Out Of The Ashes (9 page)

“Paige is the strongest person I know. She’s handled every shitty thing life has thrown her way. But you, Clay…I have a feeling you could have the power to break her. Please don’t do it.”

There it was. I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of asking Gillian before. Of course she would know what was going on with Paige.

“Gill, you have to tell me. I need to be on an even playing field here. What has Paige been through? What am I missing? Why is she all scarred up?”

I pleaded with her, hoping to God that she would give me something that would help me understand Paige’s reluctance and pain.

She shook her head. “I can’t give you any of that, Clay. God, I hope she will, though. I hope she’s able to open up and share this with you, because she needs to. She needs to share it and then move past it or it will destroy her.”

I sucked in a breath. Maybe Paige’s secrets were worse than anything I could have imagined. I nodded once, and headed toward the apartment where Paige waited for me.

I rapped twice on the door and waited.

When she opened it, her eyebrows lifted and her mouth formed a cute little “O.”

“I told you I was coming,” I greeted her. “Let me in, please.”

I drank her in as she stood there leaning on the doorjamb. The tight black yoga pants she was wearing clung to her petite, shapely legs. Her feet were bare with pink toenails peeking out from beneath the hem of her pants. And the piercing look in her green eyes was almost enough to send me crashing into her.

I stood my ground though, and merely looked at her.

“How’s your ankle?” she asked. She stepped back from the door and allowed me to enter.

“Painful,” I answered. “But it’s nothing compared to how awful I feel about what happened to you today. I’m so sorry, Paige. Hannah was so drunk that night, I didn’t even know she had paid enough attention to you to seek you out on campus.”

She eyeballed me for a moment, hesitating. Then she sighed heavily.

“She didn’t have to seek me out. We’re in the same Theater Appreciation class. And she wasn’t as drunk as you think that night.”

My mouth dropped open. “Shit,” I breathed. “I never expected you’d have a class with her.”

My eyes narrowed. “And how do you know she wasn’t that drunk?”

She shrugged her slim shoulders. “I just do.”

“I’m going to put a stop to her, Paige. I’m going to tell her exactly where she and I stand.”

“Where is that, exactly?” she asked, dropping wearily onto the couch.

I sat down next to her and placed my crutches nearby on the floor. When I turned to face her, her eyes bored into mine.

“Exactly what I told you before. It hasn’t changed. Hannah was there on the nights that I felt lonely and needed a body next to me. I think she thought that we’d end up as something more, and I didn’t exactly discourage that because I needed her to keep coming back for more of what I wanted. I’m not proud of it, Paige. But that’s the kind of guy I was before I met you. I’m going to tell Hannah everything, because you deserve my full attention and that’s what I’m going to give you. Even if you tell me tonight that what this is between us is over, I’m still going to be straight with Hannah and try like hell to prove myself trustworthy to you.”

She stared at me in silence. I didn’t know what that meant, but the quiet was driving me crazy.

“Are you?” I asked.

“Am I what?”

“Are you going to tell me that whatever this is between us—“ I moved closer to her on the couch and placed my hand on her leg, which trembled beneath my touch—“is over?”

I hoped the look in my eyes told her exactly how horrible it would make me feel if she did, in fact, end this.

“I should,” she said. “I should run with everything I have in me in the exact opposite direction of where you’re standing, Clay Forbes.”

I held my breath, waiting for the rest.

Her hand covered mine, and I glanced down at it. When I looked up again, I saw the smoldering in her eyes, and my heart lifted.

“I’m not,” she answered. She smiled at me, her eyes peeking out behind that dark curtain of hair. “I already took out the chicken for our dinner tonight.”

I laughed, and put my arm around her. I squeezed just a little, to let her know how grateful I was.

“That’s good,” I said. “Because I was starving, and I don’t know what I would have eaten if you decided not to cook for me.”

She slapped my good leg, and I grabbed her hand and held it. I looked into her eyes to make sure she understood me.

“You can trust me, Paige. I promise.”

“I hope so,” she answered softly. “I sure as hell hope so, Clay.”

Thirteen

Paige

It’d taken me forty-five minutes in the grocery store to decide what to cook for Clay. I didn’t have much experience cooking real dinners for other people, but I was darn sure going to try to make it good since I’d asked him over for a meal.

I’d decided on chicken, because everyone liked it. I’d Googled a recipe for chicken and pasta and decided on Marsala. It was relatively easy to make, but still fancy enough to impress someone.

“It’ll be ready in a minute,” I called out to Clay, who was sitting on the couch.

I took in the appearance of his long legs splayed out in front of him. His legs were spread apart and he was leaning back against the cushions while one hand rested behind his head. The other held the glass of fresh lemonade I’d handed him moments before.

I liked the view. I liked the idea of him getting comfortable in my apartment. I let myself envision having him here all the time, having him as a regular fixture in my house, and in my life. It made my body go tingly all over, and I liked the feeling way too much.

“Where’s Gillian tonight?” Clay asked.

I started. He caught me watching him and he was struggling to keep the smile off his face.

“Not sure,” I answered.

I thought she’d wanted to give Clay and I some time alone.

“Went to hang out with some girls she knows, I think.”

“Gotcha,” he answered. “So it’s just us for dinner?”

He had a gleam in his eye that I tried to interpret, and failed. I just didn’t have enough experience to go on with guys to read their minds.

“Uh, yeah…” I replied.

“Like a date?”

Oh. Now I saw where he was going with this.

“Well, if it was, would that be a problem?” I put down my spoon and placed my hands on my hips.

