Lawless (7 page)

“Rachel,” he grunts, his voice breaking on my name and crumbling like stardust across his skin where I can feel it under my fingers mixed with his sweat and the sea salt air. “I want to hear you say it. I want to see you feel it.”

I smile faintly, smoothing my palms over his chest and leaning my body down against his. My leg burns with the movement but I don’t care. I get as close to him as I can, take him in as deep as my body will allow as I press my lips against his ear, and I whisper his name once.

“Lawson.”

I say it right this time. I know because I feel it everywhere. I feel my skin prickle with excitement. My stomach knots with an anxious energy, and when he wraps his arms around me to hold me to him tightly, his teeth sinking gently into my shoulder with a tender bite, I feel my body detonate in a showering explosion of life and lust and fear that makes me cry out tremulously.

Lawson growls deep in his chest, a rumbling I feel through my breasts and my body as he rocks it back and forth over his hips, and then he’s clinging to me. His hands are in my hair pulling hard and his breathing is erratic and desperate.

When he stills I move to roll off him, but he holds me in place, pinning my body to his. I lift my head to look down at him and he moves his hands to push my wild hair aside, unburying my eyes. When he finds them he kisses me softly on the lips.

“Stay,” he whispers roughly, his face tired and happy.

“I should go home,” I tell him, not knowing exactly why. It’s not what I want.

Thank God Lawson knows that.

He nods solemnly, running the pad of his thumb over my cheek. “I know. And I’ll get you there. But for now I’m asking you to stay with me.”

I lower my cheek to his chest and settle in against his body. “Okay,” I tell him quietly. Contentedly. “I’ll stay with you. I promise.”

It’s word for word what he told me on the beach after he saved my life. I don’t know why I say it the way I do. I don’t know what exactly I’ve just promised him or if he even wanted me to, but as I say it I know it’s the truth because there’s something here that I need. That I crave. That I’d kill for. That I’ve been dying for.

And it’s not the sex. It’s the man. Not the myth or the legend or the rumors. It’s him.

It’s Lawson.

The next morning my ass is dragging. I’m exhausted. I feel like I’m hung over, and as I’m getting ready for work at the crack of dawn I’m trying really hard not to think about why. To not relive it over and over again in my mind, my body clenching low and tight at the memory.

Lawson’s chest.

Lawson’s hands.

Lawson’s moans.

Lawson’s di—

“You came in late.”

I spin around with my heart in my throat. Dad is there in the doorway to the kitchen, watching me stare into nothing by the sink. An empty coffee cup dangles from my hand, an equally empty coffee pot sitting cold on the maker’s base in front of me. I’ve been standing here waiting for coffee to brew. Coffee I never made.

I need to get it together.

“Uh, yeah,” I mutter, putting the mug down and stepping away from the counter. “Lawson and I hung out for a while after work.”

“He drove you?”

I’m so grateful to him for that – for asking what he already knows. What the entire town already knows. He’s giving me the chance to lie about it if I want to and even though we’ll both know it’s a lie, I know he’ll let me have it.

“Yeah,” I answer honestly. “He surfs down there all the time. He offered to drive me down and back while my leg is healing.”

“Could take all summer.”

“I know.”

“Does he?”

“Yeah.”

“Huh,” he mutters.

I suppress a sigh. “What?”

Dad shakes his head, grabbing his lunch bag out of the refrigerator and heading for the back door. “Long commitment for Lawson Daniel,” he says evenly.

He pulls the door closed hard behind him.

I’m surprised by the relief I feel when Lawson pulls into my driveway ten minutes later. A part of me, small but persuasive, was convinced he would disappear after what happened last night.

An even smaller part kind of wanted him to.

I don’t know what to do with this. With what happened. I don’t know what it means or if it means anything other than the fact that we’re attracted to each other and it felt good.
Really,
really
good. I’m no stranger to sex. I’ve had good, I’ve had bad, and I’ve had a lot of in between, but last night was something singular. It was intense and natural as the tide, and I imagine it was just as inevitable.

