Facade (14 page)

I don’t even realize I’m smiling until he says, “There is it. Just one touch. Don’t ever lose that, Little Ghost.” And with that, he’s gone. I watch the door long after he’s walked away. I think about what Maddox said. Think about last night, Adrian’s caresses, his words. And the mask that started to slip away. The same mask he wore when he told me good-bye. I want to show him how beautiful he is without it. Maddox is wrong. He has to be. And I’m not letting Adrian run away anymore either.

I can’t believe I’m here. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing at this place. I never come to Ash’s grave. Can’t fucking do it, but instead of going home after leaving Delaney’s house, I just drove. The whole time I told myself this wasn’t where I was going, but I’m here, so it’s only another lie to add to the million I tell myself every day.

My weak ass still can’t get out of the car. My eyes burn and not from getting hit in one of them. My mind rides the smoke to the little boy in the grave. The one who loved me.
Me
. He didn’t look at me like he wished I was man enough to save him like Mom did. Didn’t look at me with disgust like Dad. Didn’t know he needed to save me like Angel. He believed in me for no other reason than the fact that I was me.

And I’d shattered that to fucking pieces. Didn’t take it seriously. I cared too much about living my own life for the first time and waiting for my friends and
partying
, like I do now, to protect him.

Get out of the car, get out of the car, get out of the car.

I can’t even make myself do that. So instead I read my stupid fucking book like I always do. Remember reading to him like he even knew what the hell
The Count
even was. Another way I screwed up with him. Why the hell would I read a book like that to a kid? Didn’t matter that I cherry-picked what I read. I still did it.

When it’s painfully obvious I’ve failed him again, I start my car and drive back home. Angel’s birthday is coming up. I wonder what she’s doing. If she’ll be with whoever that guy was at the cemetery with her. I know that as much as Delaney’s brother pissed me off this morning, I would have done the same thing if some bastard had been with Angel. That’s what family does—they protect. He’s doing a hell of a lot better than I do. It’s good he chased me out of there today. I don’t need to let myself get close to a girl with problems. I have my own and I’m doing a shitty job of taking care of them.

Once I get home, I put the water in the shower as hot as I can handle it, letting myself stand under the spray until cold starts to take over. My body aches from her brother shoving me into the wall. Tiredness lives in my bones now, swims in the marrow, and I can’t ever seem to get it out of my system.

My cell rings, Colt’s number lighting up, but I don’t answer it. I put money on it being Cheyenne and I don’t want to play the friend game with her today. Don’t want to remember seeing the wheels turn in her head or the hope in her voice that someone’s going to come along and save me the way she did Colt. He wanted to be saved. I don’t.

When knocking comes from my door hours later, I almost ignore that, too, but something about the gentle
rap, rap, rap
lulls me, calls to me until I stand up, walk over, and jerk the door open.

My eyes travel up from the pink, fluffy jacket to Delaney’s face with the unsure smile and eyes she’s trying to shield from me. There’s nothing there. Not the pain or the desire, and I think about the words going through her head right now. Wonder if she’s trying to talk herself out of her thoughts, hoping not to show them to me.

And as much as I don’t like to admit it, as much as I want to bury this part of myself, deeper than the earth covering Ashton, I can’t. I’m glad she’s here. Glad she came because I wanted to see her and I wouldn’t have gone to her. But it’s not my fault she came to me. When I wanted to have her, to take her, that was different. It’s not like I don’t still want that. Want to swallow all those little cries of pleasure. Taste the sweetness she offered to me last night. There’s a part of me that feels a little less alone right now and alone is all I’ve known for so long.

“It’s cold out here. Think you could let me in?” she asks.

“I could.” My arms cross and I slip back into my façade. “What are you doing for me if I do?”

Instead of answering, her hand moves toward my face. “Your eye…”

“Eh.” I step back and open the door. “It’s not like I’ve never been hit before. My dad was an even better shot than your brother.”

“Adrian…”

“Don’t. It happened, can’t change it. There’s no point in pretending words will make it go away.” I close the door behind her. Delaney walks into the room but doesn’t sit down. I go right back to where I was on the couch, putting my arm on the back as springs creak under the cushion.

