Keep You From Harm (10 page)

“Thanks,” I answer quietly. I’m still not sure exactly what Chloe divulged that day, and I’m reluctant to explain any more than he already knows. Despite the little voice in my head warning me not to say anything, I find myself doing it anyway. “I recognized the bass player. Just before I came here, I saw him back in San Diego, talking to someone in front of our apartment building. I wanted to know what he was doing there. That’s all.” I shrug, pretending it’s not bothering me as much as it actually is.

He wrinkles his forehead. “The bass player for Isolation? Are you sure it was him?”

“No. I’m not one hundred percent sure, but…” I glance down at my hands, positive that Lucas is going to tell me I must be mistaken.

“But you think so,” he finishes.

I nod.

“Did you find anything out when you talked to Chad?” Lucas asks.

“Chad told me he works as a janitor and that he’s probably never left New York State.”

Lucas doesn’t say anything.

“When I approached him the other night after the show and grabbed his arm, he looked at me like he recognized me, too. Actually, he looked like a deer in the headlights when he saw me, and it seemed like he just wanted to get away from me as fast as he could.”

“You shouldn’t have gone up to him that way,” he says in a serious tone.

I nod even though I disagree. I have no idea why I’m even telling him this much.

“Maybe there’s another way to find out more about him,” Lucas suggests.

I glance at him, surprised that he seems to be taking me seriously. “I know his name now. Rob Jarvis. I could probably try Google next.”

“If you do find anything, don’t approach him again. Okay? Call me and we’ll figure something out.”

I laugh ruefully. We’re back to this again. Not too long ago he said he wasn’t made of ice, and that I could talk to him. Then he turned all rude and moody the very next day when I told him I wasn’t sure about going to Atlas. Right now, his suggestion seems beyond ridiculous to me. “Lucas, I’m not going to call you. Why would I call you?”

He shifts toward me in his seat. “Because I’m trying to be your friend here.” His eyes are snapping with irritation now. “Why do you want to make it so hard?”

I flinch at his words and drag my gaze away from him.

I hear him let out a heavy breath. “I’m sorry,” he sighs. “I just… I don’t know how to talk to you.”

Hearing his defeated tone, I immediately regret my words. I look at him again, taking in his eyes, dark with frustration, and his somber expression, which he’s not trying to mask for a change, and I note his presence. It’s heavy and potent, and it charges the air around me. I’m staring at him so long that his expression softens, and his gaze begins to search mine.

“Myles thinks I’m going to hurt you,” I say, not sure why I’m bringing that up now.

A sad resignation flickers across his features. “He’s probably right.”

“The fact that I could would surprise me.”

He offers me a small smile and leans in closer. “I’ve screwed this up six ways to Sunday, haven’t I?”

I study him, but as usual, I find no clue as to what he’s thinking. “What do you mean?”

The intensity I’ve become familiar with saturates his face. “I saw you the first night you came here, Raielle. It was dark, but you were standing under the streetlight, lit from above just like an angel, and I thought you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.” His gaze leaves mine, like he’s embarrassed by his admission.

My breath grows shallow as his words wash over me, and I remember back to that night when we first saw each other across the darkness.

“Then you were at school.” His eyes meet mine again. “I couldn’t believe it when you turned up in all my morning classes. I figured I’d catch your eye and smile at you. We’d talk, and I’d ask you out or maybe you’d ask me out. But you never looked my way. Not once,” he says with disbelief. “I’ve never wanted anyone this much before, and you’re the only girl in school who doesn’t want to go out with me. At all,” he adds with a miserable laugh. “I figure this must be karma or something.”

I can feel my heartbeat echoing in my ears. I don’t know whether to throw myself into his arms or call him a conceited idiot. I do finally know that the way I’ve felt from the first moment I saw him is not one-sided. This is why the air seems like it’s sparking with electricity when we’re together. But if I admit my feelings to him, feelings I’ve hardly even admitted to myself, what will that mean? I’m thrilled and terrified and suddenly paralyzed. And underneath it all, I realize I’m angry with him. That’s the one clear emotion inside me right now, and I hone in on it.

I realize that I’ve been staring at him silently when he finally says, “Anyway…” Then he runs both his hands through his hair. “You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted to tell you that. It doesn’t have to be a big deal.” Then he gets out of the truck, leaves the door open and comes around to my side. He yanks my door open and waits for me to get out. When I don’t move, he says, “If you’re going to drive, you kind of need to sit in the driver’s seat.”

