Love Me: The Complete Series (64 page)

Her cell vibrated on the counter, and she snatched the device before it slipped to the floor.

Her mother’s voice on the other side had a fatigued whine. “Hey, sweetie, what are you up to?”

Caroline grinned. “At the moment, I’m plastering myself in face glitter and fake eyelashes.”

A giggle came through the earpiece. “Well, that’s nice, though I never figured you for the fake-anything look.”

Caroline shifted the phone to her shoulder and slipped into her black boots. While she’d doused herself in glitter and her sequined shirt reflected like a disco ball, she wasn’t donning a skirt. She didn’t feel like baring her legs in the cold. “I’m going to a frat party—as Tinker Bell. Can you believe that? A friend of mine asked me to come, and he should be here soon. Everything okay there?”

A couple seconds of silence made her wonder if she’d lost the connection. “Yeah, yeah, I just wanted to make sure you’re planning to come home for winter break.”

Caroline flicked off the light and strode toward the closet to retrieve a jacket. “Of course I am. What else would I do? We have finals next week, and I’ll leave after my last test. I’ll let you know then. Gotta go, Mom, my friend’s here.”

She clicked the phone just as Roger rapped on the door. She felt guilty for not divulging more about their friendship, but she wasn’t quite ready to expose him to her world. His world was so much bigger and bolder; hers was quiet and simple. And perhaps a tad boring. She hated hanging up on her mother, too, but time was limited. Besides, they’d talk for hours once she made it home for break—it could wait until then.

Caroline whisked the door opened and thrust her tongue into her cheek to stifle a laugh. She cast her gaze up and down Roger’s costume. “Well, that’s certainly full of sparkle.”

Roger held out his arms and did a very Motown-ish twirl in a deep-plum sequined suit. Or was it a tuxedo? “Isn’t it awesome? I found it at a thrift shop.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m getting visions of matadors, Michael Jackson, and—”

He whisked his hand from his back and held out a royal-blue felt hat, then pointed at his toes. “I’m a rhinestone cowboy. See. Check out this hat.” With a flick of his wrist, he rolled the hat atop his brown waves and lifted his lips into a slow, devious grin.

Caroline felt the increasingly familiar kick of warmth and released a giggle. “Ha. Tinker Bell and Tinseltown. Aren’t we a pair?”

Roger crooked his arm for her and bowed. “You ready, Tink?”

She squinted up at the light over the front door. Between their sequined bodies and the glow above, a kaleidoscope of color danced over her steps. Slipping a hand into his arm, she bounded down and headed to the party.

The evening was surreal—like waking up in the middle of
Ever After.
Caroline imagined that those wings on Drew Barrymore’s costume would have made an awesome addition to her Tinker Bell get-up.

Once the slow music started and Roger pulled her tight, she realized wings would have severely hampered her ability to get close to him. Forget the wings. Wings are highly overrated.

“You look blissful—like you just ate an entire bag of potato chips.” As Roger’s big browns focused on her face, she noted there was a swipe of glitter on his chin. Had that come from her? And how had he discovered her fetish for salty chips?

“This is better. So much better. All these lights and people dressed up like a ball. It’s perfect.” She waved at their surroundings.

“You’re perfect.”

Was he teasing? His eyes held no mirth. She knew she wasn’t even close to perfect, but it was nice to hear.

“Yeah, right.”

She peeked over his shoulder and noted Nathan approaching. “Creep alert, two o’clock.”

Roger glanced at his fraternity brother. “Hey, give him a break. You can’t fault the guy for trying to date perfection. I’m just glad I found you first.”

Caroline wasn’t sure he’d technically
found
her, but she registered the compliment. “I don’t think you actually found me so much as kidnapped me.”

“Details are irrelevant.” Roger wrapped an arm over her shoulder and drew her close. He kissed her hair. “Besides, you
are
with the hottest cowboy here, and I’ve been told girls love guys in boots and cowboy hats.”

She cocked a brow. “I don’t think that includes sequined suits that likely belonged to a Prince wannabe.”

“I could always take it off,” he whispered in her hair.

Whoa. The vision that crossed her mind made her blood pressure hitch. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea here.”

“Who said anything about here?” He grinned.

Music blared from a speaker system. “I’m not sleeping with you, Roger.”

