mischievous smile. “Does that mean I’m allowed to call you ‘Gracie’ as much as I want?” he asked, knowing how much she hated the childhood nickname.

  “Only if I’m allowed to tickle you as much as I want!” she shot back, and launched herself at him, wrestling him onto his back as he shook with laughter. Finally, she took pity on him and quieted him with a long, deep kiss. It went on and on—and though she’d promised herself that she would wait just a bit longer, until they were up in the mountains, away, alone, and everything was perfect, she didn’t want to pull away. His lips were so soft, his kiss so firm, and their bodies felt so right together, as if each had been designed with the other in mind.

  So, after several long minutes, it was Adam who pulled away first, breathless. He brushed a lock of hair away from her face and kissed her lightly on the forehead. It was a cold, clear night, and as she lay against the cool granite, she could see her dark bedroom window. How many nights had she come home alone and gazed out at the backyard, at the rock where she and Adam used to play as children, wishing she were out there with him again? And how many of those nights had he been in his own room, only a few yards away—with Beth?

  “Harper, I just want you to know,” Adam murmured softly in her ear, “I love—”

  Her heart stopped beating.

  “—being here with you,” he concluded.

  She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them slowly, gazing into his clear, trusting eyes. So he loved … being with her.

  It wasn’t everything—but it was a beginning.

  chapter

  4

  Adam had been waiting desperately for the chance to get away from everything, to clear his head. It had been such a confusing autumn, everything falling apart so suddenly, the world he thought he knew turning upside down. He just wanted to get away from it all: the classes, the pressure, the people. He was hoping he and Harper could have a long, quiet, romantic weekend to figure everything out, to be together, leave school and all that baggage behind.

  But that’s the thing about school trips: the rest of the school has a nasty habit of coming along.

  “Dude, I am going to tear up those slopes!”

  Which is, Adam supposed, how he’d ended up stuffed in the back of a school bus with a bunch of his basketball “buddies” listening to them vie for the title of BMOC (Big Moron Off Campus).

  “There better be some hot honeys up there!”

  “Yeah, because I’m looking for a ski bunny who knows all about going down—and I don’t mean down the mountain!”

  “Good one, man.”

  It’s not that he didn’t like hanging out with the guys—even now, as they were bragging about their nonexistent ski skills and carving their initials into the cracked leather bus seats—but he just wasn’t in the mood.

  “What’s the matter, Morgan?” his seatmate asked, elbowing him in the ribs. “All this guy talk too rough for you? You’d rather be up front with the ladies?”

  Uh—yes?

  “This dude is so whipped,” his first-string point guard confided to the rest of the team. They roared in approval.

  “Like you’d be talking about the honeys if Nikki was back here,” Adam shot back, and the point guard shut up, fast. He could intimidate 6′4″ guys on the court—but 5′3″ Nikki left him quivering in his Nikes, and they all knew it. When the girls were around, everyone clammed up, like perfect gentlemen.

  But the girls were all the way up in the front of the bus, the guys had slipped some Baileys into their morning coffee—and the desert road stretched ahead of them with no end in sight.

  “I’m gonna get so ripped tonight—you guys in?”

  “Shit, yeah!”

  Adam smiled weakly as his teammates cheered around him.

  His inner five-year-old had only one silent, but increasingly insistent question: Are we there yet?

  Not even close.

  Winter in the desert sucked.

  Kaia knew she shouldn’t have been too surprised—everything in the desert sucked—but winter was yet another, surprisingly painful disappointment.

  She’d always looked forward to the season with a childlike enthusiasm: skating in Rockefeller Center, Frozen Hot Chocolate at Serendipity, the Macy’s Christmas decorations, even The Nutcracker at Lincoln Center. By January, everyone would be tired of the biting cold, the dark skies, the ever-present slush. But in December, winter was fresh and new, the air crisp and refreshing, and it was as if the entire city came alive.

  Here, on the other hand—nothing. More hot days, more cold nights. Desert wind, desert sand. No ice skating, no cozy Burberry scarves—and certainly, no snow.

  She’d called Powell, hoping that even from a distance he could liven up her night. But there’d been no answer. And he hadn’t called back. Not that Kaia missed him. Not that she wished she was up there on a stupid school trip—even home was an improvement over that. (Having her teeth drilled during a Novocain shortage would have been an improvement over that.) But she was bored, and s
he was bitter. And she couldn’t ignore the fact that while she was stuck on the couch, Powell would be whooshing his way down the slopes. And he wouldn’t be alone. That handsome figure and sexy accent pretty much went to waste in a town like Grace; a ski resort, however, was a whole different story.

  Not that Kaia cared. She had a life of her own—even if it wasn’t a very thrilling one at the moment.

  On a sudden impulse, she grabbed the phone book and flipped open to the entry for Guido’s Pizza. She wasn’t that hungry—especially not for the dried-out slab covered in greasy processed cheese and a watery layer of sauce that Guido had the nerve to call “pizza.” But if the pizza wasn’t tasty, the delivery boy definitely was—and, hungry or not, Kaia could use some good eye candy.

  Let Powell do whatever he wanted up on the mountain. She was more than ready to have a little fun of her own.

  “You’re going down!” Harper squealed, as Adam mashed a handful of snow down the back of her jacket.

  The school had done a surprisingly decent job of picking a resort. White Stone Lodge was no prize in itself. The bus was parked in front of a complex of stout, reddish residential buildings all circling the three-story main lodge building, covered with faux brick and stone in a failed attempt to make it look homey. But even a run-down Motel 6 would have looked appealing in such a setting—a glistening blanket of snow covered the roofs, and delicate icicles dangled over the edge, turning the lodge into a giant gingerbread house rimmed with dripping sugar crystals. Jagged mountain peaks loomed in the background, slicing through a storybook blue sky. The endless grayish beige of the flat desert landscape had never seemed so far away.

  Adam raced away as Harper scooped up an armful of snow and sent it flying in his direction.

  “Face it, you suck at this, Gracie!” he called from a safe distance, pegging a snowball in her direction.

  Oh, really?

  She scooped up another handful and raced after him, tackling him to the ground. They tumbled into the snow together, heaving with laughter. Adam rolled over her and held a dripping snowball a few inches from her face.