But was it a one-time thing? Was it a mistake? Are we going to pretend it never happened?

Are we going to do it again?

He doesn’t get out of the car when I come outside. He doesn’t open my door the way he has before. He doesn’t even look up. As I approach the passenger door I can see him through the windshield, his head down over the phone in his hands. He’s texting quickly, his fingers flying over the keys.

When I open the door he looks up, a forced smile on his face as he deftly darkens his phone’s screen and drops it into a cup holder. “Hey,” he greets me warmly, his tone more genuine than his smile.

“Hi.”

“How are you feelin’?”

I lower myself slowly into the car and pull the door closed behind me. “Okay. Tired.”

“Wild night?”

I shrug. “Pretty boring, actually.”

“Really? Nothing fun or exciting?”

“Stayed home. Read a book.” I lift my hands and dance my fingers for him to see. “Painted my nails. What about you?”

“Same old, same old.”

“You surfed?”

He grins. “Banged a chick.”

I laugh, swatting him hard on the arm. He pretends to cringe from it but then he’s rushing toward it. He’s leaning over the console, he’s in my space, and his lips are on mine silencing my laughter and replacing it with something else entirely. Something far more raw and rough. It’s not invasive, he doesn’t involve his tongue, but it’s intimate. He kisses me with feeling, intensity, and I melt into the seat like hot butter even as my skin explodes in goosebumps.

“I thought about you all night,” he mumbles against my mouth. “I haven’t slept. I haven’t showered. I can still smell you on my skin.” He licks a line along my lower lip, making me shiver. “I can still feel you.”

I feel my body respond to him and his words, but this is not the time and my driveway in broad daylight is absolutely not the place. I put my hands on the sides of his face and move it back, away from mine. I come up for air before he can pull me any farther under.

“I have to go to work,” I remind him.

He grins, crooked and boyish and unashamed. “You sure you don’t want to blow it off and spend the day with me? Take a cooler down to the water. You in that purple bikini—“

“How do you know the colors of my bikinis? I was wearing a yellow one the night you saved me.”

He sits back in his seat, popping the car into gear. “I know because I’ve seen you in probably ten of them at the beach. I like the purple one.”

“I’m scared to ask why.”

“It makes your eyes look warmer.”

“Ha,” I laugh shortly. “Not buying it. Try again.”

“It looks good with your blond hair?”

“Nope.”

“It makes your ass look tight.”

“There it is.”

The drive down to Malibu is quiet. Quiet, but not awkward. The silence isn’t an avoidance, it simply
is
. It feels easy being here with him. Simple when I thought it’d be complicated. I’m enjoying just being with Lawson, and if I’m not reading him wrong, he’s enjoying it too.

He reaches over every now and then and touches my hand. He doesn’t take it in his to hold it. He only touches it. Caresses it lightly, a faint smile on his lips as he drives, like he’s getting something from it. Something small but saccharine, and it’s right and just because it gives something to me in return. It gives me a calm I didn’t know I needed. Being with him like this relieves an anxiety in my blood, a tightness in my bones and my heart that turns me to liquid and sets me free. It feels dangerous and wild but I like it too much to care. I’m too comfortable to know how afraid I should be.

“You’re off at four?” Lawson asks as he pulls up in front of Ambrose Surf.

“Yeah, four today. I close again tomorrow. Good news is we get to sleep in.”

He grins. “I don’t sleep in. I’ll be up at five to get out in the water by six.”

“That’s insane,” I mutter, shaking my head.

“You’ve never surfed that early?”

“I’ve only surfed a handful of times and, no, it was never before noon.”

“I’ll come get you tomorrow morning. We’ll hit the beach before the sun and you’ll see what I’m talking about.”

I feel my face fall as my stomach drops out. He sees it, he has to, but he doesn’t react. He waits, watching me.

“I think I’d rather sleep in.”

“You mean you’re scared of going in the ocean again.”