“Maddox can be a jerk, but you have to admit, you didn’t do much to plead your case. You made it sound like more happened than it did. You’re lucky he didn’t do more, and honestly, I don’t really appreciate it either.”

She crosses her arms, and Christ, as much as I don’t want to, I smile. She looks like a marshmallow, her arms puffed up because of her jacket. “Come here.” When she raises an eyebrow at me, I say, “Please.”

Delaney walks over and stands between my legs.

“Just last night I was standing in front of you this way.”

“I remember.” Her cheeks squeeze in and I think she’s trying to hide a smile. Sitting forward, I reach for the zipper on her jacket. A sharp gasp slips past her lips.

“Don’t worry, Little Ghost. I’m only taking your jacket off.” The name came out when I was talking to her last night, but it fits her more than Casper really did. It feels like it’s her, even though I don’t think I should be giving her any kind of name like that. I don’t need to be close to her. I shouldn’t be close to anyone.

We both study the teeth of her zipper pulling apart. She’s wearing a sweater, but it’s short, showing me a sliver of her stomach. She’s thin, but soft, too, little dips and valleys that I remember exploring. After pulling the jacket off, I toss it to the couch. I’m hard already but try and stamp it down. As much as I want her, I don’t think she’s here for that right now. “What’s going on?”

She fidgets, transfers her weight from her right foot to her left, showing me her nerves and that she knows what I’m asking.

When she doesn’t answer, I again say, “Come here.”

“I’m here,” tumbles from those cherry-red lips.

“Not close enough.” I tell myself it’s because I want to touch her. She’s gorgeous and feminine, and what guy doesn’t want to get close to that, but there’s more. I’m hoping when we’re closer, she can’t keep her secrets from me. Can’t cover the windows into her soul.

I take her hand and give it a gentle pull. It’s all I need and she’s climbing on my lap, straddling me. My cock’s nuzzled right between her legs and I know she feels it, feels how much I want her, and fuck if her heat doesn’t seep right through me. My hands hold her hips and I wish we were both bare. Wish we were skin to skin because bodies don’t lie the same way mouths do.

“What are you doing?” She turns her head. Every time she does, I move mine the same way, not letting her escape. Funny how I don’t want her to retreat, how I want to be inside her and know everything that lives there, though I know there’s so much of me she’ll never see. So much I’ll never show her.

“Your eyes don’t lie. Even when this”—I rub my thumb across her bottom lip—“doesn’t want to talk, your eyes do.”

“Why is it fair that you get to know what’s going on inside me if I don’t know about you?” She doesn’t shield her face from me this time, like she wants me to know she’s serious.

“It’s not fair… but…” The words I want to say won’t leave my lips.

“Maybe you will… be able to.”

“What are you doing here?” I should tell her I’m glad she came. I am, and it makes me feel like an asshole grilling her like this.

Delaney shrugs, playing at a nonchalance I don’t think she feels. “I work tonight… I wanted to make sure you were still coming. You know… to keep me safe.”

“Your brother seems to like protecting you.” My hands squeeze her hips and I pull her a little closer.

“I don’t want him to protect me.”

With that, I fuse my mouth over hers. Her arms wrap around my neck. Each time she moves, my cock jumps at the feel of her moving against it. I don’t want to want her this much. I don’t know why I do, but instead of pulling away, I kiss her deeper. Suck her tongue into my mouth and move my hips with hers.

Christ, my whole body is on edge because of her and I don’t know what I’m feeling. “I should tell you to leave,” I say against the skin of her neck. “I need you to leave.” But I don’t stop kissing. I take her earlobe into my mouth and suck it gently before nipping it with my teeth.

Laney’s head drops back, giving me more room to explore. “I should go. I didn’t mean for us to end up this way again.”

My hands move to the curve of her ass. I grip her, go to turn her, when her cell rings from the couch beside us. Delaney stiffens, and I know the moment is over.

“I have to get that. It could be my mom.” She scrambles off my lap, making it feel empty, the way I should.

I can tell by the conversation it’s not her mom. It’s a quick call but enough to part the lust in my brain.

“I have to go,” she says reluctantly.

“I’ll be there tonight,” I tell her, not sure how I feel having said it.

