Someone Like You (Someone To Love Series) (12 page)

He tilts his head thoughtfully; his cheeks depress as though considering my words.

“I guess I needed to talk to someone.” I bite down over my lip before I say anything else.

“Well”—he steps in close and the sweet scent of his cologne enlivens me, sends my thighs begging for a midnight reprisal—“it was a great conversation.” He gives the hint of a smile as he draws in closer. His dimples swim in and out as if calling me out on the lie.

The door swings open and we both take a giant step back as if our mothers were congregating inside. But it’s not some resurrected version of Mom, it’s Kendall staring back at us. And a part of me very much wishes it were my mother. God, I miss Mom.

“We’d better get inside.” It comes from me strained.

Morgan’s eyes glow like sirens in the pressed night, giving him an air of mystery, an ethereal look altogether.

“Am I interrupting?” Kendall clasps her throat at the thought.

“No,” I’m quick to offer. “We were just talking.” I shoot a look to Morgan in the event he cracks one of his signature lewd grins.

“Anytime you feel the need to talk, you know where to find me,” he whispers, his eyes locked with mine, and for a moment neither of us moves. Then he makes his way inside.

“Everything okay?” Kendall’s eyes widen and retract, and I can see him there, mirrored in her eyes.

“Everything’s great. Thanks for the clothes you lent me.” If it weren’t for Lauren’s and Kendall’s discards I’d be running around without much on.

“No biggy.”

I take in a deep lungful of night air coated with the scent of pines and honeysuckle.

“Love summer,” I say stupidly as I look around at the charred evergreens, their hooded tops, their fingerlike branches.

“You wanna take a walk?” She gives a tiny smile and nods out toward the dirt path that leads behind the bed-and-breakfast.

“Sure.” Oh God, here we go. It’s the
I know you fucked my brother
speech, most likely to be followed up with the
Why are you such a damn slut, Ally?
discussion.

We head over to the tiny stream that edges the property and slow to a plod. The boxwoods line the back of the cabin, continuing along the bed-and-breakfast with a border of Queen Anne’s lace trimming the side.

“What’s on your mind?” Kendall asks, quietly, as if afraid to break up the silence in this post-midnight world.

“I was just thinking about my mom. She loved the outdoors. She would point to a plant and teach us everything about it. There didn’t seem to be a limit to what she knew.” A small huff escapes my chest. “I sort of wish she left instructions on how to be a decent citizen before she died. I would have followed it to a T and not been such a screwup.”

“Oh, stop.” Kendall hooks her arm through mine and tilts her head over my shoulder a moment. “You’re perfect and you know it. You’ve got it all: looks, personality, killer GPA, and apparently my brother’s attention.” She glances over at me waiting for me to admit it. “A little headboard whispered something to me last night.” She says it low like a secret, and I wish to God it was.

“Okay, so your brother may have gotten my attention too.” I swallow down a laugh as we come upon a stone bench overlooking the stream and take a seat. “Are you mad?”

“Why would I be mad?” She shrugs as if it were no big deal. “I mean, you’re both old enough to make your own decisions.” She shakes her head. “I just want you to be careful. I don’t want him to hurt you.”

“And you don’t want me hurting him. I get it.” I wonder if that’s possible. If Morgan and I can walk away after what happened and just be friends. That’s what this is about, right? Just something dirty to pass the time. But it didn’t feel dirty. It felt beautiful.

“I can’t imagine you hurting him.” A tiny laugh bubbles from her. “He’s got a reputation for having a heart of steel, or was that abs of steel? Anyway, I try not to keep track of my brother’s hit list, if you know what I mean.”

Hit list.

I cut a quick glance to the house.

“It’s getting cold. We should probably get back.” Kendall helps pull me to my feet and we head toward the tiny cabin. “So where were you tonight?”

“Oh, just here and there.” I’m not quite ready to fess up and do the big dancer reveal just yet. I’m sure it’ll come out sooner than later, and right about now I prefer later.

“Anyway, I think you and Morgan make a really cute couple. No pressure.” She presses her hands out into the night and they glow like paper. “It’s just, you know, fall will be here before you know it. I’d hate to see either of you dive in too hard, too fast.”

“Too hard, too fast,” I repeat mostly to myself.

God knows I’ve let that happen before and it didn’t end well.

Fall will be here before we know it and I can’t see this ending well, either.

The entire next week goes in that same direction sans the hot “conversation” I initiated last weekend. Down at the club it’s all the same, me with a different pastel negligee, and Morgan as the happy bouncer who has unwittingly garnered a harem. It’s safe to say more than a few girls have taken to his drop-dead gorgeous features, those dimples that could each hold an ocean, his rippling abs, the biceps that frame him out so fantastically. A person might throw herself off the platform a time or two just to have him catch her. And it’s happened. The way the girls fly into his arms after faking a shoe malfunction, you’d think there was a bona fide mosh pit waiting below. I bet they all think I was faking it that first night too.

He nods over to me through the throngs in thongs, and I give a little wave. He hasn’t made one move since that night we were together, and I can’t figure out why. Not that I mind too much. Rutger and I are back on, sort of. He said he wanted to catch a bite tonight, but I had to take a rain check. I told him I had to tend to my “sick” sister, which isn’t a far stretch from the truth. I’m pretty sure telling him I’m a dancer will end it for us on every level.

Woody Bates sweeps by and before I can stop him he wraps his arms around my waist and gives me a twirl. He’s made it a regular practice to accost me just a little bit more each night this week.

“Switching it up tonight?” I glance down at his beer. Usually he relegates himself to the hard stuff, but tonight the only stiff one he’s sporting happens to be stashed in his chinos.

