Dear Diary (5 page)

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Authors: Nancy Bush

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Dear Diary
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“Hey, Shard!” a male voice yelled above the music. “Jenny called. Twice. She’s gonna be here in ten.”

Rory stepped uneasily from her car, slinging her messenger bag over her shoulder. Nick was just finishing locking his bike to the rail that ran around the front porch.

“Yo, Nick? Ya hear me?”

“I heard you,” Nick responded.

The voice belonged to a blond guy hanging out of an upstairs window. He was shirtless even though the temperature wasn’t even sixty degrees. The male is a strange animal, she decided with a shake of her head.

“Who’s Jenny, or should I even ask?” Rory inquired as Nick walked back to her.

“Jenny Sumpter.”

“Our Jenny Sumpter?” Her jaw dropped. “From Piper Point? She goes here?”

“Uh-huh. Have you got anything else? Like an overnight bag or something?”

She shook her head though there was a bag in the trunk along with her sleeping bag. “You’re dating Jenny Sumpter?”

“Mmm-hmm. You sure you didn’t bring anything else?”

“Nope.”

“You really drove almost all the way across the state just to say hello? That’s crazy stuff.”

“I could say the same of you. Did U-Dub run out of women or something? Jenny Sumpter? Piper Point’s cheerleader extraordinaire? Even you didn’t much like her in high school.”

“Yes, I did.”

“No. You didn’t.”

“Well, I like her okay now.” He sent her a killer smile.

Rory felt the wattage from that smile and tried not to let it affect her. Her mind went back to Ryan for a moment and she felt a ripple of pain. “You can’t help yourself, can you? Where there’s a woman, there’s a conquest.”

“What?” He slid her a look as they headed for the front door. “I’m more discriminating than you give me credit for.”

“Oh, sure.”

“I am,” he insisted. “You don’t know everything about me, even though you think you do.”

Rory could have argued the point, but she didn’t. She merely nodded. Nick glared at her in mock anger as they walked inside the house. It smelled musty, as if mildew had taken over in a big way, and the front hall was dusty with footprints. The furniture was ripped and worn; garage sale rejects.

“Well?” Nick asked.

“Nice.”

He laughed.

Around the corner to the kitchen, Rory could see another male body in silhouette. He moved from the window to stand in the archway, his dark eyes assessing Rory in unabashed head to toe appraisal.

“What have we here, Shard?” he asked, grinning hugely. “Naughty, naughty. What will Jenny say?”

“Drop dead, J.D.,” Nick answered without heat.

J.D. remained very much alive, and Rory, with an inward grimace, couldn’t help remembering her own appearance. She’d tossed on a pair of ripped jeans, probably in desperate need of a trip to the wash, and a gray pullover sweatshirt. Her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail she’d scarcely looked at when she’d raced out. She’d run away from the evidence of Ryan’s last indiscretion without even bothering to think about what she looked like.

She’d simply wanted to escape.

Footsteps clattered on the steps. Nick’s shirtless blond roommate appeared, thrusting his arms through the sleeves of a wrinkled shirt. He gazed curiously at Rory.

“Rory, this is Kevin,” Nick introduced. “And that’s J.D. Guys, this is Rory Camden. My
friend.”

“So you’re Rory.” Kevin’s freckled, almost homely, face broke into a grin. “Here we thought you were a figment of Nick’s imagination. We heard a lot about you, but we didn’t really believe you existed.”

“She doesn’t,” Nick warned.

“You didn’t tell us she was hot,” said J.D.

Rory, who rarely ever blushed, felt heat invade her face. A by-product of Ryan’s desertion, she thought miserably, struggling to regain the cool control that had become her trademark throughout high school and the ugly nastiness of her parents’ divorce.

Another car pulled into the drive, its horn honking loud and long. Rory could see at least three guys jammed inside the tiny Prius. “What is this place, a commune?” she asked.

“Just some more Sig Eps.” Nick shrugged. “They don’t all live here.”

“Coulda fooled me. Looks like you’re about to stage a revival meeting.”

“Ha, ha. Come on, I’ll show you my room.”

