The Rules of Regret (11 page)

I
didn
’
t
know how he did it, how he stayed controlled and collected, because I was
bordering on ravenous and wanted to tear and claw at him. Maybe it was because
he was still asleep
—
still
in that dream-like limbo
—
so
his movements were light and airy just as they should be. I clenched my
fingers, curled my toes, and regained my bearings.

Drawing
back slightly, Torin pushed his full lips to mine again, and whispered,
“
G
’
night, Darby,
”
softly against my cheek, his light
breath caressing my skin.

With
what I hoped to be my most convincing act yet, I muttered,
“
Goodnight, Lance,
”
and rolled to my side of the bag.

CHAPTER EIGHT

“
I have something to confess, Darby.
”

It
was early
—
like
butt-crack of dawn early
—
but
Torin had obviously been up for a while. The fresh fillet skewered over the
fire kind of hinted at that. He must be a morning person, and a cook at that.

I,
on the other hand, had just emerged from the sleep sack, my hair ratted and
tangled around my shoulders like a lion
’
s
untamed mane. I finger combed it wildly, ripping my hands through the frizzy
stands. But the fact that I was going on day two without a shower, good teeth
brushing, or deodorant application kind of defeated any attempt at making
myself presentable. I was an utter mess that could probably be smelled from a
mile away.

“
Sleep well?
”
Torin glanced up at me from the fire
as he rotated the fish like a rotisserie. His hair was tousled and unkempt,
strands jutting every which way, but it looked good on him. In fact, the more
time we spent out here, the better looking he got. Maybe that
’
s what happened when you were in your
element. If that was the case, I probably looked about as good as Medusa and
her snaky mess of twisted hair.

“
I slept okay.
”
I dropped down onto a log across
from him and swiped the back of my hand across my eyes. Sunlight filtered
through the hedge of evergreen around us, creating star-like bursts that
twinkled into the morning atmosphere. It was a gorgeous dawn, but one I would
probably have appreciated more if I wasn
’
t
so tired, disoriented, and completely confused.

“
You have a confession?
”
I asked, hoping with all my being it
didn
’
t
have anything to do with last night
’
s
sleep-kiss. There were people who talked in their sleep, people who walked in their
sleep, and even people who snored. Making out was not something I
’
d heard before. We just might have
made up an entirely separate category of embarrassing sleep issues.

“
Yes,
”
he replied, stoking the fire with a
pointed stick he had probably whittled by hand. The embers glowed against the
charcoal-colored logs that hissed and popped as he poked at it.
“
I lied to you yesterday.
”
His green eyes lifted to mine,
hovering once they met.
“
When
I said you had to wear your swimsuit.
”

I
stared at him blankly through the screen of smoke between us.

“
Your clothes probably would have
dried just as well on you as off of you.
”

“
You perverted little creep,
”
I teased, folding my arms across my
chest in false disgust, because I really wasn
’
t disgusted at all. In fact, it made
everything that happened last night start to make sense.
“
So you just wanted to get my clothes
off?
”

Torin
smirked, then averted his eyes.
“
Um,
yeah,
”
he defended. I
’
d
think he was blushing if I didn
’
t
already know that his cheeks were typically that rosy.
“
Of course. I mean seriously, a girl
in hiking boots and a bikini? That
’
s
like teenage dream material right there. I think I may even have had a poster
like that pinned to my wall when I was younger.
”

“
But I thought I wasn
’
t your type.
”
I drug my fingers across my scalp
again, loosening the knots that tangled at my hairline.
“
I thought I was... what did you say?
Crazy and off limits?
”

“
You are,
”
Torin said, nodding his head
swiftly.
“
But
I mentioned before that I kinda dig crazy.
”

“
Just to be clear, what about me is
crazy? Not that I don
’
t
feel that way sometimes,
”
(
always)
,
“
I just didn
’
t know it was so blatantly obvious to
the casual outsider.
”
I played with my cuticles, pushing them back nervously because, for some
reason, talking to Torin made me nervous today. Yesterday was fine, but things
changed. Like somehow even talking was dangerous because it also involved that
dangerous mouth of his. I got myself into quite a lot of trouble with that
mouth last night. I really needed to watch myself today.

“
First off,
”
Torin started, raising his index
finger.
“
I
’
m not a casual outsider. I slept with
you last night, Darby.
”
I knew what he meant by his statement, but the innuendo was all too clear and
made me giggle like I was in junior high and wasn
’
t mature enough for a conversation
like this. Maybe I wasn
’
t.
I covered my mouth to trap the laughter in.
“
Second, it wasn
’
t entirely obvious.
”

“
I assume an answer detailing my
craziness is forthcoming,
”
I interrupted.

