First Love: A Superbundle Boxed Set of Seven New Adult Romances (157 page)

When no one does, he scrambles back the other direction, constantly scanning for the miraculous appearance of an extra doorway that wasn’t there moments before. The traffic light gods are not being kind to Arion today, and as he stops at each one, he dutifully scans for a door or a way out that isn’t going to come.

After another very audible sigh, he guns the accelerator of his truck, giving the traffic gods a virtual middle finger as he scoots beneath the very red light. For someone who doesn’t want to go somewhere, he sure is in a hurry.

“Do you want to tell me what’s bothering you?” I pipe up from the passenger seat. The leather upholstery is smooth as butter as I lean my head back against the headrest. He told me yesterday it’s called a Sierra Denali or something like that, and it’s like no truck I’ve ever seen. It’s more like a luxury car in a truck-sized container, but Arion said just because he needed a truck for the farm sometimes was no reason to sacrifice quality. I like everything about it except for the massive center console keeping us too far apart.

“Chelsea has a big mouth.” A tense frown weighs his chin into a long, tired expression.

Most girls do.
“And you’re worried that with us together, she’ll tell me your secrets and embarrass you?” I’ve been trying to figure out why he’s so keyed up, and this is all that makes sense. I know he likes Chelsea, and I’m pretty sure he likes me, so why is us together a bad thing?

If he grips the steering wheel any harder I think he might snap it in two. The sculpted muscles of his shoulder are tense and drawn beneath his plain black t-shirt, slightly stretching the fabric. “I’m more worried she’s going to make you feel guilty.”

“I can handle it. I shouldn’t have left like I did.” I twist my hands together in my lap, as if I can wring the guilt away.

He’s shaking his head and cutting his eyes from the road to me and then back to the road. “No, I understand now. You don’t need to be sorry.”

“I’m glad you had someone to be there for you.” Everyone needs that, whether they know it or not. Back in Tucson, a few of the girls in the cafe tried to help me, but when they expressed their concern, I pushed them away.
 
And then I threw their good will in their faces.

He smacks the steering wheel, snapping me out of my sulking. “That’s the problem. She was there for me, and she and I have been pretty close. Especially the last few months. I don’t honestly know what I would have done without her.”

“Are you worried I’m going to be jealous?” It isn’t like he’s my boyfriend, but I think I should probably keep that thought to myself. And my jealous streak is about as secret as Area 51, so I can’t blame him if that’s what he’s worried about.

“A bit, yeah.”

“But?” Trying to get any information out of him is such a giant workout, I almost wish it burned calories.

“I’m more worried you won’t like her. She isn’t your biggest fan because she doesn’t know you like I do. But I’m just picturing the two of you getting into it, and that would suck, because as much as I needed her, I need you more.”

He needs me like a hole in the head, but apparently he isn’t any better than me about wanting things that aren’t good for him. “I’m not going to ask you to choose between us, whether I like her or not.”

“You wouldn’t have to ask.” The set of his jaw makes him look like he’s preparing himself to go to his own funeral.

So, in other words, my choices are to like Chelsea or to pretend to. “I’ll do my best to make friends, okay?”

He nods, and his death grip on the wheel loosens a little. “Thanks, Angel.”

We pull up outside a row of townhouses, and Arion leaves the truck running for me while he goes to ring the bell. There are about a million buttons on his dash, but I finally find the seek button and start looking for a radio station. Every now and then, I glance up toward the building. Arion’s disappeared inside. I’m starting to get antsy when I see him and Chelsea come out.
 

She doesn’t look as blonde today. Not that her hair color has changed any, it’s just that with her casual ponytail, white tank and jeans, she doesn’t look as much like a dumbass. Actually, she’s quite pretty now that I can see beneath the pounds of makeup and hair spray that cloaked her the last time I saw her.
 

A fancy leather purse is clutched in one hand, and she’s got a lightweight jacket tossed over one arm. She and Arion are locked in deep conversation as they walk in my direction. Should I get out and offer her the front seat?

I pop my door open, and Chelsea shakes her head, seeming to understand. “No, you stay, I don’t mind the back. Besides, it’s a better vantage point to keep an eye on the two of you.”

