God, I’m tired of secrets.
But God, I want Dare even more.
“On one condition,” I find myself saying. Dare lifts his head, surprised.
“And that is?”
“I don’t have a lot of experience with guys like you,” I tell him. Or guys, period. “But I want you. You’re all I think about.”
Dare’s lips curve. “I feel the same way.”
“So I don’t know how you can ask me to wait. I only have the summer, Dare. And then I’m leaving for college.” I pause and my heart flutters. “But if it’s important to you, I’ll wait for a little while. A very little while. But only if you do one thing for me.”
He waits, his dark gaze pensive.
“Give me a reason.”
The words are out before I can re-think them and take them back.
Realization clouds his eyes and before I can blink, I’m in his arms again, pulled to his chest and his mouth is ravaging my own. His lips, strong, yet soft, close over mine, pillaging them, bruising them, caressing them.
Kissing him is everything I thought it would be.
I sigh into his mouth and he inhales it as he inhales me. His hands trace the outline of my shoulder-blades, and then skim my back, down to my hips. They feel just as I’d imagined, strong, yet gentle.
He rocks me into him, and my hips meet a sudden rigidity, his very apparent desire for me. I’m taken aback by the hardness. But then it fuels the burning I feel, the burning that races along my veins, pumping through my heart. I burn because he’s hard for me.
He wants me.
My tongue twirls around his, before I nip at his lips. He groans as I press tighter against him, wedging myself between his legs, stealing his breath. His hands come up, toward my breasts, grazing my hardened nipples with his thumbs. He lingers there, for a moment, turning my points into pebbles as he nuzzles the softness of my neck, his lips blazing a trail.
Finally, he yanks away, his breathing ragged, as though he’s been burned. And I suppose he has. So have I. The chemistry between us is lightning hot.
He holds me at arm’s length as he regains his composure.
Then he looks at me and grins the most devilish grin.
“Did that do the trick?”
His question is light and playful, but the meaning really isn’t.
Because what he’s really asking is… is that enough for now? Is it enough to hold me over? Enough to make me wait?
And the answer is…I don’t know.
I don’t know because if he’s waiting until the worst of my grief is over, he could be waiting a while. Grief is an unpredictable thing, and honestly, I don’t think it ever really goes away. I think we just learn to manage it.
And maybe that’s really what he’s waiting for. For me to manage it… my grief, my life, Finn. There’s a lot there to manage. A lot of obstacles.
But as I stare at him, at the way the light turns his dark eyes to amber, at the way the sunshine bathes him in a golden glow and the connection between us sizzles hot and dangerous, I know one thing.
He’s worth the wait.
Despite our secrets.
Or maybe even because of them.
26
VIGINTI SEX
Finn
I curl up in my room on the floor, where the dust has settled in the corners and the rain once again drenches the sill. I should get up and close the window, but I don’t.
YouCan’tYouCan’tYouCan’t.
The voice shrieks in my ear and I clasp my hands over them, holding tight, trying to drown them out, which of course doesn’t work. Because the voices come from within.
I hear Calla come inside, I hear her singing in her shower, happy with things that I have no knowledge of, yet I do.
I know it’s Dare making her happy.
He gives her hope, when all I give her is despair.
I drop my head into my hands.
Just a little longer.
Justalittlelittlelittlelittle.
She’sNotWorthThePainNotWorthItNotWorthIt.
The voices are insistent, but I know they lie. She is worth it. I can pull this off for her. I have to because she deserves it.
Act normal.
I sit up, brushing my damp hair away from my face.
For a little while longer.
I can do this. I can pretend.
For
A
Little
While
I watch the dust-motes twirl in the dying light, swatting at them before I curl up in a ball.
For Calla.
27
VIGINTI SEPTEM
Calla
I sit curled up in a chair on the side porch. From here, I have the perfect panoramic view of the ocean, the cliffs, and cascading mountainside.
I watch Finn chopping yet more wood, his pale skin glistening with sweat in the morning sun. He didn’t sleep with me last night, so apparently he didn’t have nightmares. But even still, he was out chopping wood when I got up, so he’s clearly bothered by something. He told me once that it soothes his nerves, and lately, he’s chopped piles and piles. So his nerves must be truly rattled.
Stirring my coffee, I take a sip, then take a deep breath of the clean mountain air. My father’s crematorium isn’t burning today, so there is no murky smoke to pollute the air.
“Would you like company?”
Dare’s voice is quiet on the edge of the porch, as he lingers on the top step. My heart leaps a bit, just like it does every time I see him. I nod, with a smile.
“Of course.” I shove the other chair away from the table with my foot. “It’s a perfect morning.”
He agrees as he sits down, a cup of coffee in his own hand.
As he looks out over the mountain, I shove Finn’s journal further down into my pocket. I’d meant to read more of it this morning, since alone time is rare in my house. But I can do it later. I’ll never turn away alone time with Dare, not now that he’s decided we should wait.
Ugh.
I force a smile because that thought makes me grumpy.
“You’re up early,” I point out. He smiles back, his eyes sleepy.
