If I Can't Have You (8 page)

My life always feels like it’s so planned out. I’m a good girl. I went to school, obeyed my parents, and always followed the rules. I got good grades and got into a good college. For once, it feels amazing to get away from that. Good isn’t always fun. Most of the time it’s predictable and boring.

Right now I want to get in trouble. I want to break rules. I want to be spontaneous. I want to be bad.

A deceitful look spreads across my face and Drake stares at me unsure of what to do. I can tell by the way he’s looking at me that he thinks I’m a loose cannonball. I’m going to shoot out of my barrel at any second and cause a wave of mass destruction.

Reaching down, I scoop up a heaping pile of sand. I flash him a wicked smirk and chuck the heaping-over pile of sand at him. The wet, dirty sand hits him smack dab in the middle of his perfectly pressed white button-up, leaving a dirty residue and falls to the ground in a clump. He drops his head and stares at his shirt.

Me, I’m trying so hard to keep my laughter in my throat that I snort. Then I let out a forced grunt.

Drake lifts his head slowly and slits his eyes, glaring at me seriously. “You think that’s funny?” I think it’s hysterical. But I can’t tell him that because I’ve reached the point where I’m laughing so hard I can barely breathe. Drake shakes his head and crouches down. “Well, we’ll see how funny you think it is now.” In a split second he scoops up a handful of sand and I take off running. Still laughing. Laughing so hard I have to clutch my side as my ribs start aching.

Drake catches up to me and I shriek as a glob of wet sand smacks into my bare shoulder. Then he tackles me. And we both fall to the ground, rolling around in the sand.

He’s on top of me and I stare up at him. His long black lashes curl up in a feminine way and almost touch his eyebrows. I push his ringlets that hang down into his eyes away from his face. He looks even sexier with his bangs pushed back. A flash of moonlight gleams in his blue eyes. Then his mouth crashes into mine like the jet from Lost when it crash landed into the ocean.

I wish that I could freeze time—no—I wish that I was dreaming so that I could have this same dream over and over again for the rest of my life.

Our kisses escalate to the point where they are coming faster. More deep. More passionate. He kisses me how I imagined a man from a romance novel would kiss his lover and I know this won’t be enough. I want him to kiss me like this every single day. Until the day I’m six feet under lying in my wooden box, lying in my final resting place.

I sit up panting and his hands are in my hair. A second later he rips his shirt off and I brush my fingers against his abs like they’re a road map to the heavens. I need him to kiss me again. If he doesn’t I think I’ll go crazy. But he does. This time more soft. More gentle. More sensual.

I fall backwards into the sand and arch my back as he moves down my neck, tracing the curve with his kisses, and moves on to my collar bone. I love him. I love him I love him. Even though I know that isn’t necessarily true, those are the words I keep hearing in my head.

I can feel my want for him, writhing in my veins. I can feel it prickle in my bones. I can feel the ache for him in place of my heart. Pounding. Thumping. Hammering. I might as well be a construction site; that’s how much I’ve let my feelings for Drake build up.

He hooks his arm underneath my waist and presses his body against mine as water trickles over our limbs. His lips brush against my ear and his hot breath whirls through me like steam from a tea kettle. “You’re beautiful, kid,” he whispers seductively.

“No one has ever told me that,” I tell him.

“What?” Drake holds himself up slightly and examines my face.

“No one has ever told me that I’m beautiful.”

Except him. Well, kind of. Once.

He gives me an odd look, like I might be lying to him, but I’m not. I’m plain. I’m simple. I’m quiet. I was in the marching band in high school and in chess club. I was a social outcast and kind of nerdy if anything. Boys didn’t look at me how I wanted them to or try to date me. Sure I’d had a couple of boyfriends, but both were geeks like me.

“Well, you are beautiful to me.” He leans down and kisses me softly. “Robin, my beautiful singing bird.”

~10~

Those who never make mistakes lose a great many chances to learn from them.

~Author Unknown~

“I could kill you!” Whit yells into my ear.

I blink several times and my eyes fly open. “What…What are you talking about?” I shove the comforter off my legs and sit up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. My head is spinning and I feel like a surgeon has removed my brain and put it in the washer on the spin-cycle.

Whit hops out of bed and puts her hands on her hips. “Really? Do you not remember anything that happened last night?”

One memory of last night pops into my head. My moment on the beach with Drake. I exhale as a fleeting feeling whirls through my stomach. I feel weightless. Like there’s no gravity in the room and if I don’t use my pillow as an anchor I’ll float up to the ceiling. “Just kissing Drake on the beach.”

Whit flops down next to me and throws her hands up in the air. “Well I’m glad
you
had a great time.” There’s sarcasm in her voice.

“Did something happen?” I don’t remember much of anything aside from my moment on the beach.

“Don’t even get me started,” Whit huffs. “First you go all AWOL on me. Then that Sadie spills a beer all over me. And that’s not even where the real fun begins.”

I give her a pleading look. “Well? Tell me what happened then.”

Whit shakes her head. “I don’t need to tell you. I can show you.”

The last part of her comment scares me. “What do you mean you can
show
me?” She bends down and rummages through her suitcase for a minute and pulls out her laptop. My head starts pounding and nervousness bounces off the walls of my stomach. “Wait a second. Do I even want to see what you’re about to show me?”

Whit doesn’t look at me. “No,” she says as she frantically taps the keys on the keyboard. “But you need to.” Seconds later she turns the laptop toward me as streaming video on YouTube starts playing of a wasted girl dancing around on a table in her underwear.

At first I laugh. Then I focus on the girl’s hot pink polka dot underwear. “No,” I gasp as dread and embarrassment seeps into my blood stream. “No.” Then I lift up the sundress I fell asleep in. My pink polka dot underwear practically poke my eyes out. “That’s me!”