“That’s right, baby.” He lets out a riotous whoop. “Just like I’m switching this up tonight.” He plants a live one on my lips, and I push at his chest to break free from his gorilla-like grip.

“Hey!” Morgan pops up from nowhere and plucks him off. He decks him in the face so hard, blood shoots from his nose like a faucet. “No touching the girls, asswipe.”

Bates rolls around on the floor a moment before Dell shows up and helps him to his feet.

“Fuck.” Dell’s eyes bulge from his head, debuting those bullfrog genes I’ve always suspected he’s had. Too bad for Tess; kissing this frog will only leave her with genital warts. The only Prince Charming I see around here is Morgan.

Morgan leans in, ready for a fight, but Dell holds him back from inflicting any more damage. Woody’s nose hangs crooked as blood continues to trickle down the side of his face.

“Dude, you fucking
broke
it.” Woody spits it out through his crimson-stained teeth. He cuts me a look as he makes his way past the bar. “You’re going to pay for this.”

Dell gives Morgan a firm shove into the stage. “You treat my customers like that? You can’t go rearranging faces each time someone gets a little frisky. That’s the name of the fucking game.” Dell knots up Morgan’s T-shirt and slams him against the wall. “Now get the hell out before the cops get here. I don’t want any trouble. Consider it a night off.” He shifts his gaze over to me, his greasy long hair falling in pieces over his eyes. “Control your boyfriend, would you?” He takes off in the direction of Woody, who deserved a broken nose to begin with.

“Boyfriend, huh?” Morgan’s dimples dig in mockingly.

“He knows we commute.” I shrug. And flirt, but I leave that part out.

“Anyway, I’m ready to call it a night.” I reach down and pluck off my heels. “My feet are killing me.”

“After you.” He motions toward the door.

I run back and snatch my duffle bag from out of my locker. I don’t dare try and change and glean the wrath of Tess for leaving early. There are at least a dozen extra girls on tonight, so it’s not like anyone will ever notice I’m gone.

It’s cool outside, with a warm wind that perks up every now and again to remind us it’s the middle of July. The moon shines bright, bleaching the color right out of the world.

“You wanna go for a drive before heading home?” Morgan glows against the night sky like ivory, his eyes outshining the heavenly expanse, pale as pebbles. There’s something pure about him, humble. Odd, I don’t find those qualities in Rutger, and I don’t know why. Maybe because he hasn’t had the chance to wrestle me free from anaconda-like frat boys. If Morgan keeps saving me I’m going to believe he’s my knight in shining armor. Already a part of me does.

“A drive sounds great,” I say, glancing down at my non-accoutrements. “Hope you don’t mind me in my PJs—less than my PJs, actually.” I hold out my hands at the silver babydoll negligee with the back fully exposed. I wish I could say I was ashamed, that I had the urge to cover myself up in a hurry, but Morgan has seen me in this same uniform for the past two weeks. I’m sure we’re past the boner-inducing stage of our relationship.

“You can make a grown man cry in your PJs, darling.” He gives the hint of a lewd grin. “If you’re okay with it so am I.”

We hop in his truck and drive down about two miles before he takes the turnoff to Charleston Beach. We descend the hillside to the parking lot and jump out of the truck into the salty breeze. The sand is so white it glows under the low lamp of the moon. The moonlight makes the beach look otherworldly, as if we were standing on another planet entirely.

“It’s so beautiful here,” I say, leaning into him. Morgan throws a beach towel over my shoulders as we make our way down to the waterline. The sound of the ocean lapping the shore crushes our eardrums with its constant thunder. It’s barren here, just Morgan and me, the moon, and the incoming tide.

“How about here?” Morgan pulls me in, covering my back with his warm arms, and I sink into him, touching my hand to his blessed-by-God face.

“Here’s perfect.” I want to say
anywhere with you is perfect
. It’s true. Morgan brightens my day whenever he’s around. He’s even made it a point to visit me at Starbucks a few times this week, though Blair tried to hijack him a time or two. I guess he’s got to have a life too. My stomach boils, corrosive as battery acid at the thought of him having any kind of life with Blair Lancaster, of all people.

“So what’s new?” he asks as we take a seat.

I adjust the towel under my bottom. I’m not too interested in digging sand out of places sand should never visit.

“What’s new with you?” I shoulder bump him as we watch the surf foam up like a milk spilling over the sand.

“I asked first,” he says. The words drum out of his chest and reverberate up my arm. The moon rains down its beams and bleaches all of the color from his face, giving him all of the sex appeal of an old-time movie star. It feels surreal to be at the beach like this with Morgan. We’ve become the stars of our own silent movie.

“I was thinking about Ruby a lot today.” My heart sings just saying her name.

“I bet you miss her.” He leans into me and touches his warm shoulder to mine. “Tell me about her.” Morgan wraps an arm around my shoulder and shelters me from the breeze, from the biting sand needling against my flesh.

“She’s amazing. She has the most vivid imagination. Everything is one ongoing story with her. One minute we’re at the park and the next she has us surrounded with unicorns and fairies. She talks a mile a minute, but I never mind that. In fact, I welcome it. It sort of fills the void when we’re apart.”

His arm drops to my waist and he pulls me in, settling his face in my hair a moment.

“She sounds amazing.” His breath heats my neck, and I sigh into him.

“She is. Maybe one day you can see for yourself.” My heart races at the prospect of Morgan meeting Ruby. I don’t tell him I’ve never brought anyone to meet her before. That our outings have always been exclusively relegated to Mommy-and-me dates. But then again, the Christies have always said anyone is welcome and Tess has come to every one of Ruby’s birthday parties, mostly for moral support, but that’s beside the point. Ruby loves Auntie Tess plenty too.