“
You
’
re an impatient one, aren
’
t you?
”

“
All of us crazies are. It adds to the
crazy
—
the
nervous impatience. Foot tapping, nail biting, pacing. I
’
m well practiced in all of those.
Bolsters the whole shtick.
”

Torin
laughed and dropped his head in a way that I found incredibly adorable, which
made me mad because I didn
’
t
want to find him adorable. I was still holding out hope for the whole jerk
thing to come to fruition.

“
There are three reasons why I think
you are a touch crazy. In the past, I
’
ve
found that if you have three facts of supporting evidence, your theory usually
holds true.
”

“
Your first piece of evidence.
”
I waved a hand toward him, motioning
him to begin laying out his body of proof.

“
You have been with the same guy since
you were thirteen.
Thirteen
, Darby.
That is insane on multiple counts. I mean, seriously, I cannot name one thing I
liked when I was thirteen that I still like now.
”

“
Posters of hot girls in bikinis,
”
I interjected. He blushed.

“
I had that when I was fifteen. And I
don
’
t
like the posters anymore. I prefer the real thing.
”

“
Gotcha.
”
Was it weird that I sort of hoped he
considered me the
“
real
thing
”
?

“
So the fact that you
’
re still in love with someone that
you fell in love with when you were a mere adolescent makes you a tad bit
crazy, sorry to say.
”

“
Noted. And your other evidence?
”

“
You don
’
t act like a college chick, let alone
a chick that goes to one of the most prestigious schools in the nation. In all
honestly, you talk and act like you
’
re
still thirteen. Like you
’
re
stuck in some immature space of time when Lance
—
or someone
—
took over your
life.
”

I
wanted to be mad at him for making such an all-encompassing, flippant
observation of me. But he was kind of right in his assumption
—
at least half-right
—
so being mad felt
like an unfair expression, just like calling him a jerk was an unfair label.
And he didn
’
t
know the whole story. It felt wrong to be mad at him when he didn
’
t have all the facts.

“
To be honest,
”
I began, playing defense,
“
I don
’
t always act that way. Around Lance
it
’
s
all keeping up appearances and playing the supportive girlfriend part. I
’
ve been primed to be the perfect
politician
’
s
arm candy.
”
And it was true; my soon-to-be sister in law had already given me several
extensive lessons on this.
“
I
’
ve never been on my own adventure
without him. The last time I was by myself was when I was thirteen. Thirteen
wasn
’
t
a good year for me.
”
I toed at the dirt with my shoe, drawing lines and circles in the dust
underneath it.

“
Don
’
t get me wrong. I really like Darby,
WL.
”

My
curiosity was plain on my face as my eyes lifted to his.

“
Without Lance,
”
he clarified, smiling. His green
eyes were playful and looked way too alert and awake for as early as it was.
“
She
’
s a bit crazy and immature
—”

“
And stubborn.
”

He
smiled again.
“
Yes,
and stubborn. But I like her. But I think I
’
d like the nineteen-year-old version
of her, too.
”

“
I think this
is
the nineteen-year-old version. Believe me, the thirteen-year-old
prototype was incredibly flat chested with bad teeth and knobby knees. They
’
ve made some major improvements to
the body and frame of the 2013 model.
”

Torin
chuckled while shaking his head.
“
You
’
re only adding to my case, Darby.
”
Which I was, however
unintentionally.
“
Talking
about yourself like you
’
re
a car.
”

“
Is that your third piece of evidence?
”

“
No. There
’
s more.
”
Of course there was.
“
You said being one of eight kids was
like having eight television shows playing all at once.
”

“
Right, and I
’
m still proud of that analogy. It
’
s a pretty darn good one.
”

“
As you should be,
”
he agreed,
“
but it
’
s weird to describe your life as
something that
’
s
scripted. Life isn
’
t
scripted, Darby. Life is fluid. It
’
s
changing. It fluctuates.
”

“
Maybe your life, Torin.
”
Because I was sure his was. I bet
every day at Quarry Summit was a new adventure waiting to be written.
“
But mine isn
’
t anymore and that
’
s how I want it.
”
That
’
s how I needed it
.
“
I can tell you with certainty exactly
how my life will play out. I
’
ve
got a plan.
”

“
And that is crazy point number three:
if you really do think life is scripted, you
’
ve given someone else the pen to
write your own story.
”
He was still crouched down by the fire like a catcher waiting for the pitch. He
balanced on his toes and tipped his head toward his right shoulder.
“
How can you give up authorship to
something so important? Don
’
t
you regret doing that?
”