“Ahem.” Nathan stood behind Roger in a bedazzled T-shirt, which was the extent of his costume.

“Hi, Nathan. Nice shirt.” Caroline kept her voice chipper as Roger’s arm clenched a bit on her shoulder. “I love the theme of this party. I’d much rather wash glitter from my hair than goo—though the oily stuff was kind of fun.” She shot a sideways glance at Roger. Nathan would get the wrong idea from her innuendo, but who cared?

“Thanks. This was my idea. The entertainment crew split up the party themes and drew numbers at the beginning of the year to decide who planned which event. I pulled this one.”

“Nice,” Roger answered.

Nathan shrugged. “Hey, we needed to do something classy before everyone disappeared for the holidays. Plus we have to celebrate the end of finals. Don’t forget to get a picture taken in the photo booth over there. It won’t be as professional as Caroline’s, but you need something to remember.” Nathan introduced them to a short blonde with a halo of curls and a silver glittered ring atop her head to match. Caroline and Roger smiled and waved then hooked arms and wandered away.

Green Day blared over the speaker system, and Roger pulled Caroline toward the music. Caroline loved their tunes and happily joined the mass of dancers on the floor, dripping glitter along the way.

An hour later, they were covered in sweat and sparkle. Roger grabbed a few beers from an open ice pit. “It’s suffocating. Let’s cool off outside,” he said. With her hair in damp ringlets, she had no problem following him.

Outside, Roger walked her around the grounds of their fraternity compound. It was aesthetically pleasing in a fancy way, even if the interior was filled with stolen street signs, bar lights, and posters of half-naked women. She’d glanced in a few bedrooms as she sought out the bathroom earlier.

“Caroline, about that sleeping-together thing.” They were going to have that discussion now? Seriously?

“I said I’m not sleeping with you.”

He grinned. “Technically, you already have. I’ve been at your place at least three or four times a week.”

She rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t count.” She didn’t dare admit she’d thought about giving him a little drawer space to stash a change of clothes.

Roger’s eyes glinted in the flicker of the strings of white light that hung from the fences outside. “Hey, it counts for me. So, what are you doing over the holiday break? Are you heading home or staying?”

Glad for a change of focus, Caroline took a sip of her beer. “I’m going home.”

He hesitated for a second, and she watched his Adam’s apple lunge as he searched for the right words. “I was hoping I could talk you into spending a couple of days at my house.”

“Here?”

He shrugged. “Not exactly. My family always has a big family thing. It’s not a big deal, but you’d probably enjoy yourself—no pressure or anything. I just think they’d, I don’t know, maybe like you?”

Oh God, he wanted her to meet his family? Her face flushed, and the sweat on her forehead instantly dried. That sounded serious.

“I can’t. It’s just my mother and me. My dad’s gone.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. We never really talked about that.”

“No, he’s not
dead.
He’s just ... I don’t know. Last I heard, he was in France on an assignment. He’s a journalist. I have seen him all of six times since I was about sixteen.”

“So they’re split up?”

She sighed. “Who knows. We’re pretty screwed up. She doesn’t talk about it, and I don’t ask. Pretty weird, huh?”

Their eyes met for a second, and she thought she saw a little pity buried in the depths of his. She didn’t want pity. He watched her over the rim of his Solo cup as he slugged back the rest of his beer. “Maybe she could come, too?”

She shook her head in disbelief. “Uh-uh. No way. We hardly know each other, and you’re asking me to bring my family to your house? That’s—crazy. Besides, what’s the point? She doesn’t need to know you. I’ll be gone in a few months. I don’t want her getting attached.”

I don’t even want ME getting attached.

Roger loved being home for holidays. It was a little claustrophobic being surrounded by his sisters, but it was also the only time when they all were converged at the house together. He missed that part of his childhood.

He stood in the kitchen sipping iced tea as his mother, Ruth, and youngest sister, Rebecca, chopped vegetables and stirred bowls of unknown goo dubbed—the latest “dip” recipe he was sure to enjoy. All of them were on diets each time he saw them, so veggies were a staple. For them, not him. He could care less about the slight beer belly he’d taken on since freshman year. He patted it affectionately and took another sip of tea. “Where’s Dad?”

