Lost in Starlight (Starlight Saga) (11 page)

BOOK: Lost in Starlight (Starlight Saga)
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ELEVEN

Lying in bed, I curl up with Jinx. To calm my nerves, I crack open a spooky Ania Ahlborn novel, but after only reading a few chapters of chilling suspense, I put it down unable to concentrate. Grabbing my purse, I take out my Hello Kitty notebook to jot some things down. Stuff like Hayden’s fast metabolism, how he saved my life, and his near fatal accident.

Sleep eludes me and I toss and turn most of the night. The cat noisily complains by meowing at me until I scratch behind his ears. Jinx yawns and starts purring. At least one of us will get some sleep tonight.

I should be exhausted after the mad dash home for the car, the panic over Hayden’s injuries, and my adrenaline crashing, but my head is still spinning. Images of the ghastly accident keep replaying in my mind, but I finally manage to fall into a light, uneasy slumber.

Bright morning sunshine bleeding through the curtains stings my eyes. I’m too lazy to get up, so I cuddle the cat instead, but all the horrible memories and fierce emotions from last night leap out at me like snarling dogs.

Yawning, I crawl out of bed and shuffle downstairs to take a long hot shower, and then put on my robe. I skirt around the white bathroom scale as if it has cooties and avoid even looking at.

Back in my room, I go to the closet and dig through my clothes. Not really focusing, I stand there and chew on my wet hair. I can’t stop thinking about Hayden, the accident or how amazing last night might’ve went until that stupid drunk driver hit him. I pick up my phone for the thousandth time, willing Hayden to call or text. Nothing.

I walk over to the window and peer out. The black SUV is gone. Good. So is Hayden’s Range Rover.

I sit down hard on the bed. There’s nothing like having my life become a horrid cliché. Yet that is exactly what’s happened. I mentally go over everything that has recently transpired.

Mysterious hot guy moves to new area.
Check.

Cute girl (yes, I mean me) can’t resist hot guy.
Check.

Super weird goings on.
Check

Something very odd about the hot guy.
Check.

Hot guy can be mysterious and secretive.
Check.

Cute girl’s life is saved by hot guy.
Double check.

Bottom Line: my life sucks. It has undeniably turned into some lame paranormal romance novel. Except I’m
not
the predictable heroine. I shake my head vigorously. No. No way.

Because I get bonus points for being smart, competent, and resilient. And for acknowledging how crazy weird all this stuff is.

My cell phone chimes on the desk and I gape at the screen in disbelief.

Holy batshit, Robin.

It’s a message from Hayden. About freaking time.

Hayden: It would seem we need to have another talk.

“You bet your ass, we do,” I mutter at the phone, then type back.

Me: Agreed. But first, are you ok?

Hayden: Never better, thanks to U.

Me: New phone?

Hayden: Yes. Meet me @ the north shoreline in an hour?

Another rendezvous with Hayden. Every inch of my skin tingles.

Me: Ok. C U soon.

I rub my forehead. How in the hell did he recover that fast?

Hurrying back to the closet, I slip off my bathrobe and tug on a pair of frayed jean shorts over black ripped tights. I need something waterproof, so I slip on my comfy leopard-print jelly ankle-boots, which are both perfect and stylish for a walk on the beach.

At the full-length mirror, I apply my makeup, dark eyeliner and a dab of brown shadow that sparkles in the sunlight. Ruby lipstick and peach rouge make my skin look pale against my scooped-neck mauve tee. I pull my long hair up into a high ponytail and leave a few loose strands on each side of my face. Then I snatch up my soiled garments from last night before easing downstairs.

Jonah is seated on a stool at the kitchen counter, munching on some crunchy cereal. It smells good, so I leave my dirty clothes in a crumpled ball on the counter, and pour myself a bowl.

“Why are you up so early?” I ask, sitting across from him.

He wipes his mouth on his sleeve. “Going to Jimmy’s to play Minecraft.”

“Need a ride?” I ask around a mouthful of delicious crunchiness. “I’m on my way to the beach, so I can drop you off first.”

“Okay. Mom had to go to the store for some more paint stuff.” He gets up and dumps his bowl into the sink. “Oh, yeah. This weird dude came by looking for you this morning.”

It isn’t even nine o’clock yet.

I wave my spoon in the air. “Who was it?”

“What am I—your butler?” He shrugs. “Some really tall guy. Must be one of your nerdy friends.”