Whit points at the screen as I watch on. “And that’s me trying to get you to come down.” The video continues and I watch in horror as Whit hops on the table yanking on my arm and I stumble, backhanding her across the face accidentally, knocking her off the table. Elliot is in the background and I notice he catches Whitney when she falls.

But where is Drake?

I continue watching my drunken uncoordinated movements and I feel like I’m going to barf. Then I slide in some clear liquid on the table, probably beer, and fall off the table myself.

I slam the laptop closed. “Oh my god!” I’m mortified and embarrassed and one hundred percent I can never show my face around here ever again. “I’m an idiot.”

Whit takes the laptop and puts it back in her bag. “Give her an inch and she takes a mile.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I scoff.

“It means you had way too much to drink.”

“You should talk. I’ve seen you do worse.” Once, at a party in high school Whit took all of her clothes off, wrapped herself in a blanket and passed out in the host’s front yard. Needless to say, she woke up the following morning next to a puddle of her vomit.

“And not only that, but you stick me with a hottie who clearly wants you,” she mentions, changing the subject.

I bolt upright. “Wait…what?”

“The brother, Elliot. Yeah, he wants you.”

A laugh gets stuck in my throat and I grunt. “No he doesn’t.” That’s insane. There is no way Elliot wants me. I’ve only seen him two times. And on top of that he doesn’t even know me. Whit has clearly lost her mind.

“You didn’t spend half of the night with him. He asked me a billion questions about you. It felt like every time I turned around he was asking a different one.” She folds her arms across her chest. “And on top of that, he kept saying how Drake wasn’t right for you.”

“That doesn’t mean he wants me.” Why would Elliot want someone like me? I have hard time believing one Robertson brother might actually like me let alone two.

Sometimes I think that behind Drake’s beautiful face and luminous eyes is a beast with razor sharp teeth, ready to maul me or swallow me. Every time I’m with him I have to remind myself that may be someone like Drake could fall for someone like me. Even though deep, down inside I know I’m living in a dream world by thinking that.

A lot of times I like to think that I’d be perfectly content living in a dream world where everything is blissfully perfect, and people love each other, treat each other with respect, crap daisies, and eat hot fudge sundaes all day, every day, without gaining a pound.

And even though I like to think that way, I know that’s not reality. I’d give anything to step away from reality now and keep on pretending because let’s face it; reality sucks.

Whit grabs my shoulder and starts shaking me. My head bobbles back and forth and I swear I can hear my brain rattling in my skull. Plus the shaking makes my head throb harder. “You really are clueless, aren’t you my friend?”

“It just doesn’t seem right?” Elliot and Drake are beautiful, bronzed God’s of perfection. So how could two specimens of perfection want someone as imperfect as me? I’m not used to being noticed by guys so Whit’s comment about Elliot liking me as well is hard to process.

“Face it, babe, high school is over. In this world you’re not the geek in chess club. You’re a stone cold fox.”

Her comment makes me laugh. Maybe that’s what other people think, but in my eyes I will always be the invisible, chess-club geek.

****

After some heavy persuading and a twenty dollar bribe Whit gets me to come out of the house and go down to the beach. On the way we pass a group of guys and several of them shout at me.

“Nice ass!”

“Can we hire you again?”

“Shake it for me, baby!”

I hang my head low in humiliation and keep my eyes on the sand. When will this get old? I wish I could rewind time and have a do-over.

We get farther away from the group and I can still hear them laughing.

“Ignore them,” Whit mutters.

That’s easy for her to say. She’s not the one who dropped trou in front of everyone and gave the customers what they paid for.

“Well, well,” someone says.

Whit comes to a halt abruptly. I’m not paying attention to where I’m going and smack into her back. Her head whips around. “Watch where you’re going, Robs.”

“Sorry.” I lift my head and Elliot comes into view looking like a bronzed God. Shirtless. Toned abs. Perfect hair. Gleaming white-toothed grin.

“If it isn’t the life of the party.”

I’ve had enough. My table dancing moment was the only moment like that I’ve ever had in my life. “Would you give me a freakin break?” I snap.

Elliot raises his hands. “Easy. I was just joking.”

I scowl. “Well, don’t.” It’s bad enough that I’m dancing on a table on YouTube in my underwear for the whole world to see. I don’t need to be reminded of it for the rest of my life.

“Don’t mind her,” Whit interjects. “She’s still hung over and suffering from the aftermath of her first and only striptease.”

Only is right. I will never ever do that ever again. Did I say never ever? Because I don’t think I can say those two words enough. Never ever. Never ever. Never ever. Give me a library and books over beer and frat parties from now on. Maybe I should move into a convent. You never see nuns go wild.

Elliot and Whit chat for a minute and my eyes break away from them and observe the beach, searching for Drake. Then I decide I don’t want to see him and lower my head again. I replay the horrifying video in my mind. Maybe he didn’t see it because I can’t remember seeing him in the crowd of onlookers. I remember seeing Elliot, but I didn’t see Drake.

“There’s a bonfire on the beach tomorrow night,” Elliot says. “You guys should come.”

“I’m swearing off parties for the rest of my life,” I groan.

Elliot winks at me. “Come on. It will be fun. And I promise I’ll keep an eye on you. I won’t let you get out of control.”

“How noble of you.”

“We’d love to come!” Whit pipes up and I scowl at her for speaking up for me.

Elliot turns to leave and locks eyes with me. “I hope to see you guys there.” He walks away, but not before tossing me a flirtatious grin over his shoulder. He can flirt with me all he wants, but that’s not going to change the fact that my heart belongs to someone else.

And conveniently, it happens to be his brother.