Perfectly Flawed (35 page)

And Five Finger Death Punch wasn’t helping
the mood.

Just like that, just when that thought became
the truth, just when the need burned into
want
, just when
desire took over, I knew from this moment on, I was safe.

I look to him, leaning closer, slowly edging
nearer. Was I really going to do it? Closer, I moved until my body
was sure of itself and its destination. Lifting my gaze, I looked
into his eyes, chocolate brown with flecks of warm honey, and I
knew once again I was safe. He wasn’t Ryder, he couldn’t hurt me
like Ryder, he’d never be Ryder, and that’s when I knew what I
wanted, more than anything else in the world.

Him.

Edging closer until my shoulder pressed
against his, I looked up, catching his startled expression, worried
that
I
was worried. Shoving that from my mind, I let my
hands wander. From his stomach, warm and smooth, up his chest, my
fingers gliding around his neck, linking together.
This is what
he feels like?
I felt his hand slide up and down my back. I
turn my head, looking into his familiar eyes, at the lips that have
only tormented me, joked with me, just been Zephyr’s for as long as
I can remember. Now, they were closer to mine than they’d ever been
before. And I wanted them closer.

I closed the distance between us, pressing my
lips firmly against his. His lips felt soft and warm against mine,
not how Ryder’s felt. This, I know, can wipe it away, everything
Ryder did, and this can erase it permanently. Zephyr’s are
welcoming and I want to continue the kiss.

The moment our lips make contact, Zephyr
takes a deep breath and tugs me closer until I’m straddling his
lap. His hands slink up the hem of my shirt, his fingertips finding
skin and shooting fire through me. I’m on fire—this is fire. This
moment is pure electricity, buzzing through me. I can’t pull away.
I can’t. But…

As fast as I did it, I pulled away faster,
amazed at myself. It was wonderful, it was brief, and it was my way
of telling him that I, too, loved him. I have always loved him; it
just took me longer to realize it and longer to quit lying to
myself about it.

I shy away, backing from his lap to the
safety of my side of the room. His eyes widen when I look up at him
through my lashes.

“What was that?” he asks, breathless. “We’re
having a serious discussion here.”

“If you don’t know then you’re the dumbest
smart person
I
know.” I let out a nervous giggle, fidgeting
with my hands. This makes me so nervous. I can feel his gaze on me,
warming me, as he watches my hands in my lap. Maybe he didn’t like
it. I’ve never really kissed anyone, which sounds pathetic. I mean,
I’m sixteen, and the first kiss I ever received, I didn’t want. I
want this one to count.

“I’m not that smart.” He reaches his hand out
to cover mine, his thumb caressing the top of my hand. He lightly
grips and pulls me closer to him, letting me lean against him with
my head in the crook of his neck.

“Shut up,” I jokingly demand. “Don’t ruin the
moment,” I counter, loving the feel of his hands on my back, the
soothing circles they make.

“We’re having a moment?” he whispers near my
ear, his warm breath sending chills down my spine.

I push him away, leaning back to glare at his
smirking face. “If you let me explain, jackass.”

“There’s my Joey.” He chuckles lightly, his
hand reaches up to move a strand of hair behind my ear. “Go ahead;
tell me how stupid I am.”

Don’t tempt me, dude
.

With my eyes narrowed, I respond with, “I
think I did.”

His mouth splits into a wide grin. “That you
did.”

“Zephyr, you’re the most annoying person I’ve
ever met,” I start, making him laugh. “You’re also the most
important person in the world to me.” I run my hand through my
hair, tugging it over my left shoulder.

“But…” he draws it out slowly, as if I might
say something worse, maybe telling him this could never happen. I
don’t know what runs through his mind.

“Stop it,” I demand, lightly smacking him in
the arm. “You swoop in to take hugs meant for me when I can’t force
myself to act like a normal human being, you break into my house
just to pull me away from dark, clinging nightmares, you punch
people that say they’ve slept with me then call me a psycho, and
you are just my… I don’t know.” I stop and think for a moment, the
best thing to describe what Zephyr is to me. “You’re my snowflake;
you’re my one in a million.” A blush crawls up my neck. “And I love
you, too,” I tell him, wrapping my arms tightly around his body,
loving the feel of my arms around him. I’m hugging someone and I
don’t want to run away. “I’ve loved you since you were suspended
for punching Bobby Logan. You went against Goliath for me and you
won. You won this time, too.” But Ryder certainly is no
Goliath.

