No One's Hero (Chadwell Hearts) (10 page)

“You like?” she asks, turning her head to one side, then the other. “It’s just temporary, my mom would kill me otherwise, but I think I like it.”

“It looks great. Are your parents strict?”

Her eyes dim, but she shrugs it off. “Sorta. My dad got into a bit of trouble, so he’s not around much right now. She won’t talk about it, but she’s determined my brother Matt and I are going to stay on the right path. Pink stripes would give her fits. Are you sure it looks okay?”

I assure her again that it looks fabulous, and it does. Chelsea would definitely approve. “Hey, do you mind if we take our car?” I tilt my head toward Kevin with a quick jerk, hoping Megan will understand. Agreeing to let him drive was a concession I made in order for him to quit fighting me about going tonight.

Megan responds with a warm, easy smile. “Fine by me, that means I don’t have to worry about staying sober.”

So much for staying on the straight and narrow. Sounds like she didn’t get saddled with a Saturday morning make-up riding lesson. “Who else is coming?” I ask as I follow her down the hall.

“Everyone else is meeting us there, so I’m not really sure who all will show.” She starts rattling off the names of those she invited, and I don’t recognize any of them. “Tanner said he might be a bit late, but that he’d try to make it. He’s got something to do for work first, or something like that.”

I nod, pretending to know who she’s talking about. Kevin holds the door for us, and Megan and I both climb into the backseat. I purposefully ignore him as I climb past him, and ignore the way he lightly puts his hand on my arm. He said all that was necessary earlier, and right now, I don’t care what he’s got to say. At least with Megan here, it’s easy to stay distracted. She’s moved on from talking about who’s likely coming, and is now in the process of ranking the boys who live upstairs in our dorm on a do-ability scale, ranging from last-guy-on-earth to take-me-please.

Megan is obviously the definition of boy crazy—and I should know—but she doesn’t seem to take herself too seriously, and I like that. She’s easy to talk to, and impossible to ignore.

“What about me?” Kevin asks from the front seat, grinning in the review mirror at us. “Where do I rate?”

Megan glances at me, then back to the front before giggling. “Off limits.”

Kevin smirks. “I said me, not her.”

Ugh, what’s wrong with him? I don’t care how much he’s determined to keep me from having fun tonight, I’m just as determined to have it, and I’m not going to let him win.

Megan, not understanding the undercurrent of Kevin’s words, smiles at me. “Oh? Have you got your eye on someone already?” she asks as we pull up outside the club and ease into a parking space. “Tanner will be disappointed.”

“Wait here,” Kevin barks from the front.

I’m distracted enough by Megan’s statement to listen. “Huh? Who’s Tanner?”

Megan smiles sweetly, and I suddenly worry that I’m being set up. The door beside me opens and Kevin beckons us out. “All clear.”

Walking to the club’s entrance, I shiver, briefly wondering if I should have picked a shirt that covered a bit more, or brought a jacket. The September days are beautiful and warm, but the nights are cool, and my tank doesn’t offer any protection. I shrug away as Kevin tries to drape his jacket over my shoulders. Sweet or not, I know he’s dying to cover up a bit more of my skin, and I’d rather freeze. There’s a sparkle of laughter in Megan’s eyes, but she doesn’t say anything.

After the bouncer checks our IDs and stamps Megan’s and my hands—under twenty-one—we’re let inside. The interior of the club is mostly dark, and beside me I feel Kevin stiffen. Good, let him work a bit for that hefty paycheck I’m sure Axel is giving him. Megan grabs my arm, directing me to an area on the far side of the room. The club is divided into three distinct sections. In the center of the room, a large bar is illuminated by a neon glow that radiates from the rims of the counters, which rhythmically pulse and flash in time to the lights on the stage at the far front of the room where a DJ fills the entire place with thumping music that seeps from the speakers directly into the bloodstream of the club-goers. You can’t help but feel the energy pulsing. The space between the bar and the stage is set aside for dancing beneath the haze of the lights and the intermittent bursts from the fog machines that are on each side.

The wings of the room are filled by loveseats and chairs, sprinkled around tall, circular tables where dancers can take a break, catch their breath, or chat. This is where we head, but to get there we have to weave through the crowd waiting beside the bar for their chance to order a drink. I can feel Kevin’s nervousness as he grabs my arm, keeping me close to him in the throng. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” He asks as Melody puts her purse on a table, effectively claiming it as ours.

