Drowning in You (10 page)

“
Can we not
talk about me?”

“
Oh…‘kay?”

He breezes his fingers at the
ends of my hair hanging over my shoulder. Either it’s me or he’s
using my hair to tug me closer. Maybe it’s me. Thoughts of my knees
giving out fill my mind. Thoughts of him tightening his fist in my
hair and tipping my chin to the sky while he trails a flutter of
kisses down my neck.

It sounds unhealthy when it
would be better if we kept our contact limited. So unhealthy I
can’t help but feel flustered at those thoughts.

“
You shouldn’t
have to hear about me,” he says, head drooped.

“
Hey.” I wait
for him to meet my gaze. “I know.”

“
I
swear.”

“
No,
Dex.”

“
I didn’t. I
swear. Oh, shit,” he continues.

“
Dex.” I let
go of his fingers and steady him by putting my hands on his firm
shoulders. His eyes flare with surprise, but in a good way because
his gaze seems to caress my face. That, and I can feel something
through his shirt, in his skin, thumping away. “I know it
wasn’t
your
fault.”

I am surprised as much as he is
considering it wasn’t long ago I thought the opposite. But there’s
no way I can sense a hint of a criminal in this guy.

He tears away
from me, stomping one, two, three steps, then halting and spinning
to face me again. “Don’t.” He points a finger at my face, his
expression full of sheer rage. “Don’t you dare forgive me. I
was
there
. I was
controlling the lift—”

I shake my head and step
forward. He stays put.

“
I should have
asked for an extra safety check. Those children. Those
parents.
Your
parents.”

Another step.

“
What’s wrong
with you? I operated that ski lift, Charz. It was my job to make
sure those two dozen people had the time of their lives and they
had a time of their lives that’ll forever be fucked up. Get it yet?
Me. Me, me, me. Your mom, your dad, all those other strangers hurt
and their holidays ruined. All because of me. Please stop acting
like this, all ‘forgiving’ because it fucking hurts.”

He’s rigid by the time I’m
close enough to wrap my arms around him. The moment I catch him in
my embrace he stops, but his shoulders are still heaving with
exertion. With my ear to his chest, I can hear how loud the rage is
in his lungs as he inhales and exhales. His breath, rapid and hot,
touches the edges of my ear and heat flushes down my body in
response.

What Dexter didn’t say, but
what his tone pierced my heart with, was hurt, resolution. Dexter
didn’t do it. I think deep down I’ve known all along. But through
his words and his voice and his rigid body, there’s a helpless
defensiveness there that I picked up on since we came here. It’s
the consuming guilt that draws me to him. Maybe we aren’t so
different.

It’s only for a moment, but he
clutches my waist with one hand and presses my head tightly to his
chest, holding me under him with his chin on my head.

“
Charz.”

My name on his lips. I’m on his
lips.

I’ve heard
rumors about him, too, about him with girls, and not just with
Raych. That had been the only thing holding me back if he ever were
to want me.
Could Dexter hurt me too?
Maybe I wouldn’t be just another girl.
But
that’s probably wishful thinking. Dex isn’t known for
committing.

He pries me from his chest and
drops his hand from the back of my head, tracing my ear, along my
jawline. He snatches his fingers a moment before they press into my
lip.

“
Please,
Charz. Don’t make this hard.”

Hard? He’s
worried about me complicating his situation with Raych? Oh.
Oh.
Of course. I pull
away from his hands altogether feeling cold and small with no one
holding me. I can’t be that girl who breaks up his
relationship.

“
I don’t mean
to…” I step away. “Please don’t tell her. I’m sorry.”

“
What?” His
face is pure shock. His eyes pop too wide, his lower lip slack.
Then something registers and he takes my chin. Just like my dad
does. I feel safe like this, despite Dex’s conflicting
actions.