“I did, didn’t I?” Even his gloating is
getting cuter to me.

“You are so ruining the moment,” I jokingly
whine.

He bursts into laughter.

“Then continue if you must,” he states,
letting his hand thread through my curls. “Tell me why I’m epic and
awesome and how you can’t live without me.”

“This is about to be an epic fail, isn’t it?”
I ask, feeling Zephyr laugh.

“Not at all,” he replies, matter-of-factly.
“Just continue talking about my awesomeness.”

“I could,” I say, taking a deep breath,
smelling simply Zephyr. “But then your ego would inflate too much
for my liking.”

He smiles before inching closer, his nose
nuzzling behind my ear. “I’m going to kiss you, now.” His words
warm my blood.

And he does.

His hands reach up, framing my face, as he
brushes his lips briefly against mine, teasing me before he covers
my mouth with his. Tenderly at first, then deeper, pulling me
closer, wanting me closer. And,
oh
, I want him. My world
starts to slowly deteriorate, leaving only Zephyr and me and our
connection, and my head begins to spin. I feel like I’m on a
speeding carousel, spinning and holding on for dear life. This is
the kind of kiss girls’ dream of, the ones at the end of those
cheesy romance movies most likely written by Nicholas Sparks that
other girls love. Okay, the ones I love, too. Only this one puts
those to shame.

Or it did before Zephyr pulled away.

So… an excruciatingly chaste version of those
kisses.

I’m so lightheaded; I need to take a minute
to catch my breath. Zephyr leans forward, resting his forehead
against mine.

“What’s that?” I ask when my head stops
spinning—it takes a few moments but I need to change the subject
before I jump him. My eyes are set to the painting and I feel like
I know the girl shying away from me—her hazel eyes, her long, dark
brown curls, her fondness for the color green.

Wait a minute…

“What? That?” he asks, nervously. We’ve
pulled apart and focused our attention on the painting. He
scratches the back of his head while avoiding my eyes. “It’s a
painting I’ve been working on for a few weeks,” he answers vaguely,
cryptically.

“It’s me,” I say, crawling toward it. I can
see my smile, my freckles, the birthmark on the side of my neck.
The eyes are so beautiful, so mesmerizing, I can’t help but think
that he got those wrong. Those can’t be my eyes.

I reach out my hand to touch it, to feel the
beauty, but I instantly retract my hand before I touch it. I don’t
want to ruin it.

“Yeah,” he answers. “It’s cool if you don’t
like it; I just like to paint you from time to time.”

I snort. “That doesn’t sound creepy at all,”
I sarcastically tell him.

“You’re my muse, Jo.” That tugs at my heart.
“So you don’t like it?” he tentatively asks, kneeling next to me as
I examine his artwork.

“Don’t like it?” I ask. “I love it,” I tell
him.

Zephyr looks visibly relieved. “That’s good
to hear.”

I laugh, reaching out to touch the piece
leaning against the wall. It’s so beautiful that I’ll never believe
it’s me. I can’t believe that’s how sees me, I look so carefree and
happy—I look so different.

We spend the rest of the evening lounging on
his floor—taking brief kissing breaks, because we can, now—talking
about the painting and others he’s done. I wasn’t expecting there
to be more but he tells me he has plenty of paintings of me. Most
of them are hidden in the attic. That makes me laugh. Eventually, I
have to head home. I do have school in the morning, and the rest of
the week.

“Just so you know,” he tells me as he walks
me down the stairs, his fingers laced with mine. He finally put on
a shirt—about two minutes before making this trip. “I
am
calling you my girlfriend,” he states, matter-of-factly, with a
shrug.

“As long as I can call you my boyfriend,” I
counter.

“I think that can be arranged.”

“
Disgusting
,” Jamie calls from the
couch, a giggle quickly following. “I swear you’re the only guy
that can get suspended
and
a girlfriend in the same
day.”

Zephyr smiles, never taking his eyes away
from me. “This was just luck,” he tells her, raising our
intertwined hands.

“And I’m happy you two are finally together,”
she comments. “It was pathetic watching you two around each other.
It was so obvious to everyone but the two of you.”