He laughed, and tried gracefully to stand up. It didn’t work with his bum ankle, and he sort of fell back to the couch, muttering a curse.

“It would definitely not be a problem,” he answered. “Want to know something?”

Of course I did. I wanted to know everything about him. “Yes.”

“I’ve been wanting you to see me that way since I met you at the bookstore that day,” he admitted. “And I’ve never tried so hard to get a girl’s attention before.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t imagine you’d have much trouble in that department,” I said thoughtfully. “I just started this year with so much on my mind. I barely even saw anyone that day, much less a potential…dating situation.”

“But…” I said, biting my lip. “I did see you.”

“Yeah?” he asked. “What’d you have on your mind?”

He leaned forward on the couch, his eyes focused intently on me.

I picked up the spoon again, stirring the Marsala sauce now bubbling on the stove. The air was fragrant with Italian seasonings.

“I was just so grateful to be starting school this year,” I answered him. “At one point in my life not so long ago I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be able to. So I wanted to get everything right. You know: my classes, my books, everything. I just didn’t want to mess anything up.”

“Why didn’t you think you’d be able to start school?”

The oven began beeping, and I jumped at the fact I’d just become comfortable enough with Clay to actually tell him about the fire. I shook my head. What was I thinking? That’d be the worst thing I could do. That was way too much for a guy to handle on the first date.

Telling him I’d lost my entire family and almost been burned to death in a fire about a year ago would probably send Clay Forbes running in the opposite direction from me.

Clay

Damn if I didn’t think she’d been about to open up to me, finally. I saw the exact moment, though, when she’d decided it was a mistake. After the oven beeped, she shook her head and a panicked look crossed her face. I’d been worried she’d space out on me and I’d have a fight on my hands to get her to come back.

Now, as I watched her serve me a plate of delicious-smelling food on the coffee table in front of me, I knew the moment was over and I’d better not bring the subject up again.

“This is amazing,” I praised, rapidly chewing the mouthful I’d just shoveled in.

She smiled, pleased by the fact I’d complimented her food. “Thanks. I don’t cook much. I got the recipe off of Google.”

“Well, any time you want to practice your skills on me, I’m game. My mom’s a great cook, and I always miss it while I’m away at college.”

“Well, this is your last year, right? Are you going to move back home after this, or do you have other plans?”

“I definitely don’t plan on moving back home. I’m originally from Ohio. But I really like it down here in the South. Especially now.”

I glanced pointedly at her, and then back down at my plate of food.

“It’s our accents,” she said slyly.

She studied me, her head tilted to one side.

“What?” I asked her.

“I’m just trying to figure out if you really are this sweet, or if you’re feeding me lines. I haven’t had enough experiences to compare this one to. And sometimes you seem a little too good to be true.”

Her honesty affected me. “Yeah? Why wouldn’t you have had more experiences to go on? Didn’t you date much in high school?”

“I had one boyfriend in high school, and it only lasted a year. We went our separate ways after…we broke up and then that was it.”

“Okay,” I answered. “Well here’s the truth. I have never had a problem getting girls to do what I want them to, or getting the attention I wanted. But I’m not running game on you here, Paige. I just want to know you. I feel it more every day.”

She blushed, and the rose-colored tinge against her skin intoxicated me. She caught me staring and dropped her head, hiding behind her hair.

I leaned forward and set my plate down on the table. When I was free of it I leaned in toward her. I couldn’t sit there any longer without kissing her.

That’s when we heard the patter of rain outside, and Paige jumped up.

“Crap! My windows! My windows are down in my car, and it’s pouring out!” She rushed for the door.

“Wait, Paige, I’ll go—“ I bent to grab my crutches, but I wasn’t fast enough with the damn bum ankle. She was out the door before I could manage to hobble after her.

I sank back into the cushions and groaned. Paige was irresistible to me. I wasn’t sure if she was ready for me to make a move tonight, but I couldn’t help wanting to touch her. I wanted to feel her lips on mine again, and pour all of those emotions inside of her right into me.

The door opened, and she walked back inside. Her shoes were squishing as she walked, and I looked up at her.

She was soaked. It must have been raining harder than I’d thought, because her clothes were stuck to her body. The pink tank top she was wearing was like a second skin now, and her curves were calling my name. I stood without realizing I was doing it, leaning on my good foot.

She stared at me, maybe trying to read the intense expression in my eyes. I stared right back, refusing to be the first to break the connection.

She didn’t look away from me as she said, “I think I should go change.”

She took a couple of steps backward, and then turned and fled down the short hallway to the last door on the left.

Fourteen

Paige

I was a statue in the middle of my room. Shit, shit, shit. The look I had seen in Clay’s eyes was too familiar, because it’s the same look he saw reflected in mine. He wanted me. I don’t know if it was the fact that I had made him dinner, or if he was thinking about the kiss we shared the other night. It had been one hell of a kiss. I’d never experienced anything like it, and I knew that being with Clay intimately would be heavenly.

It would also change me in ways I wasn’t ready for.

Could I do it? No…the damage the burns did to the skin beneath my clothes was too extensive. I didn’t want anyone to see that. Especially not Clay, with all of his beauty and perfection. I would be hideous to him. And his rejection would kill me.

I looked up, and focused on the full-length mirror standing across the room. Clay’s reflection stared back.

I froze, a statue again as he limped slowly toward me, unhindered by his crutches. He was silent as he stopped behind me, close enough for his warm breath to tickle my neck as he leaned down.