I don’t look at him before shaking my head. “I don’t really think that’s necessary. Don’t you think you’ve said enough?” Okay, so maybe his statement earlier stung more than I realized. I force my shoulders to ease as I turn and offer him a tentative smile. “Really, everything’s fine, we don’t need to have this talk. We’re good.” I think he’s said more than enough.

Kevin seems to be frozen for a moment, weighing his options. Accepting ‘no’ doesn’t really fit with what I’ve learned of his nature, but what guy wants to apologize when given a way out? His eyes lighten, and it’s clear he’s come to a decision. “All right then. If not a talk, how about a dance?” He stretches one hand toward me, palm up, waiting for my answer.

—-♥—-

K
evin

She’s wavering, I can tell. It seems the secret to getting Lexi to do what you want is to give her what she wants and wrap it up in self-centered packaging. It sounds easy, and it should result in both of us being happy, but it’s not. I’m pretty sure it’s going to mean at least one of us is doomed, because the more she rewards me with that smile, the more I want to see it. It would be all too easy to forget my purpose here and focus only on making her happy, but I can’t go down that road again. I’ve got to stay on my guard.

So why am I asking her to dance, just so I can hold her close enough to talk?

Because I’m a fucking idiot.

Before I can withdraw the invitation, her hand is in mine—small, light, and slightly clammy with nerves. Holy hell she’s adorable. She has no fear at racing down a farm road, too fast for her own good, or riding on the back of a thousand-pound, unpredictable animal, but the prospect of one dance in a dimly lit club has her on edge and unsure of herself. I thought this was what she came here for?

Finally past that crowded-ass bar that’s going to make my night a living hell, we reach the dance floor, and I spin toward her, then stop, transfixed in this devil-girl’s spell. Because she looks...breakable. Lexi sucks her lower lip in between her teeth and then lifts her eyes to mine. “I...I don’t know how to do this,” she mumbles.

“Do what?” I ask, honestly confused.

Her cheeks turn crimson. “Dance.”

Unbelievable. “You’ve never danced before?” How is that possible? Aren’t homecoming, prom, and the like staples of every high-school education? But then I remember the things Axel told me about her—how she spent all her free time working at the farm, saving up whatever money she could. And it probably didn’t help that we’d ensured most of the student body of the male persuasion was afraid to come within a ten-foot radius of her. So great, this adorable awkwardness that’s now going to endear her to every red-blooded college jackass who discovers her is also sort of my fault. I’ve been screwing up with Lexi since before I even knew her, and now, all I can think about doing is finding a way to fix it. She’s right. She needs to be given a chance to live—truly live—and I’m just going to have to figure out how to make that safe for her.

A tiny tug on her hands pulls her against me, and I try to ignore how fucking good that feels. She’s perfect, and I’m toast. My hands glide around her waist, my fingers tingling with the desire to slip beneath the flimsy fabric she’s trying to pass off as a shirt. “It’s easy.” I smile, trying to put her at ease. “Just let the music move you.” At first she’s stiff and fights me, but then her eyes begin to droop, and her hips start to sway on their own, with hardly any guidance from me. The music picks up and she presses closer, shimmying and swaying to the beat, sending a fire burning straight through to my dick.

Thank God the song ends, dropping to a much slower but still intoxicating number that leaves me with no choice but to keep my arms around her, swaying. At least the slow song will give us a chance to talk. “About what I said back at the room—I know you said I didn’t need to say anything, but please, humor me. Lexi, I’m sorry. Truly.”

She’s quiet a moment, studying me. At last, she nods, to herself more than to me. “All right, if you mean it, then I forgive you. It’s water under the bridge.”

“That easy, huh?” I really figured she would make me work harder for it, but I should have known better. Beneath her desperate-to-be-loved exterior, Lexi has a good soul. She’s kind, and has spent her entire life catering to the needs of others. Why should I, and now, be any different? I suddenly feel even guiltier.

She nods again. “I know you meant well, and I know I probably come off like a fool. But it isn’t that I don’t value myself, Kevin, I do. I’ve just been valued a little too much, for reasons that are at war with who I want to be. I need this part of my life to be less about placing heavy value on who I am, and who I’m going to be, and instead be a little more light-hearted. I guess it’s like all my life I’ve been wanted just because of my sister’s absence. I need to feel wanted for nothing more than what someone can see of me, before I can care if they like what they see underneath.”