Was it?

Like, seriously?

With that, and a not-so-quick kiss, I head
home, ready to
get
ready for bed. I’m in a much better mood
than when I left but who knows how long that’s going to last.

I slowly open the door and slink inside,
trying to make myself as small as possible. Maybe, this time,
Hilary is upstairs, in bed. I don’t think she went to work today.
I’m not sure if she even had to work today, I lost track of her
schedule a long time ago.

“Joey?”

Obviously, I’m just going to be very wrong
about things today.

“Yeah, it’s me,” I say when I lock the door
behind me.

Who else would it be?

“Look, I just wanted to apologize for
earlier,” my aunt starts when I walk into the kitchen. She’s
sitting at the dining room table, nothing in front of her, just
sitting with her hands folded.

“No, I’m sorry—”

“Let me finish,” Hilary cuts me off. “I’m
sorry that you feel like I don’t want you.” I guess we’re getting
straight to the point tonight. That’s good; really, I’m just not
very good with hard honesty. I take a seat across from her.

“Honestly, I don’t feel like that, Aunt
Hil.”

“Just let me finish, hon.” She takes a deep
breath, tucking an orange lock of hair behind her ear. “I may not
be your mother, I could never replace a woman that wonderful
anyway, but I love you just the same. I care about you, I will
always protect you like my own, not because I feel like I need to
replace your mother, not because it’s my responsibility, but
because I love you
as if
you were mine. I’m still
fun
Aunt Hil
, I’m still the one that’ll take you get your second
tattoo—since I missed the first. I’m still the one that’ll take you
to get whatever piercing you want—provided it’s above the belt.” I
giggle at that. “I love you, Joey.”

“I know that, Auntie.”

She releases a sigh, looking relieved. She
must have been practicing that entire speech in her head while I
was over at Zephyr’s.

“I’m hugging you,” she announces, bounding
from her seat with her arms outstretched. “Don’t try to squirm
away.”

Hugs no longer scare me. It’s a welcome
feeling not to feel the need to flee when she stretches out her
arms to embrace me.

“I’ll accept your hug,” I tell her as I
willingly dive into her arms, feeling the warmth a love surround
me. Is this what it feels like to have a mother? This has to be
what it feels like to have someone that loves you.

“So… is this one of those teen moments that
I’ve heard a lot about?” Hilary asks with her arms circled around
me.

“I don’t know,” I sputter. “You’re asking the
teen.”

“I think I was worse at your age.”

“That’s what Grammy and Grandpa say,” I tell
her, remembering all the stories that my grandparents told me about
my mom and Hilary when they were my age. They even broke out photo
albums and home movies. But those are stories for another night;
I’m tired and I really want to crawl into bed. The thought of my
sheets surrounding me makes me smile and I honestly can’t wait to
dive beneath them.

“I’m going to bed,” I tell my aunt, pulling
away. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“See you then.” She reaches up to smooth down
my hair before I stand up from the dining room table, walk through
the living room, and ascend the stairs.

I stop by the bathroom and brush my teeth,
still feeling Zephyr’s lips against mine. My room is dark when I
step into it; the air from the open window is cool against my legs
as I dress for bed. Grabbing my favorite pair of sleep
shorts—pink-and-black plaid—and tugging my shirt from my head, I
walk to the window to slide it closed.

“Good night,” Zephyr calls from his room,
looking at me from his bed. His light is on, illuminating him as he
lounges against his pillows… shirtless once again.

I’ll admit it; I swooned at the sight. But I
didn’t make it obvious.

“Night,” I call back, deciding to leave my
window open for the night.

***

My first full day as Zephyr’s girlfriend—I’d
like to say it was full of excitement and fun, maybe a little
naughty business (trust me, I can’t believe I said that, either),
it wasn’t. While the morning was good—Zephyr made a brief
appearance—the rest of my day was just… normal. Although, a
slightly better normal
than
normal.

Well, except for one thing that happened
after lunch…

Okay, so I wasn’t exactly expecting fireworks
or a parade, but I was happy, damn it, and I wanted everyone as
freaking happy and cheerful as I felt. I mean, come on, it’s a rare
occurrence and it could end at any time. Someone simply looking at
me wrong could piss me off.