“I didn’t sleep well,” he admits. “So I got up early for a jog. I still feel groggy, so I came up for coffee. Your dad gave me an open invitation to raid your kitchen.”
I think about that for a second. My father is normally not all that social, despite the fact that he has to be for his job. He’s gotten to be a pro at handling grieving people, at being appropriate and kind. But on his off time, he doesn’t typically like to interact.
“He must like you,” I decide.
“You sound surprised,” Dare smiles. “People like me, you know.”
“You said they like you for your step-father’s money,” I recall. “My dad doesn’t know anything about that.”
His lip twitches. “Well, people might actually like me, too. I don’t know. But I think I’m fairly likable.”
Fairly.
I remember the way his hips felt crushed against mine, and I flush.
“You’re pretty when you blush,” Dare says matter-of-factly, as he stares at me over the rim of his coffee mug. I flush more and he grins. “You’re pretty all the time, though,” he amends, which of course lights my cheeks on fire.
“You’re trying to make me blush now,” I accuse. He grins again, not the least bit sorry.
“Am I?” he asks without any chagrin whatsoever.
I nod absently, watching Finn over his shoulder. My brother is attacking the wood with a vengeance.
“Hey,” Dare says, bringing my focus back to him. “I’d like to ask another question.”
I wait.
He smiles.
“Tell me why you haven’t had a real boyfriend.” It’s an instruction, not a question. It, of course, causes me to blush yet again, a wild crimson that spreads like fire to my chest. Dare shakes his head.
“Don’t be embarrassed. I quite like it, really. I’m just curi
ous as to how you’ve remained an undiscovered treasure.”
God, I love the way he talks, so British and so refined.
I shrug. “I’ve always been Funeral Home Girl, remember? No one ever wanted to get close enough to know me. The mere fact that I live in a funeral home with my crazy brother is enough to creep them out.”
“That can’t be true,” Dare argues. “You’re beautiful. Teenage boys never think anything through logically. They think with the crotch of their pants, and their crotch would react to you. Trust me.”
Oh, I do. Especially when I remember how his crotch had reacted to me yesterday. A flood of feminine power and lust spreads through me suddenly, like a wave, and I want to crest on it forever. But I don’t. I turn my attention back to Dare and shrug again.
“I guess they hid it well, then, because I was pretty much ostracized. It’s ok. Don’t worry about me. I’m leaving here, remember? I’ll never have to see them again, and neither will my brother.”
My brother.
I glance toward the woodshed and I’m surprised to find him gone. I scan the trail and the beach, and I don’t see him there, either. Maybe he went to shower.
I look at Dare. “What about you? Have you had any serious girlfriends?”
Surely so.
He shrugs, downplaying any role they might’ve played in his life. “Oh, there have been girls,” he concedes.
I raise an eyebrow. “So you’re a player?”
He laughs. “I plead the fifth.”
I gaze at him. “You’re not American. I’m not sure our constitution applies to you.”
He laughs again.
“What’s your favorite color?” he asks, instead of answering.
“Viridem,” I answer immediately. “Green. It means life. I like that.”
Dare nods. “I like that too. And I like that you know Latin.”
I smile because of our thrust and parry game. “Finn knows Latin,” I correct him. “I’ve just picked a few things up from him.”
“Why does he love Latin so much?”
I shake my head, checking the trail for Finn again, but he’s not there.
“He wants to be a doctor. A Psychologist, really. Latin is the base for medical terminology, so I guess he figures he’ll get a jump start.”
“Smart,” Dare nods.
I have to agree. “Finn is brilliant,” I tell him. “Truly.”
“You’re not just saying that because you’re twins?” Dare teases. I shake my head.
“Nah. He’s way smarter than me.”
“I doubt that,” Dare parries. “You seem rather brilliant yourself.”
“Not smart enough to stay away from you,” I answer without thinking about it. Dare almost rears his head back.
“Where did that come from?” he stares at me, his eyes wide.
I honestly don’t know.
“I guess I’m just frustrated with your ‘wait and see’ mentality,” I mumble. Dare cocks his head.
“Patience isn’t a virtue of yours?”
I shake my head. “Unfortunately, no.”
“But good things come to those who wait,” Dare points out.
“I’m not ketchup,” I thrust back. He looks at me in confusion.
“That was an old ketchup slogan a few years ago.”
He shakes his head. “Americans. You do love your condiments.”
I hear a car crunching in the gravel of the drive, and I glance around Dare to see my father pulling the hearse around.
“Ugh. There’s a funeral today. You might want to vacate the place, if you don’t want to be surrounded by tears.”
Dare looks unconcerned as he takes a slug of coffee.
“Want to give me a tour of Astoria?” he asks casually, standing up and stretching. I’m distracted once again by the flat ribbon of his abdomen that shows as his shirt lifts up. He catches me looking and grins. “My abs will be coming too,” he adds arrogantly.
I roll my eyes.
“Are you trying to bribe me?”
His dark eyes meet mine. “I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll go shirtless if you want.”
My heart couldn’t take that.
It’s suddenly hard to swallow and I need a distraction. And I need to get away from the impending funeral.
“Okay,” I agree. “Let’s go. But only if you drive. With a shirt on.”