“Chelsea…” Arion warns with a level of malice in his tone I’ve only ever heard when someone is being a serious asshat in game.

“What?” She bats her eyes, and I can’t help laughing.
 

“It’s fine. We’re fine.” I smile at Arion, then angle toward Chelsea.

She looks up after fastening her seatbelt and nods. “Yup. Just fine. Me and Heartbreaker here are going to be BFFs, right?” She winks at me.

“Exactly. I think I like Bartender Barbie just fine.”

Arion goes a shade of pale I’d expect to see on a cancer patient or someone dressed up like a sparkly vampire for Halloween.
 

Chelsea’s nodding and laughing. “Oh, my God! I think I need to put that on my name tag at work!”

I don’t think it’s going to be very hard to like her, but if things don’t work out here for me, she’ll be just another friend I have to leave behind. I remind myself not to get attached.
 

Arion puts the truck in drive and squeals out of the parking lot as if he can leave our insanity behind. He takes a deep breath then glances in his rear-view mirror at Chelsea. “You know that’s going to have to be your new ring tone, now, right?”

“What?”

“
I’m a Barbie Girl.”
 
He looks to me. “I used to have it set to the theme song from
Clueless
for her, but she finally begged me to change it so she’s been lumped in on the default ringer.”

I can’t help wondering what ring tone he’ll set for me or if he had one for my texts. I’d probably rather not know, so I don’t ask.
 

As we head out of the city, I forget all about ring tones and nicknames. Tucson is a sizable city, but the majority of its size is built outward, creeping over the desert like tumbleweed. In contrast, Philadelphia has apparently abandoned all notions of outward, and they have instead begun to build up. Way up.

The network of web-like overpasses and underpasses create a multi-layered city that looks like it has expanded in waves. The old mixes with the new, creating a blend of fascinating architecture that I can’t help but be in awe of. Beautiful stone buildings, white spires, and the obligatory signs of urban unease.

One of the things I like the most is the lack of cookie-cutter facades. For the most part, in Tucson you have two choices for building materials on the outside of your house: new stucco or old stucco. There’s some brick here and there, but almost everything is some shade of brown, red, or orange, with the occasional white.

Not in Philly. Philly looks like someone tossed a bunch of colors and materials into a can, gave it a good shake, then sprayed it over the city. It’s organic instead of planned, and it leaves me lots to look at.

It only takes us about fifteen minutes to reach the Benjamin Franklin Bridge, heading toward Camden, and I wish I had a camera to take a picture of the stone columns that guard the two sides of the bridge’s impressive girth like towers on a medieval fortress. I’m still gaping out the window when we pull into a gas station.
 

I have a momentary heart attack when a teenager in a grease-smeared uniform approaches the driver’s window before Arion even has the truck off. Did we do something wrong? I suck in a breath, trying to control my nerves.

Arion calmly pulls out his wallet as if he’s expecting the kid to ask for license and registration, but that doesn’t make any sense. The kid is obviously not a cop. My eyes feel like they are about to pop right out of my head when Arion plucks his Visa out and casually tosses it to the kid. Are we being robbed? Is he trying to be calm because he doesn’t want to scare me?
 

I risk a furtive glance over my shoulder at Chelsea, who’s busy picking at her nails without a care in the world.
 

“Fill it?” The kid says, sounding completely uninterested and not at all like a mugger.

“Yeah. Thanks.” Arion turns to me and quirks an eyebrow. “What’s wrong?”

I hear gas start to flow near the back of the truck. “Is that guy pumping your gas for you?” I didn’t know being rich meant being that lazy. Wow. My heart starts to return to its normal level of activity. So, only slightly erratic and spazzed-out instead of completely.

“Yup. It’s actually illegal to pump your own gas in New Jersey.”

“Whatever, I’m not falling for that.” He must think I’m as ditzy as Chelsea looked when she was tending bar.

“It’s true.” Chelsea leans forward from the back seat. “I don’t really mind though.”

“Once he’s done, I’ll pull up to the store and we can run in.”

“Oh! Will you get me a pack of Airheads?” Chelsea asks.

“You are an Airhead. And yeah.” The way Arion rolls his eyes clashes with his lopsided smile.

