The Weight of Destiny (8 page)

CHAPTER TWELVE

~Ryder~

If I were here with Drea, it would just be normal to share a blanket with her. I wouldn’t give a shit if she knew I was freezing my balls off. Hell, I’d even wrap myself in a blanket with Tanner and Cody if I needed to keep warm. Cold is cold, and they’re my friends. But when Virginia asked me the first time, the shock got pushed away by pride. I didn’t want her to know I was so cold I felt numb. I could handle it.

When she held the blanket out to me a second time, there’s no way I could say no. I can’t even say it’s because of the temperature, either. This girl doesn’t go around sharing a blanket with guys on the beach. She definitely doesn’t do it with guys like me. I got the same feeling in my chest that I did when she gave me her number. I don’t get why a girl like her would care if I’m cold, or if I have wheels when I need them, but she does, and it makes this strange sort of happiness go off inside me—little firecrackers I’ve never experienced.

It’s that unbalanced feeling she gives me that makes me ask, “Why were you out on the dock that night? You don’t do shit like that.”

She takes a deep breath. I feel the fabric of her jacket against my arm. It’s warm, but I would rather it be skin. I wasn’t lying when I said she’s beautiful. She
is.
And the more I’m around her, the more I start to want her.

“How do you know?”

I don’t know…
“Come on, Virginia. You’re stalling. It’s not like I’m going to tell anyone. Hell, it’s not like you can’t tell that everything about me is more fucked up than you doing a little exploring on a dock.” A part of me wants that last sentence back. People knowing who and what I am has never bothered me before, but with her, I suddenly don’t want to draw more attention to the fact that my life is screwed up. Because it is. Even though I’m cool with the life I’ve led, I know it’s fucked up.

“What are you doing out here tonight?”

Ah, so she’s going to respond to a question with one of her own. I don’t really have anything to hide, though. Scratch that. I have shit she doesn’t need to know, but this isn’t one of them. “I got in a fight with my brother. He’s an asshole.”

“What about?” she asks.

There’s a slight twitch in my chest at this question, but nothing too major. “I bought beer and a shit ton of food to celebrate my dad’s birthday. He got pissed and then accused me of selling drugs or stealing everything.”

She shivers, making me wonder if she’s cold or if she’s responding to what I said. Damn…maybe I went too far. I shouldn’t have told her; but then, why does it matter? This is who I am. There’s no changing me, and beautiful or not, I don’t chill with people who give me hell for who I am.

“You brought
beer
into your house for your dad’s birthday? And wait, why wouldn’t your brother want to celebrate?”

I wait for the real question, because I know it’s coming. This time, she doesn’t surprise me.

“Did you? Steal? Or do you sell drugs?”

The fabric of her jacket doesn’t touch my arm anymore. I’m caught between wanting the warmth back and being pissed at her questions. Of course she would assume, just like Luke did. It’s the reaction I expect. She’s a rich girl, and I’m trash. It is what it is.

“It’s not the first time I’ve brought beer into my house, and it probably won’t be the last. My dad doesn’t live with us, and even if he did, he wouldn’t care. He’d drink with me. Luke thinks he’s too good for us, that’s why he didn’t want to celebrate.”

I wait for her to pull the blanket away, too. Wait for her to get up. Wait for her to look at me like she doesn’t know what she’s doing here with me, because I don’t know, either. Or why I’m here with her.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t know. I shouldn’t have asked like that.”

Breath leaves my lungs when her fluffy coat touches my arm again.
What about the last question?
I want to ask her. Doesn’t she want to know if she’s sitting here with a thief or a druggie? Now my anger is aimed her way for a different reason. She should want to know that. She shouldn’t just let that go. Not a girl like her.

“I don’t sell drugs. I didn’t steal the stuff. I sold my hoodie and some other things.”

The light from the lantern flickers in her wide, green eyes. I smell her sweet scent mixed with ocean.

“That’s why you don’t have a jacket on tonight?”

“It’s not a big deal. I’ll get another one.”