He’s standing over me with his arm resting on top of the open passenger door. He’s trying to appear casual, but I can feel the tension rolling off him.

“This is why you’ve been acting so cold to me?” I ask. “You were upset because you think I don’t want you,
unlike
every other girl in school?”

His jaw tightens when I paraphrase his words back to him. The part of me that was initially overjoyed at his confession is completely overtaken by the part that feels wounded by the passive aggressive way he’s handled himself around me. “That first day in school, when you told Hailey to leave me alone, you didn’t say a word to me. You just scowled and ignored me.”

He rubs a hand over the back of his neck uncomfortably. “I know. I’m sorry about—”

“I don’t care. Okay? You’re the one who set the tone between us. I’m sorry I didn’t notice you in class that first day. I was a little distracted by my screwed up life. When I did notice you, you were a silent, glaring ass to me. So don’t stand there and tell me that I don’t want you. You don’t know the first thing about what I want because your pride was too wounded to ever give me a chance.” With that, I jump out of the car and stomp around to the driver’s side.

Lucas is on me immediately. “Wait a minute,” he demands. “What does that mean?”

“You’re a smart guy,” I snap. “Figure it out.”

When I move to get into the truck, he takes my hand and turns me around. “I think we both know I’ve got a speed limit IQ when it comes to you. You’re going to have to explain it to me.”

The suddenly hopeful look on his face chips away at my anger. I sigh and feel deflated as my head of steam evaporates, replaced by nerves and the realness of an uncharacteristically vulnerable Lucas standing before me. My eyes move from our linked hands to his expectant expression. After everything he’s just told me, I have to be honest with him. Anything less would be a betrayal.

“I felt it, too. The first night I saw you,” I admit, hearing the nervous tremor in my voice. “This thing between us. I feel it every time I’m near you, Lucas.”

His hand tightens around mine and my blood heats. “But it doesn’t matter,” I whisper, trying to reclaim my hand.

He won’t release me. “What do you mean? It doesn’t matter?”

“Myles is right. I am going to hurt you. And you’re going to hurt me, too.”

He takes my other hand. “Myles is not right.”

I shake my head miserably.

“Even if he is, maybe it’s worth it,” he says, and I don’t miss the subtle plea in his tone.

“You don’t understand.” I can’t drag him into all my crap. I can’t have an honest relationship with anyone. I can never tell him everything. He’d think I’m either crazy or a freak, and he wouldn’t be wrong.

Lucas sighs in frustration and drops my hands. “You’re right. I don’t understand.”

His pained expression pierces my heart. I need him to know I’m not saying this to hurt him. I recall the way my mother used to describe the way things needed to be. She compared the way we had to live our lives to the ocean and its currents. She told me our preservation depended upon our staying in the calm shallow waters near shore. If we ventured out, we risked getting swept up in the currents and being taken out to sea, losing control, and never reclaiming it again. If I let myself fall for Lucas, I risk losing myself, and I don’t know what that might mean for both of us.

“Look,” he takes a step closer to me. “Here’s what I’ve got so far. I want you, and it turns out you want me, too.” He eyes me expectantly. When I reluctantly nod my agreement, he raises his hand and pushes a lock of hair away from my cheek. “Then let me explain something to you. Now that I know how you feel, there’s no way I’m going to forget it or pretend there’s nothing between us. I can’t think of one good reason why you would want me to.”

Then he closes the remaining distance and wraps his arms around me. At first, I don’t give in. I remain stiff in his embrace and pretend that being held by him isn’t the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt. I can’t remember the last time someone hugged me or touched me in a way that expressed affection of any kind. But it’s too hard to resist him, and I decide I’m not going to anymore.

I feel my fists unclench as my arms move down around his sides to his back. I sink into him, resting my cheek on his shoulder. Lucas makes a low noise in his throat when my arms tighten, and I return his hug. I could stand here forever absorbing his warmth and strength, with the ridged muscles of his chest and stomach pressed against me. Then his fingers slowly slide up and down the length of my spine, and our embrace begins to change. I’m suddenly hyper aware of every part of me that’s in contact with him. I inhale his clean spicy scent, and I feel a tightening low in my belly. No simple embrace has ever made me feel this way. That has me once again wondering what it would be like to actually kiss Lucas. I’d probably break apart into a million pieces. I would completely lose control. This wakes me up and brings reality down on me. I force myself to pull back. I feel guilty because he really doesn’t know what he’s getting into with me.

“We’ll take things slow,” he tells me, as though reading my thoughts.