“Whoa,” J.D. said on a long whistle, his eyes alive with mischief. “Your room, Mr. Shard?”

To Rory’s surprise, Nick turned so swiftly she nearly tripped on the bottom step and slammed into his broad chest. He didn’t say a word, just stared at J.D. in a way that made Rory’s stomach clench apprehensively.

If J.D. got the message, he didn’t show it, but Rory’s blood turned to ice at the look of pure challenge she could see in Nick’s eyes. She’d almost forgotten the attractive blue streaks in his gray eyes, but she saw them now as his gaze bored into J.D.

“Come on, Rory,” he said, turning back to the stairs. “Before blood is shed.”

She quickly hurried after him, glancing back down at J.D. as they rounded the landing. “You don’t have to take care of me, Nick,” she said in an undertone. “I’m twenty-one. I can even legally drink.”

“J.D. doesn’t get the message unless you hit him over the head with a two-by-four. Seriously, don’t even be friendly to him, Rory, or he’ll think you want to sleep with him.”

She almost laughed at Nick’s proprietary tone. He was worse than a big brother. But a part of her responded to the deep caring that went along with it‌—‌the same part that wanted to curl up in his arms and cry her eyes out over Ryan.

“I’ll remember,” she said dryly.

Nick’s room was at the end of the hall. A single bed was pressed against the north wall, a chest of drawers against the south. A round straw mat covered the hardwood floor almost wall to wall, and a crude bookshelf and desk were the only other pieces of furniture. A fish tank glowed with green light.

Rory walked straight over to the aquarium. She felt out of place, and why not? She hadn’t seen enough of Nick these last few years to call him more than an old acquaintance, and she didn’t know any of his friends. Except Jenny Sumpter. “Tropical fish, huh?” she said, bending down to look at the exotically colored tetras, angel fish and others.

“My ex-roommate’s passion. I inherited them when he graduated.”

“If they’re his passion, why didn’t he take them with him?”

“They were just his latest passion. That’s how he was. Fell in love, fell out of love.” Nick lightly tapped the glass with his fingers, and the fish instantly swam his way. “They’re an easy pet,” he said, unscrewing the lid from a small bottle of fish food. “Here.” He handed the bottle to Rory. “Just put a little bit on top of the water.”

She sprinkled food on the surface. So quick she almost didn’t see it, several fish darted upward, then back down to safer waters. “How do you like cleaning the tank?”

“Pain in the ass. But it gives me an excuse to get away when things downstairs start to get too much.”

She glanced sideways at him. His gaze was fixed on the fish tank, his expression serious. “What do you mean?”

“J.D. and Kevin and the others. Sometimes they get going on something and I need a reason to escape.” He shrugged. “How about you?”

“What about me?”

“Come on, Rory. This is Nick you’re talking to, remember? I’ve asked you to come here a thousand times, and now suddenly you’re here within twenty-four hours of our last conversation.”

“Can’t an old friend just show up without a reason?”

“No.” He shook his head and half-laughed. “That’s not the way it works.”

Rory walked to the center of the room, away from Nick. At some level she’d thought she could throw herself in his arms and have Nick take away all the hurt. He was her big brother, her friend, her hero. A part of her wanted him to gallop on a white charger all the way to Washington State, grab Ryan by the throat and shake the life out of him.

But another part of her wanted to cry. Only she hated crying and refused to indulge in it. “I’m just having a tough time at school,” she said. “It’s been one of those terms.”

“Lame excuse, but if you don’t want to talk, okay.” He suddenly took two steps to meet her, hugging her so fiercely that it squeezed the breath from Rory’s lungs. Her eyes widened in surprise. “I’m glad you’re here.”

She hadn’t hugged Nick since the night he’d kissed her at the Movie Haus. She’d hardly even touched him. That just wasn’t their relationship. Now, though, she felt the unmistakable strength in the arms that surrounded her. The muscles of his back moved like a liquid beneath her rigid fingers. His thighs brushed hers. She could smell his skin, clean and slightly tangy. Her breasts were pressed to his chest. His breathing filled her ears. The hair on the back of his neck lay smooth and silky.