Now I’m waiting for something else—to see pity in her eyes. I hate that shit, and I might lose it if she feels bad for me. It doesn’t come, though. There’s something else in her eyes now—it almost looks like respect.

There have only been a few times in my life anyone looked at me like I’d done something important. When I’d jack something for Dad and his guys; when Shane and I beat a few guys’ asses for giving Drea shit.

And now.

What I don’t get is why selling my jacket would make her look at me like I’m something.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask her, but I’m not sure I want the answer. There’s shit I’ve done for Drea and Dad to be proud of me, but there’s nothing I could have done to deserve this girl seeing me that way.

“I always play by the rules. Always.” Her voice is soft. She’s staring downward at the blanket around us instead of at me. I want her eyes my way, but I’m scared if I push it, she’ll stop talking.

There’s never been anything in my life that’s scared me before.

“I need it,” she continues. “I know it sounds ridiculous, and to most people it probably is, but I need stability. I need my plans, and to be in control. Other people do crazy and reckless things. I don’t. I…”

When she doesn’t keep going, I scoot closer to her. It’s probably a stupid thing to do; this girl would be smart to get away from me. But she doesn’t move, so I put my arm around her. My fingers crave skin again, but all I get is the jacket.

The firecrackers start going off for the second time, then slowly—so slowly I’m not even sure she’s really doing it—Virginia lays her head on my shoulder.

I’ve held girls before—I’ve held Drea too many times to count—but it’s never made my body feel like it’s coming alive from the inside out.

“I had to deal with something I haven’t had to see in a long time. It scared me. I knew it was reckless to go out on that dock. I knew it was stupid but still, something inside me wanted to go out there. I didn’t want to get hurt, I just… I felt trapped, and somehow going out there made me feel free. I can’t,” she lifts her head. “I won’t do something like that again. I got it out of my system, and that’s the end of it.”

So many things dance in her eyes, some out in the open, others hiding. Most of it is a mystery to me, but I know there is more to this girl than I thought. She’s dealing with more than she shows the world.

And I suddenly want to be the one she lets inside to see it all. I want to be the one who makes her see it’s okay to live.

“Nothin’ wrong with losing control once in a while, Virginia.”

Letting go of the blanket, I let my right hand touch her cheek, lift her chin so she’s looking at me, and then keep letting it drift back until it makes a home against her neck.

Her skin feels as good as I thought it would—warm and soft. Reckless, in a way I've never experienced. “It can be fun.” Lowering my mouth, I touch my lips to hers.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

~Virginia~

As his mouth covers mine, fear pummels me, a wave going over my head like I’m trapped on a broken dock, scared that I might die. My reflex is to jerk back, to take a breath because air is something I need, and it’s okay to need that.

My vision is lost to anything except blue and brown, the twist in his eyes, the questions there, the comfort. The last part isn’t something I’d expect from a boy like him, and it makes another wave of fear threaten to drown me. But then his thumb brushes my neck and a tingle in my stomach makes my body shiver. It feels so good.
He
feels so good that I forget there’s the worry of drowning.

I lean closer to him, and that’s all the incentive he needs to take my mouth again. His tongue is at my lips, and I’m opening them to let him in. There’s tasting and touching and a twisting together of tongues. I giggle into his mouth at how my thoughts are all coming out in “T” words, and he chuckles as though he hears them.

The laughing lends only a quick interruption, not that I want one, before he’s kissing me again, and it’s all I can feel or think about. It’s all I want to know.

The studs of his piercings press into my skin, not painful, but reminding me they’re there.

He tastes like the air after rain—clean...new and almost like being reborn.

His hand feels big on my neck, but he’s gentle, much gentler than he seems when he tangles his fingers in my hair.

Just like everything is with him, the kiss is intense, urgent, fast moving. It was almost like he was born from the dark, coming out of nowhere the first night we met. Before I knew what was happening, he was there, his voice asking if I was hurt, his hand grabbing me to save me.

His lips are the same; they weren’t there and then they were, and now he’s wrapped around me, lowering me to the beach, a weight that freaks me out while grounding me at the same time.

My body pulses when his warm hand slides under my coat, under my shirt to touch the bare skin of my belly.