I disengage from him completely and ignore the fact that I’m already missing the feel of his arms around me.

“Trust me,” he says. His eyes travel over me like a soft caress.

I feel a small smile begin because for some reason I’m already starting to trust him.

He answers with a slow, sexy grin of his own. “So, how about that driving lesson?” he asks, redirecting the conversation, taking my silent smile as his answer.

“How about it?” I repeat, and his eyes glimmer with satisfaction. He’s just convinced me to see where our feelings take us, and he knows it.

Compared to the preshow, the driving lesson is somewhat anticlimactic. Lucas won’t let me do anything interesting like burn rubber on the turns or take the exit onto the freeway. Basically, he has me back up, parallel park, and drive like a little old lady on the narrow back roads behind the office park.

“How about if you let me drive home?” I suggest as the lesson wraps up.

He shakes his head. “Can’t. That would be illegal. Although, that fact may not deter the carjackers among us.”

“Fine.” I pout then open the door to switch seats with him.

Rather than passing me as we meet behind the truck, Lucas pulls me to him. “You did good,” he says. Then he kisses the side of my head and releases me.

When my senses return, I join him inside his truck again. The look on his face tells me he knows how his touch affects me, and he enjoys seeing me flustered.

“You want to go again on Wednesday?” he asks.

I take a breath to calm myself. Then I shake my head. It would be so easy to lose myself in him, to forget about everything else, everything I’ve worked for. As much as I’d like another lesson so soon, I need to keep my priorities in order. “I don’t know. I’m pretty behind in my classes. I really should spend some time trying to catch up.”

“It’s the end of senior year. You should be on cruise control now,” he points out.

“Until I get my college acceptance letter, I’m not taking any chances. I heard they can request transcripts up until the very last minute.”

“I already got into school. I applied early acceptance,” he says like it’s no big deal.

I’m so envious that I completely ignore his casual arrogance. “Congratulations. That must feel amazing.”

He nods. “My grades can’t completely tank now. They still want my final transcript, but I won’t lie. It’s definitely a load off.”

“So where are you going?”

“Columbia.”

I laugh at his off-hand tone. “Wow, Lucas. That’s an Ivy League school.”

He shrugs. “What about you?”

“I want to go back to California. UCLA is my first choice.”

He whistles. “That’s a good school, too. I hear you can minor in surfing there.”

“Shut up.” I laugh.

He grins at me, but it soon fades, and I wonder if he’s thinking what I am. That if our relationship actually works out, we’ll be nearly three thousand miles away from each other next year. But it’s seriously premature to let my thoughts go there. We’ll probably crash and burn long before that.

“Do you know what you want to study?” I ask.

He thinks for a minute. “I’m not really sure. Maybe journalism.”

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?” I ask, changing the subject but not really. I want to know everything about him now.

“A younger brother, Liam,” he smiles. “He’s in sixth grade.”

His easy grin tells me how much he cares for his brother. “Is your family close then? Are your parents still together?”

Lucas doesn’t answer right away, and I hope he doesn’t think I’m interrogating him. The muscle in his jaw that tenses when he’s upset is a tight little ball. “Yes,” he finally says.

I think I’ve just stumbled onto a sore subject, but I don’t know why, and there’s no time to poke at it because soon we’re parked in front of Kyle and Chloe’s house.

“I want your number,” Lucas says. He pulls out his phone and waits while I retrieve mine since I don’t know my number by heart. We exchange numbers. Then he kisses me quickly right on my lips. “See you at school tomorrow,” he says.

His kiss startles me, and I can feel my cheeks heat as he watches for my reaction to him. A part of me wants to erase the satisfied smile I see growing on his face. He really can be unbearably arrogant.

“See you tomorrow,” I reply, before slipping out of the truck and trying to hide the juvenile blush I know I’m still wearing. My reaction to him strikes me as ridiculous. I’m nearly eighteen, and I’ve certainly been kissed before. But my god, it’s never been Lucas doing the kissing, and the slightest touch from him can’t even be compared to the clumsy groping I’ve experienced in the past.

I’ve heard the phrase walking on air before but I’ve never had the need to apply it to myself, until today. As I enter the house, I really do feel lighter and happy and anxious all at the same time. I’ve never had a real relationship before. I’ve seen too many girls in my situation try to fill emotional holes with boys and sex. I’ve also seen too many men force physical relationships onto girls like me. I’ve somehow gotten lucky, and managed to avoid both. But that makes me very inexperienced. I’m pretty sure Lucas does not suffer from that same problem.