Chelsea laughs and sticks out her tongue. Seeing the two of them together almost makes me wish I had a brother. Maybe if I had, it wouldn’t have been so hard to leave Nick. I would have had someone to protect me.
 

The attendant gives Arion a receipt along with his card, and we head into the store together with the promise of bringing candy back for Chelsea. She said she’d rather wait in the truck than go into some dinky little convenience store.

Behind the counter, a teenage girl pops her gum and keeps her eyes on us. Do they not hire anyone over the age of eighteen here? I may only be twenty-one, but I feel miles beyond who I was when I was that girl’s age.
 
I can’t help thinking she should be in school or out with her friends or something equally carefree. Then again, so should I. Plus it’s summer break.

Once we’re back in the truck, my new phone, complete with over a thousand pre-paid minutes, is burning a hole in my hand. It’s a way forward and a way back. It means I can call my mom, but it is also something that can tie my past and future together.
 
I can’t help but worry it’s going to tie a noose around my neck.

Twenty One

Angel

The phone is still clutched tight in my hand when we arrive at the hospital. I have to do this before I lose my nerve. “Do you mind if I catch up to you two? I want to make a call real fast.”

Arion eyes me with concern. “I can wait with you while you call, if you want?”

“No, it’s fine. I’d actually rather have a minute on my own. Just tell me what room Vince is in, unless you think I should wait here since he doesn’t even know me.”

“433A. Fourth floor.” Chelsea climbs out and heads for the elevator, weaving through the aisles of cars growing in the concrete jungle they call a parking garage. A few are parked almost haphazardly, like someone was in a hurry, which makes sense since we’re at a hospital.

His eyes are still dark with worry, but Arion tosses me his keys. “You can lock the truck when you’re done.”

“Thanks,” I say as relief floods through me. I lived with Nick for nearly a year, and never once did he trust me with the keys to his car. The fact that Arion is so comfortable with me after less than two days is immensely gratifying. I’m sure part of it is because we feel like we’ve know each other forever from the game, but whatever. It still feels awesome.

“Let me see your phone for a minute.”

I hand it over, and Arion punches a few buttons then hands it back. “There, now my number’s programmed in.
 
It’s speed dial number two. If you need me to come back down, just call me.”

I doubt he’d have much reception in the hospital room, but I don’t say anything. I don’t deserve the level of compassion he consistently shows me. If he only knew the truth about me, he’d probably send me packing.
 

He hops out of the truck with a lingering glance over his broad shoulder. When he strolls away, it almost seems like his feet are protesting, wanting to carry him back toward me. The way his jeans hug his ass, though, I’m not exactly minding watching him from this perspective.

Once he’s out of sight, I dial my mom’s number with shaking hands and a lump in my throat.
 

After the third ring, my heart is sinking. If she doesn’t pick up, I can’t risk leaving a voicemail. Just when I’m about to hang up, her familiar voice comes through. “Hello?” She sounds skeptical, like she wasn’t sure she wanted to answer the unfamiliar number.

I try to infuse my voice with cheer, and I’m so relieved to be talking to her it isn’t that hard. “Hi, Mom!”

“Tess, I was wondering when you’d call. How’s the vacation going?”

I falter for a minute. “Um, great I guess.” Vacation? I didn’t tell my mom anything before I left, not even that I was leaving. And I certainly didn’t tell her I was taking a vacation.

“Oh, good. Nick stopped by last night and told me you’d gone on a little vacation now that school’s out. Really, though, I don’t know why you didn’t tell me.” She sounds hurt, like she feels left out.

My heart beats faster just hearing Nick has been to my mom’s, even though I was sure he would. It’s exactly why I didn’t tell her anything. “Sorry, Mom. It was sort of last-minute and then I forgot my phone on the plane, so I didn’t have a chance to call.”

“Oh, so that’s why you’re calling from this number. I don’t recognize it.”
 

She accepts my story easily, and I remind myself not to feel guilty; it’s for her own good. “Yeah, it’s a friend’s phone. A couple of the girls and I from one of my classes came together, and I borrowed one of their phones. Don’t call it unless it’s an emergency and don’t give it out to anyone, okay?” I wonder if I should be surprised at how easily lies roll off my tongue. Mom doesn’t know I got kicked out of school any more than she knows I got fired from the cafe.