His mother’s eyes were swollen and red. She must have been up late working on the food for the day. She shot her gaze at the ceiling. “Work, of course. They’re swamped, and he’s there almost every night. If he’s not there, he’s on the phone with one client or another. If you ask me, they need to hire some help.”

Roger frowned. His father had never missed these celebrations before—he loved having everyone together.
Odd.

The door banged open then shut as footsteps thundered up from the basement garage. He must be home.

“Hello!” Definitely not Dad’s voice. There was no mistaking his oldest sibling’s high-pitched squeal for their father’s. She rounded the corner and flung herself against Roger’s chest, sloshing tea down his chin.

“Rhianna, chill. You spilled my drink.” He wiped the splatter from his shirt, tossed the tea glass in the sink, and wrapped her in a bear hug. “How’s that new job going?” Last he’d heard, she was working for a state horticulture agency on a sustainable living project. She always loved a cause—any cause really—and flitted from one to the next.

Rhianna waved a hand. “It’s a job. Did Emma show this time?”

Their middle sister hadn’t attended many of the family events the past couple of years. She’d had a blow-out with their Dad from what Roger heard. She avoided the subject when he called. “Nope. Mom said she’s on a ski trip with a group.”

“When did she learn how to ski?”

Roger laughed, then made his way into the den and plopped onto his dad’s chair, stretching his legs over the worn ottoman. There was something comforting about the spot his father had staked claim to—it was worn with age, yet no one dared move or replace anything. Hearing the sound of a motor, he sat up to see his father’s car pull into the crowded drive. About time the old man showed.

Roger noted the shadow of his father still behind the wheel. Was he talking on his cell?

Roger waved. His father returned the gesture and extricated himself from the car as he stuffed his phone into a pocket. The minute Eric Freeman stepped inside, Roger felt the chill. His mother stayed in the kitchen while his father made the round of hugs with Roger and his sisters.

Something wasn’t right. Both his father and mother wore red-rimmed eyes like hay-fever sufferers. Hers seemed pooled with near-tears. His were just plain red. When they’d finished their meal and caught up on everyone’s lives, his mom picked up dishes and disappeared to the kitchen. The sisters followed. Roger stared at his father. “Dad, what’s going on?”

Mason Eric Freeman, known as Eric by his friends and family, steepled his fingers over his empty plate, his elbows planted firmly on the table. “Nothing. Everything’s fine. Everything’s
going
to be fine. Don’t worry. We’ll talk about it later—after everyone settles down.”

Settles down? What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Eric’s cell chimed in his pocket and he excused himself to take the call, striding toward the bathroom. He returned forty-five minutes later while they were all lounging in the den. “We have something to tell you,” Eric said. He motioned for Ruth to stand and join him, but she stayed in her seat.

Outside, Conan barked for attention. A reminder that Roger had left him tied to the steps far too long.

“What’s up?” Rebecca asked. Her voice was cheerful, yet Roger registered the dread in her eyes. Whatever they were about to say, she knew more than the rest. Roger narrowed his eyes at her, and she blinked. Was she about to cry?

Eric frowned at his wife. “Are you gonna help me out here? Or do I have to do this myself?”

She shrugged. “Seems to me like you haven’t been doing
anything
by yourself in quite some time. Nor have you done it with—”

Eric held up a hand. “Stop. Look, guys. I know this is bad timing, but we’re hardly ever together anymore. It seemed better to tell everyone in person rather than trying to track each of you down separately. Your mother and I have agreed—to take some time off.”

Roger sucked in his breath as if punched in the gut. Any time someone leads with the words “bad timing” whatever follows can’t be good.

Rhianna jumped up to hug her mother. “A vacation! That’s awesome. Where are you going?”

“Not that kind of time off, idiot,” Roger snapped.

Ruth patted Rhianna’s arm and wrestled free. Her jaw was taut with forced composure. “No, honey. Your dad’s moving out for a while. He needs to—hell, I don’t know what he needs.” She rushed out. A moment later, the bedroom door closed.

Roger was torn between chasing after his mother and punching his dad in the face. Fortunately, Rhianna ran toward the closed door, leaving them sitting in silence. A glance at his youngest sister confirmed tears streaming down her cheeks. She sat silently staring at her hands. With clenched fists, Roger leveled his gaze on his father. “Dad?”