“Wait.” The palm of my hand lands on his chest. “Not…not so fast.”

And then his lips are gone. It’s seriously like this guy is a magician or something, the way he’s there and then he’s not.

“Shit. Sorry. Wanted to feel your skin.”

Holy wow. Those words echo through me, a pebble getting thrown into the water, little pulsing waves drifting from where it landed.

It’s then I realize that I really am lying on my back, and he’s lying on top of me. With one of his hands, he pushes the hair out of my face, and I want to ask him how it felt—my skin, that is. He wanted to touch it, and I want to know what it was like. Nothing comes out of my mouth, though. It doesn’t surprise me when he speaks. He says whatever is on his mind all the time. “This is so strange…” His voice has this far-off sound to it.

My body goes tense. “Great. Just what a girl wants to hear when a boy kisses her.”

He smiles, and it makes me smile in return because for the first time, it’s not a cocky grin.

“That’s not what I meant. I just…you’re like this compulsion I don’t understand. It’s like…” He shakes his head and then continues. “If I keep my hands to myself, can I kiss you again?”

I’m not sure what it says about me that he says I’m like a compulsion and then I want him to kiss me again. Maybe I’m more like Mom than I thought. My brain starts going haywire at the thought, memories and fears firing off in rapid succession.

Still, I nod my head and his mouth is moving with mine again, and it somehow quiets the noise inside my head.

Which is wrong. So, so wrong. But I always do what’s right, and that hasn’t helped Mom. It still hasn’t stopped her from creating Amelia and threatening the world I’ve built for myself.

He drops his forehead to mine. “You’re tense. If you don’t want—”

“I want.” There isn’t time to be embarrassed by my declaration before he’s kissing me again. More fresh-air taste. He lets his tongue retreat so mine can venture into his mouth.

I want, I want, I want,
keeps going through my head and I can’t help but try to remember the last time I really wanted something. Something that didn’t revolve around Mom being okay, or keeping our secret, or doing everything in my power not to become a victim of our curse.

I want him. Not to have sex with him I mean, but I want
him
. I wanted to go to that party with him, and I wanted him to use my phone number, and I wanted to see him, which is why I brought him his hoodie. I wanted him to stay when he tried to walk away that first night, and I wanted to see him tonight. Why else did I come here?

There once was a girl named Want…

No, no, no.
It’s like he’s taking my control, and part of me is glad. I don’t even know him, but I still see that I’ve never known someone who is like him. There’s something there, under the surface that he hides behind his attitude and I want to know what it is. I realize then that he’s like a compulsion I don’t understand, either.

And part of me likes it.

“Virginia.” He kisses the corner of my mouth. “You.” His lips find my neck next. “Stopped.” They slide down and land on the hollow spot behind my ear. “Kissing.”

A thought enters my head as if it suddenly planted there. “I don’t even know your name.” Oh God. I kissed a boy when I don’t even know his name.

With that, he leans up slightly. There is still the feel of his body aligned with mine, but we’re eye to eye now. “What?”

“Your name. I don’t even know your name. You never told me. I’m assuming it’s Ryan because your brother called you Ry, but,
oh my God,
you’re lying on top of me right now and I don’t even know your name!”

His breath brushes across my face when a laugh jumps from his mouth. It’s like that first night when he laughed to break the uncomfortable silence.

Everything he does is contagious, and then I’m laughing, too. Our bodies are vibrating against each other as we both lose it over something that shouldn’t be funny at all.

“What’s wrong with me?” I finally gasp out. “I shouldn’t think this is funny. I don’t know why I’m laughing.”

Suddenly there is no earthquake inside our bodies as we’re both still as he says, “Nothing.”

“Nothing what?”

“Nothing is wrong with you. And Ryder. I’m Ryder, not Ryan.”

Ryder. I like that. “I’m scared,” I say, instead of…what? It’s nice to meet you?

Ryder frowns. “Of me?”

Head shake.

Open mouth.

Words spill out. “No…of me.” That’s exactly how my actions feel, as though someone else is responsible for them and not me.