“Okay. Thanks.” She stands and pulls her jacket back on. Grabs her hat and slides it into place next.

She gives me a quick gaze before walking to the door.

“Hey,” I say when she’s halfway out. She turns and looks at me, really looks this time. “I’m glad you came.”

A smile.

And then she’s gone.

* * *

“We are
so
slow tonight.”

I look up at Delaney as she leans against the bench seat across from me. I’ve been at the diner for the past few hours. I ate pancakes and watched as she cleaned every table twice.

“I’ve noticed.” I close
The Count
and set it on the bench next to me. I almost try to hide it, but it doesn’t matter. She knows I read it and I’m not sure why I don’t feel the need to pretend I don’t anymore. “And your cook hasn’t come out of the kitchen once to check on you. That pisses me off.”

It’s my excuse for being here. What if something happens? What if the assholes come back? But I also know that’s exactly what it is. An excuse for being in the one place I’ve felt sane in a long time. I don’t want to consider why that is.

“He knows you’re here.”

I let those words sink in. Let them feel good when they shouldn’t. They might not know it, but I do a shitty job of protecting people.

“Want to sneak in the bathroom with me?” I tease.

She rolls her eyes. “Not going to happen.”

“Sit with me.” I nod my head across the table. Delaney looks around as though she needs to make sure the empty diner didn’t suddenly fill up with people while she wasn’t looking. When she’s sure it’s okay, she sits down, watching me. Both of my elbows rest on the table and I hold my hands out, palms up. She studies me for only a second before her palms rest on mine.

We hold each other, as though neither of our eyes can divert away. Questions dance in her eyes. I let myself smirk before I jerk my good hand out from under hers and lightly smack the top of it.

“Oh my God. You’re a cheater. You didn’t tell me we were playing!”

“Wasn’t it obvious?”

She laughs. It’s soft, but you can tell nothing’s more real. It starts in her stomach and builds until it rolls out of her mouth. I want to catch it, to do the same thing.

“Considering I haven’t played the slap game since I was twelve, no.” Another laugh. I lift my middle finger and rub it across her palm, to tell her we’re playing again. Or just to feel her shiver.

“What about your hand?” she asks.

“It’s fine. It’s healing. I only keep it bandaged up so you’ll baby me.”

At that, she straightens in her seat. Gets a cutthroat look in her eyes that tells me she’s ready to take me down. We sit there for an hour, playing the slap game, thumb wars, whatever else we can think of. I count her laughs, memorize the sound and wonder if she’s keeping track of mine too. It’s stupid. So fucking stupid, but it feels good and I don’t remember the last time I felt good. More than just physically, at least.

When a customer comes in, the little ghost gets up and does her job. I watch her seat them and take their order and bring them drinks. The sway of her hips when she walks and the curve of her ass drive me crazy.

Soon her shift is over, and I’m walking her out. I back her against her car, cup her cheeks in my hands, and say, “We’re still dancing around this. I want you. Come home with me.”

Because that’s the only thing I can admit. The only thing I understand—a physical want.

She sighs. “I want to… I just don’t know if I should.”

“Because of your fucking brother?” I ask. It takes her a minute to reply. I expect her to tell me I’m wrong. To give me another reason. Maybe to say because it’s me.

“You don’t understand. I’m his little sister. He thinks he has to take care of me. We’re all each other has. I haven’t talked to him since you left and I can’t not go home. He’d worry.”

Funny, I almost get what she’s saying. Even though it was Angel protecting me, covering for me and fixing my mistakes, I always thought I would be able to do the same thing for her.

Only, I left instead. Left her alone with the memories of the little boy she loved so much.

Emotion fights to get to the surface and I want nothing more than to shove it down again. I’ll do anything to make it go away. Leaning into Delaney, my body holds her against her car. “Are you ever going to let me inside?” I ask, grinding into her so she feels the hard length of me. It makes me a prick, falling back on this time and time again, but being a prick is better than cutting myself open and letting my secrets leak out.

“Are you?” she tosses back at me. “Doesn’t feel so good, does it? You throw sexual stuff at me, because you know it builds up those barriers. Maybe I should do the same with the truth?”