Oh, they can definitely see,
I inwardly grumble even as my eyes dip down to her plunging neckline without my permission. As messed up as it is, though, I get what she’s saying. Lexi doesn’t know who she is or what she wants. She’s spent her life as the one who lived, living for the one who died. And that’s so much pressure—something I more than understand.  “I get that.” It’s a tragedy that this beautiful, lively girl has never been given the chance to spread her wings. Part of me wants to help her with that. At least until Axel kills me. But Axel be damned. Somehow, Lexi is becoming more than a job to me. Maybe as she learns to live, I can remember how to as well.  And at least I’ll be there to catch her when she inevitably falls. Maybe through this I can make up for my past mistakes.

The effortless way we’re moving together is building to something, something I don’t want to fight. I’d be stupid if I didn’t realize what was happening, and more stupid if I stopped it. Her head tilts up toward me, and her lips part, slightly opened. I think she feels it too. The music, the moment, we’re falling over a cliff and neither of us is willing to reach out for a safety rope. My God, I came here to save her, but I think Lexi may be the one to save me.

I lower my head, about to brush her lips with mine, when she spins away. What the fuck? For a moment the world is titled, skewed on its axis as I struggle to get a hold of myself. Blinking, I realize what happened. Megan is standing beside Lexi and she startled her, tapping her on the shoulder. My heart, along with my hopes, sinks like a lead bullet in a bucket. I almost fucked up. Again. What if that hadn’t been Megan that approached? I was completely captivated by Lexi, and caught off guard, unaware.

That can’t happen again.

I won’t let it.

Megan’s talking animatedly to Lexi, gesturing back toward our table. “A couple other people are here. Wendy and Charlotte so far. And Tanner.”

Lexi swallows hard. “Okay. We’ll be over in a minute, if that’s all right?” She glances pointedly in my direction.

“Oh of course, sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Meg scurries away after giving Lexi a sheepish look.

Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, the moment between us is gone. At least for me.

Lexi presses close against me again, and her warmth is cloying, threatening to overwhelm me with things I can’t feel. “Sorry about that.” She lifts her face to me expectantly.

Hating myself, I put my hands on her shoulders and take a step back. “Don’t be. I shouldn’t have let myself get carried away. It puts you at too much risk and it won’t happen again.” My voice is hard—maybe harder than it needs to be—but I’ve got to convince not only her, but myself. It doesn’t matter if I want Lexi. Lexi needs me to do my job, and keep her safe. This, whatever I’m feeling, whatever was happening between us, is over.

—-♥—-

L
exi

My heart is attempting to burst out of my chest, threatening to leave a gaping hole that will let me collapse into an ooey-gooey-I’m-falling-for-the-sexy-boy-who-hates-me puddle. At the same time, my emotions are racing like a Nascar driver trying to conserve fuel—careening ahead, but pulling back to protect myself from the inevitable moment where I don’t have enough left to give. I’m falling for Kevin and he’s... I don’t know what. Using me to propel himself forward out of whatever self-imposed prison he’s been living in, maybe? I’ve seen the way he looks when he thinks I’m not looking. Something in him is dark and haunted, and maybe that’s all this is.

I desperately hope I misunderstood. Maybe I’m not really falling. Maybe I just want something I’ve never had and he’s...he’s what? Hot. That much is easy to see. Tormented, too. A little too gruff, but always there for me. So why am I so determined to hate him? He constantly does little things to make me happy. Giving in about the dorm without too much of a fight. Searching for my stuff. Getting me drinks when I’m in a hurry. That’s got to be more than just a job, right? Giving in to an urge, I reach out, intending to lightly touch his cheek. “Kevin, wait—”

My hand doesn’t make it there. His fingers snap out quickly, striking with the speed of one highly trained, grabbing my wrist with enough force to stop me, and yet enough gentleness that I feel no pain—not physically at least. “No. Don’t do this to yourself. You should go visit with your friends.” He jerks his head coolly toward our table, but only once I nod in submission does he release me, peeling his fingers away from my skin, yet leaving the feel of him branded around my wrist. The sudden feelings churning within me shackle me just as his hand just did.