Breakaway (23 page)

“Exactly,” she said. “But you have to wear a suit and tie. Deal breaker?”

“Not at all,” I said, already wondering how I was going to pull that one off.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

When Raine got to my apartment building that Saturday night, I was standing in the living room waiting for her. I hadn't been able to sit still all afternoon, watching the clock and thinking this was all a huge mistake.

She was already out of her car and walking up the cracked and uneven sidewalk to my door when I stepped out onto the stoop. “Holy shit,” I muttered under my breath at the sight of her. She was wearing a formfitting black dress that flared out at the knee and settled into a silky pool at her feet. Her hair was pulled back from her face but hung in loose curls down to her shoulders. The dress wasn't particularly low cut and didn't show a lot of skin. What it did show was every curve, and I couldn't keep my eyes from traveling over each of them, imagining what it would feel like to run my hands over her body, to hug her against me. I was going to have to spend the better part of the night thinking about soccer or my mom just to keep from touching Raine.

I was wearing a shirt and tie but I was warm in it and so had my jacket hanging over my arm. The funeral suit. I hated it, but there was no other option. The only person I knew who wore almost the same size I did was Chris, and I couldn't imagine him owning a suit.

“You look really nice,” Raine said as she gave me the once-over.

“I—uh … you look fucking amazing,” I said.

She smiled at that but I instantly wished I could take it back. Jesus, the first words out of my mouth and I'm cussing at her like a sailor.

“I'm sorry,” I said. “I mean … I meant that you look nice too.”

“‘Fucking amazing' is better than ‘nice' any day,” she said with a smile.

“You changed your hair,” I said, noticing it for the first time. Her hair, which fell in long waves to the middle of her back, had been all one length before and now was cut with bangs to frame her face. And she had changed the color to a dirty blond. “Is that your natural color?”

“Close enough,” she said.

“Why did you change it?”

“My mom wanted me to,” she said, wrinkling her nose with distaste. “Because of the dance. Do you hate it?”

“It makes your eyes look more blue,” I said.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You ready to get out of here?” she asked.

We fell into step with each other walking to the car. I headed for the driver's side so I could open Raine's door for her.

“I was wondering if I was going to meet your mom. Is she home?” Raine asked.

“She is,” I said, “but she's not much for company these days.”

“I'm sorry,” Raine said.

“Don't worry about it.”

“Did you want to drive?” Raine asked as I stepped off the curb and reached for the car door handle to open the door for her.

“Why?” I asked.

“I don't know,” she said with an uncertain shrug.

“You think it bothers me to have a girl drive me around?”

“Does it?” she asked.

“Not if that girl is you,” I said as we stood with the open car door between us, she with her hand rested on top of the door.

Raine frowned and said, “I'm not … sure I'm in the right place. I was here to pick up Jason Marshall. You know, about six-two, dark hair, nice smile, kind of a dick.”

I laughed at that. “If it will make you feel better, I'll be a dick on the drive there,” I said.

“I don't know,” she said. “I guess I could get used to this Jason.”

As we drove along the parkway that followed the river to the country club, I stared out the passenger window at the last rays of sun shining through the trees, most of them now in full fall colors.

In a few minutes we reached the entrance to the club. Just a large wooden sign announcing it as the
WESTWOOD COUNTRY CLUB
, but there was nothing but rolling green fields and a patch of woods in sight. Raine turned onto a road that was lined with a perfectly straight row of trees along both sides.

The temperature of the air dropped suddenly as we drove under the canopy of trees and Raine shut the sunroof. We drove for what seemed like a mile before we saw a building, a large white stucco building with a portico covering part of the circular driveway. When we pulled up in front of the building, a guy in a white uniform with a burgundy bow tie ran over to open Raine's door.

“How you doing?” I asked one of the other uniformed valets with a nod as he came to shut my own door behind me.

“Good evening, sir,” he said, calling me sir like I wasn't just some punk kid, but somebody whose dad had money and influence. I thought about the look Mario would have shot me if he had been there to hear the valet call me sir, and it made me feel suddenly lonely. I wished for a friend with me who I could turn to and with just a look ask, “Sir? Did you hear that?”

I took a minute to study the building up close while Raine handed over the keys to her car and gathered her purse from the backseat. Fountains flanked either side of the entrance, water splashing playfully against stone statues. There were potted plants and benches all along the veranda that ran from one end of the building to the other and a red carpet marked the path that would lead us inside the building.

“You ready?” Raine asked.

“Sure. Yeah,” I said as I pulled my jacket on and buttoned the top button. Raine put her arm through mine and held my forearm. Her whole body was touching mine, her breast pressing against my arm. Walking with Raine on my arm, in that moment, I felt like I was the man. The feeling was fleeting since once we walked into the lavish club I was reminded that I was a stranger here and the loneliness settled in again.

The foyer of the building was bigger than my entire apartment, and black marble columns separated the main part of the foyer from a row of fireplaces, all burning with fires to ward off the autumn chill. People sat alone and in small groups at couches and wingback chairs near the fires, talking and drinking. Some of the men were dressed in tuxedos, but most wore suits. I was struck by how at home Raine looked in this place, almost like she owned it. I felt completely out of place and wished that I had at least had a more recent haircut.