A horn blared outside, long and shrill. Nick inhaled sharply and turned, letting go of Rory in one quick movement that wasn’t meant to repel but did. She was too bemused to even think of a clever remark. Belatedly she realized that although the embrace had knocked the stuffing from her, Nick must not feel the same.

“It’s Jenny,” he said. A smile spread across his face as he watched from the window. He lifted a hand in greeting. “About time she got here.”

Dinner was pizza delivered from the Pizza Man, a personal friend of Nick and his buddies, Rory learned, as a day hardly passed without someone ordering out, apparently.

She ate one slice though her stomach was in such knots she could scarcely swallow. What in God’s name was she doing here? She had a ton of work at school, and Ryan, though still a gaping wound, was soon going to be just another memory if it killed her.

The beanbag chair Rory had found in the corner of the living room provided a great way to hide. She ate her pizza in near anonymity. More co-eds had dropped by during the course of the evening. Friends of Nick or J.D. or Kevin. Since Nick’s attention was on Jenny, no one paid any attention to Rory. Good. She wanted to be forgotten.

Glancing around the room, Rory grimaced. She’d never even tried once to fix her hair or makeup the way these girls did. Good God, it looked as if they spent weeks getting ready just to go to the grocery store. And as far as clothes went, well, who had that kind of money? Rory had used every dime she’d earned from working to pay for her education.

But Ryan hadn’t seemed to care, she remembered ruefully. He’d noticed her in a crowd, had actually picked her out from among a group of much prettier girls. Rory had been extremely flattered. Stupidly so. She’d responded to his attention like the love starved woman she was. She’d wanted someone to care for her, to love and cherish her.

Their relationship had started slowly. Rory, whose only memorable kiss had been from Nick, had been so nervous the first time Ryan’s lips brushed across hers that her hands sweated. Luckily, Ryan had taken his time. He hadn’t pressured her. She’d thought him incredibly understanding. Here, finally, was someone who wanted to know
her
, the real Rory Camden. He wasn’t in an awful rush to get her into bed. He wasn’t looking for a one night stand. He’d wanted something meaningful, something lasting, just as she did.

She hadn’t known she was being played by a master.

Over the course of several blind, beautiful months, D-Day had finally arrived. Ryan wanted to sleep with her. Certain she was in love, Rory agreed, but she had to fight back the fear of intimacy that plagued her.

It turned out okay. No bells rang and a choir didn’t break into song, but then she was inexperienced and embarrassed and so, what could she expect? It didn’t matter anyway. She was in love. So in love that all her defense mechanisms were dismantled, useless, forgotten.

Unaware that she was setting herself up for the biggest fall of her life, Rory let herself be swept away on a wave of passion and adventure. It never occurred to her to ask why Ryan had chosen her. Not after that first night. It also never occurred to her to ask him what he did on the evenings he didn’t spend with her.

She found out slowly. The first clue was a paper she accidentally discovered within the pages of his economics book. Caroline, it said, followed by a number encircled with a heart. Rory hadn’t asked. But she’d kept the note.

Then one afternoon Rory received a knock on her apartment door. A young woman she’d never met before stood there. She introduced herself as Diane. It turned out that Diane had just found out about Rory and she was fulminating with rage. She told Rory everything about Ryan, every little horrible thing, much, much more than Rory had wanted to hear.

Surfacing from her romantic fantasy had been terrible. She’d fought it like a drug addict who refused help; she’d only wanted the feeling to go on and on. But in the end, her own innate sense of self-worth was what saved her. No matter how much she might’ve wanted to, she couldn’t fool herself for long. When Ryan came by that night, Rory had refused to let him inside. She told him about meeting Diane. She told him what she thought of him. She told him it was over. He’d listened without emotion, and she realized later that he didn’t even really care.

That had been two weeks ago, but then two days ago she ran into him on campus. He was with a beautiful brunette girl with a model’s body. Rory had coldly ignored him, hoping he and his girl didn’t notice her. But he did, and his vanity finally got to him because as she passed by he made a crack about “making it with a virgin” and how glad he was that said virgin had “filled that gap in his education.” Rory had made it all the way back to her apartment before she’d started to shake.

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