“Done,” he says triumphantly.
Only I’m the triumphant one a few minutes later as I wrap my arms around his waist and we glide down the mountain. The front of my body is pressed to his back, and we fit like perfectly placed puzzle pieces.
I take him to my favorite coffee shop first, where we sit outside and sip at espresso for a bit. We’re sitting in the shade and the morning breeze is actually chilly, so when Dare notices my shiver, he lays his arm around the back of my chair and I snuggle into his arm.
I want to stay like this for the rest of the day, or perhaps even forever, but within twenty minutes, Dare stares down at me.
“What next, tour guide?”
I sigh.
“You’re a punishing task-master.”
But with my arms wrapped around him again on the back of his bike, I can hardly call it punishment.
“I want to see where you went to school,” he calls back to me over the wind. So I direct him to Astoria High. He pulls up in front, and I only wish that my old classmates were here to witness Calla Price riding on the back of Dare DuBray’s motorcycle. Victory would be mine, because he’s leaps and bounds sexier than any of them could ever dream of being.
But it’s summer, so no one is here to see.
Dare steps away from the bike and pulls his helmet off, the breeze ruffling his dark hair. He’s absurdly handsome as he appraises the school, his hand shielding his eyes from the sun.
“So this is the fabled place of torment?”
I nod. “Unfortunately.”
Dare glances at me. “It’s just a building, Calla. It can’t hurt you.”
“The people inside can,” I point out, the scars of their words imprinted in my memory. “Words can harm people every bit as much as a weapon.”
He nods. “I know. But what happens as you get older, is that you realize that the people in high school were never very important to you in the first place. They’re just stupid kids who don’t know anything. You’ll go on and do great things, and they’ll stay here in this little town and do nothing. You’ll win.”
I stare at him. “And how exactly do you know that?”
He shrugs. “It’s just math. I read a study once that said over half of the population will never move more than twenty miles from their hometown. There’s not a lot of brilliant opportunity here, I’m guessing. So your classmates who stay will never save the world or anything.”
“And I will?” my voice is sharp.
Dare doesn’t flinch. “You’ll change someone’s world. I am positive of that.”
My nether regions flood with warmth because I think he means himself. But then my blood turns ice cold with a realization. If I change anyone’s world, it will be Finn’s, so I doubt I’ll have time to change Dare’s too. I’m not talented enough to do both.
I’m feeling dejected about that as I turn around and gaze at the faded red bricks of my school, at the doors that I dreaded walking through every morning for four years.
I’m startled when the principal walks through them now.
He’s startled to see me, too.
“Ms. Price,” he says quickly, and crosses the walk toward me. I’m not used to seeing him in casual clothes, so his shorts and polo shirt throw me off.
“Hi Mr. Payne.” The irony of his name is not lost on me.
“How are you doing?” he asks, his tone both warm and nervous. I get it. No one knows what to say to someone who has lost a loved one. It’s a hard situation. “You’ve been in my thoughts a lot lately, Calla. My wife has asked me several times if I know how you’re doing.”
“I’m fine,
” I lie. “We’re hanging in there.”
“And your father?” he asks.
“He’s doing as well as can be expected,” I tell him. “I’ll tell him you asked about him.”
“Well, this is a small community, Calla. Everyone hated to hear of your loss. If you need anything, for college or for anything else, you just let me know.”
I nod and he hurries away to his car as though he can’t get away from me fast enough.
“Ugh,” I shake my head. “He’s all about helping now, but he never raised one finger when Finn kept getting shoved into lockers our freshman year by the football team. Or when they de-pants him our junior year. Or all of the times in between. And he can’t even bring himself to directly ask about him now. They think he’s crazy and not worth their time. It disgusts me. This whole town disgusts me.”
I turn away for the bike and Dare grabs my arm, forcing me to pause.
“I understand your anger, Calla. But do me a favor, ok? One of the most beautiful things about you is your spirit. It’s refreshing… to me, and to anyone else who sees it. So don’t let anything make you ugly, ok?”
His words are so honest that they freeze me in my tracks, making me realize something. I can’t let them make me as ugly as they are. I nod slowly.
“You’re right, I guess. I can’t fix their small minds. So I can’t let it affect me.”
Dare nods. “Exactly. Wanna get out of here?”
“Yes.” My answer is immediate.
We get back on his bike and tear off down the road, and I try very hard to leave my bitterness back at the school where it belongs.
We drive all the way to Cannon Beach on a seaside road. We hike down to Haystack Rock and stare at the ocean as we lean against the rocks. We marvel at how big it is, while we’re so small.
On the horizon, a sailboat glides across the water, it’s white sails billowing into the sky like clouds.
We both stare at it for a while, until it disappears from sight. Finally, Dare turns to me.
“After my mom died, someone gave me a poem to read, and it actually helped.”
I stare at him, unconvinced. “A poem?”
He smirks. “I know. But yeah, it did. It was about a ship and how the ship doesn’t lose it’s value or it’s usefulness or its being simply because it sails away out of sight. It’s still as large and valuable, and it still exists, even though we can’t see it. So, in a way, dying is like a ship that sails away for another destination.”