“
Charz,” he
says. “I mean, Charlee? I’m not sure if I’m giving you the wrong
signal, but there is no ‘you and me’. There can’t be. There’s stuff
you don’t know.” He mumbles something I’m sure is a cuss and runs
his hand through his hair, looking so vulnerable, I want to try to
forget how raw and stinging my heart is. “Just keep an eye on your
dad.”

My dad? What does my dad have
to do with a future between Dex and I? That’s when any competition
with Raych is squashed into nonexistence.

And when my heart plummets.

Dex is still looking at me when
I realize this. His words are inflected with so much more than he’s
simply stated, and like the gory details of Dad’s demise, I cannot
hear any more if something is going on. Since forever I’ve stayed
out of mess and gossip.

I give him a curt nod and tell
him he should get back to work.

10. Sensuality and Sizzling
Secrets

Dexter

I didn’t expect Charz to be at
KFC but she’s here ordering some fries.

“
No chicken?”
I ask, tapping her shoulder.

WTF,
Dexter?
Wasn’t I not talking to her unless
necessary and/or required? One whiff of that sweet candy scent and
that shampoo and my dick stirred. I have to stop thinking with that
fucker.

She whirls around. Some of her
hair sticks to her lips, but she stands half-turned first with
surprise, and then with the biggest damn smile I’ve ever seen. I
step forward and gently pull her hair from the gloss on her
lips.

She blushes
after I pull my finger back, tucks her hair behind her ear, which
makes her look so
her
it’s hard to just stand here and not take her in my arms. “Um,
thank you. You’re eating here?”

I drop my eyes and search the
floor. For what? I’m not sure. It occurs to me she must feel as
awkward as I do because why else would I be waiting in line to
order food at KFC? Of course it’s to eat food. I take another
moment to settle the pounding in my chest but my nerves remain
afire anyway.

The girl behind the register
hands Charz her bag and she waits by my side while I order.

“
I was picking
up some fries for dinner but I’d like to ask you something if
you’ve got time.”

I manage to nod though it feels
as if everything—including my head—is cemented in place. What if
she doesn’t want to see me again? I know what I need and what I
want, but they’re two different things.

I wait for my chicken burger.
Normally I wait forever because this joint has crap service but I
have my burger too soon and all too quickly I’m holding out my hand
for Charz to slide into the booth before me. I slip in next to her
and clutch the burger wrapping with both hands so the shaking will
be less obvious.

This time the shaking has
nothing to do with my diabetes, though. It’s fear snaking in my
blood.

“
Can I ask you
a personal question, Dex?”

My heart shudders twice. Once
at “personal question” and again at my name. Her tone sounds like
the only thing she could say is bad news. It makes me want to
sprint out of here.

“
Sure.”

“
Do you like
me?”

The bit of the chicken burger
I’ve shoved in my mouth almost flies out over the table but I get
my palm clamped on top of my mouth in time, hold up my finger in a
‘hang on a sec’ gesture, and swallow.

Charz’s eyes drop. She shakes
her head. She whispers something that sounds like “don’t worry” as
she looks away, her face hidden behind her long hair. Then it hits
me. She thinks I hate her or that she’s ugly. Instead of tapping
her shoulder, touching her hand or saying something crappy again, I
slip my foot from my canvas shoe and stroke the underside of her
foot. It happens automatically. Probably spurred by me imagining
her feet snuggled with mine.

Feeling me, she starts, but
takes a moment to tuck away her hair and drag her eyes back to the
table. She pushes her foot forward, an invite for me.

I use my toe to brush the top
of her foot this time, and continue up her calf. I can feel her
shudder, which sends a wave of passion burning between my legs.

Looking up, she tilts her head,
her eyes studying me. Neither of us speaks; it seems natural. I’m
worried I’ll say the wrong thing. Whether I’m hurting her by being
a dick or embarrassing myself, I never manage to do anything normal
around her. She messes with my head in every way. I couldn’t
imagine I’d mean anything to her, but maybe she’s awkward because
of me. Maybe words will ruin this moment.