“Mostly that, yeah,” I admit, figuring what’s the point in lying?

His eyes tighten at the edges. “You gotta get over that. If you don’t do it now it will be harder later.”

I rub my hand absently along my thigh. “I’m not ready yet, Lawson. You need to leave this alone.”

He looks away, nodding reluctantly. “Alright, fine. I’ll drop it for now.”

“Forever.”

“For now,” he chuckles. “But you gotta give me the beach in exchange for my silence.”

“Your eternal silence.”

“Temporary silence. There’s a party tonight. Bonfire, beer, music – the whole deal. And you’re going.”

I’m already shaking my head. “I told you, I’m tired. I’m going home tonight and going to sleep.”

“How are you gonna get there?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “You’re driving me.”

“Am I?”

“Lawson Daniel.”

He laughs, bringing his eyes back to mine. “Am I in trouble?”

“You will be if you don’t drive me home tonight.”

“I will. After the party.”

“I told you—“

“And I’m asking you,” he interrupts. “I’m asking you to try. Not the water, just the beach. Go past the parking lot. Sit by the fire, have a beer, and let it be okay to be there for a few hours. That’s all I’m asking.”

I sigh, feeling frightened and defeated because I know he’s right. I’m a coastal California girl. The Pacific is in my blood. I need it to live, to breathe, and deep down I hate that I’m afraid of it. I feel like I kept my life and my leg that day but I lost something else. I lost my heartbeat, my spirit, and being with Lawson… I don’t know exactly what it is about him, but he gives me that missing piece back, if just for a moment. Maybe it’s because he
is
the sea. He’s the waves and the water. The warm sun on my skin and the soft sand under my feet.

Sand that shifts in the wind and slips away with the tide.

His phone beeps several times, the sound of text messages pouring in. He frowns down at it in the cup holder. He looks annoyed, an expression I can’t believe I’ve never seen on him before. It looks so odd, his strong features looking sharp and angular. Angry.

“I gotta get inside,” I tell him, opening my door. “I’ll see you later?”

He glances up at me, his eyes distant. “Yeah. Have a good day.”

“Thanks. You too.”

I look back over my shoulder when I get to the front of the store. His car is still parked there on the street, his head hunched down. His fingers probably working furious over the keys on his phone.

***

I call Katy on my lunch break. She’s just about to go to start work herself down at the grocery store and I catch her making a mad dash across the parking lot trying not to be late.

“You’re serious?” she asks breathily. “You’re going to the party tonight?”

“Apparently, yeah.”

“Don’t be excited about it or anything.”

“I would be if it was my choice.”

“How is it not?”

“Lawson is blackmailing me.”

“You’ve gotta be one of the only girls in Isla Azul who has ever told that boy no,” she says with admiration.

Not anymore.

I think about telling her. I can’t right now because she’s going to be late and the fact that I slept with Lawson is more than a quick conversation. It’s a Congressional Meeting. A goddam UN Summit. It’s definitely not something you drop on someone and run away.

Maybe it’s not something you tell anyone at all. Ever.

I still don’t know if it’s going to happen again. I want it to, I so massively do, and it’s obvious Lawson does to, but what will that mean? I have no idea. I’m leaving at the end of the summer and not looking to start a relationship, and let’s be real – Lawson Daniel doesn’t do relationships. So what is it then? A fling? I could handle a fling. It might be good for me. One last goodbye to Isla Azul. One last kiss from California to get me through the long dark winter in Boston.

“Shit,” Katy curses under her breath. “I gotta go. My boss just saw me coming in and she’s glaring at me.”

I look down at my watch. “You’re not late yet are you?”

“No, but that bitch thinks anyone not here ten minutes early is late. I swear, I do not get paid enough to work for this woman.”

“You should take this job when I leave. It’s cake. You just have to sit there and look pretty.”

“I might take it from you now.”

“Over my dead body. I need a plane ticket first.”

“Good luck with that. I’ll talk to you later.”

She’s gone before I can say goodbye.