I drop my spoon into the bowl, splashing milk onto the table. “Did you get his name, creepo?”

“Nope. But he’s way too old for you and he was wearing dark sunglasses, like some kind of stoner. Is he your drug dealer or something?”

“Shut up, twerp! Did you see his car?”

He folds his arms. “A big SUV.”

My breakfast leaps into my throat. My mysterious stalker was here? At my house? This morning?

“What did you tell him?” I demand.

“I told him that all that purple hair-dye has fried your brain.”

“You told him
what
?” I yell. “Are you demented?”

He snickers. “Are you?”

“Why don’t you go to the library and brush up on your ignorance?”

“Calm yourself, crankypants.” Jonah smirks. “Need to put in a call to Jenny Craig?”

I lurch from my seat and hurtle myself at the little creep. Jonah dodges my attack and runs through the house, screaming and laughing. His sneakered feet pound up the stairs before I can catch him and beat the crap outta the ten-year-old menace. My brother has a mouth on him.

Maybe a couple of staples or duct tape will do the trick.

Well, he can just walk to his friend’s house now.

Grabbing my stuff, I storm out the backdoor and ditch my clothes in the garbage. I’ll never be able to explain the bloodstains, let alone salvage them. I unlock my car and back out. I’ll feel better as soon as I get some answers.

Hayden’s already there when I arrive and park in Haven Beach’s parking lot. It’s a two-mile shoreline, separating the island from the city of San Francisco, with sand dunes bordering bicycle trails and picnic grounds. The view of windsurfers and sailboats bobbing in the water, along with the City’s skyline in the background, is mesmerizing.

He hops out of his SUV and my breath catches at the sight of his utter perfection in a black shirt, low-slung jeans, and unbuckled combat boots. A. Mazing.

He limps over to my car and opens my door. Such a gentleman. Sigh.

“Hi,” he says almost shyly, clutching his ribcage with one arm.

I get out of the Jetta and shut the door. “Hi, yourself.”

My heart slams against my ribs in an erratic, dizzying beat. I can’t believe he’s really here. Back from the dead. (Pun intended.) Fixing my gaze on him, I just want to throw my arms around him and squeeze him tight. He seems fine. Not a scratch or broken bone in sight. My mind is boggling over his amazing recovery. Dude had broken bones and stuff. Now? Only a slight limp. The deep gash on his forehead is just a minor scratch now and barely visible.

“You look good,” I say lamely. More than good. Delicious in fact.

“Appearances can be deceptive.” His mouth quirks upward with an appraising nod. “So do you. Look good, that is.”

I flush crimson. Is he serious? I’m
not
his kind of pretty, the kind of pretty that attracts devastatingly handsome guys like Hayden Lancaster. Our eyes meet. As the seconds tick by, I’m paralyzed, gazing at this beautiful, strange boy who stares back at me with some inscrutable expression.

It’s one of those beyond perfect movie moments, and I take a mental snapshot to remember it forever. Before I can say anything else, I’m wrapped in his arms.

“I didn’t want you to get hurt,” he whispers into my hair.

Resting my head on his shoulder, I cling to him, gripping the smooth fabric of his shirt like it’s a lifejacket and I’m about to drown.

“I can’t believe what you did,” I say in a shaky voice. “Shoving me out of the way like that...” I force myself to pull back so I can look into his eyes. “When you hit the ground...I thought you were going to die.”

Hayden places his hands on either side of my face and stares at me as if trying to reassure himself that I’m actually there. “I didn’t hesitate. Didn’t even think twice. You were about to be hurt, and I...I didn’t stop to think. So, I just did it.”

I stare at him. What’s with the mixed signals? He’s being all sweet and stuff when just the other day he made it clear that we can’t be anything serious. Maybe he’s had a change of heart. A girl can only hope!

“You saved my life,” I say, a sob choking my voice.

He moves his hands to grip my shoulders and puts his forehead to mine. “You’re okay,” he says. “Thank God, you’re all right.”

My heart fills with bubbles of happiness. Hayden was worried. He cares about me so much that he put himself in harm’s way to save my life. But then, reality ruptures my happy thoughts.

“I feel so guilty,” I murmur. “You saved my life, but it resulted in you getting hurt.”