I’m feeling Charlee May’s foot
and up her leg, which blows my mind. All these years and
finally…

I gulp and force away thoughts
that would otherwise cause an embarrassing moment if I had to stand
up. I don’t want to ruin it, so I meet her eyes and can’t help but
smile just a little bit and continue up to the sensitive skin
behind her knee and then all the way back down. She shudders again,
and I have to squeeze my thighs together.

Face glowing, her jaw drops and
I’m buzzing. I feel like maybe the huge gulf between us might be
shrinking a little.

But she doesn’t say anything.
Her look disappears a second before I feel the hot breath in my ear
and a voice yell, “Fucking murderer!”

I jump back and clamp a hand to
the side of my head, sliding my shoe back on. My ear’s ringing.

“
Robby.”

His nose is screwed up and he
hikes up a snort, sounding like he’s trying to act pissed and
tough.

“
How does it
feel? You and that Dexter on TV aren’t so different after
all.”

Not taking
the bait, Robby
, I think, glancing at Ben,
my other “friend” who’s standing there, too.

“
Come on,”
Robby says. His tone full of rage, he spits out, “Come on, what do
you have to say?”

“
Not enough
blood on your hands? You have to get the daughter too, huh?” Ben
adds. He peers over my shoulder. “Sweetheart, you don—” but I
launch my fist into his jaw and he falls flat as do the words I
make sure Charz doesn’t hear.

I turn my eyes briefly to her.
She’s still and pale and wordless.

Bringing my attention back to
Robby, I push his chest with the heels of my palms but the dickhead
keeps coming. I grab him by the collar and launch him backward as
Robby stands, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. He licks
it up like an insane bad guy from an action movie.

Before I have
to knock him down again, some teenager in a KFC uniform and an
older man drag the two back. Another attempts to hold me down, but
I flick off his hand, give him a look that tells him
touch me again
and say,
“We were just leaving.”

Every pair of eyes are on us as
I pick up Charz’s bag of fries and lead us out of the restaurant’s
side exit, my burger abandoned on the table.

As I open the door I glance
back. Robby is still restrained, his eyes locked on me, and draws a
line across his neck with his finger. Charz is dazed, only moving
forward because my hand is guiding her.

We stop a short distance away,
behind a brick wall. There’s a garbage bin at the end of the alley,
and a climbing jasmine tree along the fence. Other than that it’s
deserted.

“
Charz,” I
say, my hand still at the small of her back as if I can’t let go of
her yet, in case Robby or Ben suddenly appear. “That’s why I act
like I do with us,” I add. “You have no idea what some people want
to do to me.”

It’s
everything I want to keep away from her. It’s my fault her mom is
dead and her dad is balancing between life and death. The last
thing she needs is to be reminded of this and have the fact
I
did that to them rubbed
in her face.

She stares, doesn’t reply right
away. All I understand from her silence is she doesn’t agree. With
what—how I’m treated, how I act—I don’t know.

She throws her hands up in
surrender. “I shouldn’t have asked about the ‘liking’ thing. How
silly of me.” She turns to walk away.

“
Hey,” I
call.

She stops and stares at me.

“
Your
dinner.”

It’s much
easier to say that than what’s really on my mind. I hold out her
bag. I can’t feel heat from it anymore so I’ve left her with a
horrible image of me murdering her parents
and
soggy KFC fries for dinner.
That’s a new low, even for me.

“
Oh.”

She trudges up to me to take
the bag I’m holding out. As she grabs the bag, our fingers brush.
She blinks and bites her lip, looking at me through batting
eyelashes and it messes up my insides because I want to hold her
and protect her and fuck her all at the same time.

I hold my breath, leaving my
finger on hers a moment too long because I’m selfish and I need her
all over me, then shove my hands in my pockets.

“
This is for
you, Charz,” I say, motioning in the direction of the KFC joint,
referring to what happened. “It’s all to protect you from getting
involved in that stuff with me.”