“I’ll be fine, Sloane…but you wouldn’t have been.” Hayden lets his hands slide from my shoulders, and he steps away. He regards me intently, his eyes burning with some impenetrable emotion.

Chills flood my skin, but not from the cool breeze. I automatically cross my arms over my chest to hide the twins.

“Are you cold?” he asks.

My stupid face heats. “No...it’s just a silly habit.”

“Why?”

“Boys are always staring at my, um, chest and making obscene remarks.” I laugh uneasily. “It’s no big deal,” I lie.

“Why would they do that?” He tilts his head studying me, and my whole body warms. “Before you answer—
yes
, I know your eyes are hazel.”

I playfully punch his arm. “Shut up! Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

He stares at me with one of his classic Hayden
looks
—a combination of swaggering confidence and major smolder—that makes my heartbeat speed up into overdrive.

“Maybe. Some guys can be dogs. But truthfully? I think each guy finds different things attractive. It’s not a
one size fits all
kind of thing. And most men find variety appealing. As for me? I like ’em thick and soft.”

I jut out a hip and place my hand on it. “Oh, really? Now you’re saying I’m fat?”

He waves both hands in the air. “No! Just that skinny girls don’t usually do it for me. I mean—don’t get me wrong—you have a great body, nice and curvy, but I prefer looking into those incredible eyes…and I really like your funky hair.” He playfully flips a purple strand from my forehead.

That has to be the sweetest thing any boy has ever said to me. Like ever. A confusing array of emotions hit hard. I’ll need at least a month to process them all. But I do know my feelings for Hayden have radically surged from lustful sensations to a full-on shameless crush. And my heart’s plummeting into hazardous places it shouldn’t go.

“Wait here,” he says.

Hayden goes to his car, takes out an old army jacket, and drapes it over my shoulders. The fabric carries the earthy, seductive scent of his cologne. Major swoon.

He stands still and gazes deeply into my eyes again. A confused look mars his striking features, as if he is mentally struggling to find the right thing to say. Hayden picks up a piece of loose hair framing my face, inspecting the purple strands, and I freeze. Muscles in my stomach tighten. He twists the hair around his finger, and I’m lightheaded, my body tense.

He lets the strands fall, and I’m suddenly filled with all this awkward energy.

Did I remember to put on deodorant? Is my hair staying put in the ponytail? I suddenly have to concentrate on the simplest of tasks. Like breathing. Thinking. Talking.

“Wanna hear a dumb joke?” I ask to ease my insecurities and stop wondering when he’s going to kiss me.

One side of his mouth tips up higher. “Shoot.”

“Why do seagulls fly over the sea?”

“I don’t know. Why?”

“Because if they flew over the Bay, they’d be bagels.”

He cracks a small smile. “That
was
bad.”

“I warned you.”

“Your sense of humor is an acquired taste, Sloane.”

“At least I have one.”

“Point taken.” He gazes out at the ocean, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“You seem fine after your accident. More than fine.
Are
you related to Superman?” I joke, but my voice cracks. “Because if you’ve got a red and blue costume with tights tucked away somewhere, I’d love to see it.”

He doesn’t turn his head. “You could say we have a lot in common.” He faintly smiles. “Minus the get-up.”

“Like?” I prod.

“Besides our dashing good-looks and irresistible charisma?”

“Yeah, besides all
that
.” I jab him in the side with my elbow.

“Ouch. Still sore.” He cradles his ribs with one arm and grimaces. “Let’s walk along the shore. I’m stiff and need to move.”

Hayden takes my hand and helps me step over the curb, our shoes instantly sinking into the pebbled sand. He’s still slightly limping and holding his side, the gash on his forehead nothing more than a bloody scab.

“I’m really glad you’re okay,” I say. “And Hayden, I promise not to tell anyone about the accident. You saved my life—and I at least owe you that.”

He peeks at my profile. “Will you drop the article Zach and me, too?”

“Yes, but Devin will need some convincing. He still wants to run the legendary hacker story.”

Hayden stops walking and grasps my chin, pulling at it so my mouth opens and releases a strand of hair that I’m unaware of chewing on. His touch is electric, and everything else in my world melts away, until nothing else matters but him. My body temperature rises at least twenty degrees above normal. But I tell myself to chill. Be smart. Cautious with my heart. Because other than the obvious attraction, we barely know each other.

I shake my head clear of his grip and step over a glob of seaweed. “Why did you hack into the school computer, anyway?”

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