“Nice place,” I said as we mounted a large central staircase, climbing to the second floor. “I feel like I've hit the big time.”

Her lips tightened in a little purse and I could tell my comment had her miffed. “Don't start,” she said.

“I just said it was a nice place.”

“Uh-huh,” she murmured, but let it go without a fight.

At the top of the stairs, the doors were propped open to a large room that included a stage draped with red velvet curtains. A band was seated on the stage with music stands in front of each musician. They were playing an upbeat, jazzy song when we entered and there were a few couples out on the dance floor, most of them older people. Otherwise, people were just kind of milling around, talking or getting drinks from the bar. I recognized a few people from school, including Jordie, who was standing with Cheryl and other people our age.

“I have to introduce you to my mom,” Raine said with a sigh. “We might as well get it over with. So embarrassing.”

I didn't ask if she was embarrassed by me, or her mom. Maybe both. Even though I knew Raine's parents were members of the club and her mom was an organizer of the event, it still hadn't occurred to me before that moment that I would have to meet her parents. My hands started to sweat as I thought about the prospect of meeting her mom and just hoped she was too preoccupied to take much notice of me.

Raine's mom was pretty in a made-up kind of way—blond like Raine but clearly an expensive dye job—and gave you the impression right away that she was running the show. People were hanging around her, asking questions and for direction about things.

“My mom's in charge of the cotillion,” Raine muttered to me out of the corner of her mouth. “She's like a Nazi with her organizational skills.” Then she turned back and stepped up to her mom, dropping an airy kiss on her cheek. “Hi, Mom. This is my friend Jason.”

Mrs. Blair's cool blue eyes landed on me and gave me the once-over, but I didn't feel any judgment, more like she was just mentally cataloging everything about me for later reference.

“Hello, Jason,” she said, her tone friendly enough. “It's nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Blair.”

“It's Ms. Anderson,” she said. “Mrs. Blair is my mother-in-law. I thought I'd wait to change my last name once I'm sure my first marriage is going to work out.”

She was funny, even if she delivered the joke without a smile. I got the sense from the way Raine rolled her eyes that she had heard this one many times before.

“Fair enough,” I said. “A good-looking woman like yourself, it's smart to keep your options open.”

Now Raine's mom did crack a smile and cut her eyes to Raine as she tilted her head with a meaningful lift of her eyebrow. “I'd be careful, if I were you,” she said to Raine. “I'm glad to have met you, Jason. You two have a good time.”

“Yes, Mother,” Raine said as she took me by the elbow and steered me away from her mom. “Gross,” she whispered to me. “Stop flirting with my mom.”

“I wasn't flirting,” I said. “I see where you get your smart mouth.”

“You
were
flirting. And it's gross. Come on,” she said. “Let's dance.”

“This isn't really my kind of dancing,” I said as the band started up a new song, a slow one.

“Well, if you don't mind me driving, maybe you won't mind if I lead,” she said. “Come on.” She picked up my hand and we walked onto the dance floor together. In the center of the dance floor, Raine stopped and put her hand on my shoulder; the other, she rested lightly in my hand. There were just a few seconds of awkwardness as we settled into each other. This was the first time for us touching each other in such a familiar way, so there was a moment of uncertain fumbling. But I had thought about holding her often enough that I already knew how I wanted her to fit in my arms.

I put my hand at the curve of her waist and she stepped in close to me, her head tipped back slightly to look up into my face. “When I was in middle school, I had to take cotillion every week,” she said. “I was always taller than the boys so their faces would end up somewhere near my boobs. It's nice to dance with someone taller than I am.”

I smiled at her comment but didn't trust myself to say anything, afraid my voice would break like I was twelve again. My heart was pounding insistently and I knew Raine had to feel it as close as we were.

I slid my hand to the other side of her waist so I was holding her closer and tried to breathe normally, though my breath kept catching in my chest. Raine turned her head to look at some of the other people dancing and she let out a quiet sigh, almost like she was content, or happy. I put my face closer to her hair and breathed in her scent. We weren't moving much, just barely, but each time we did move, our bodies rubbed together in a way that was setting off alarms in my head. I had thought about holding her for weeks, and now that I was holding her, it was in front of a roomful of strangers and it made me distinctly uncomfortable.

Other couples were talking as they danced but Raine and I were quiet. She slid her hand up my shoulder, closer to my neck, and I felt the collar of my jacket press against my skin. She shifted her hips, just a little, but she was suddenly closer to me and my mind was racing at a hundred miles an hour.

Her eyebrow came just to my chin and I thought, totally crazy, about brushing my lips against her forehead. The people around us were a blur now, the room a kaleidoscope of shimmering light and the chatter of conversation, all of it meaningless.

When the song ended, it took us an extra few seconds to let go. Our eyes met as we stepped away from each other, and I savored the look she was giving me. If we had been alone that moment, nothing short of death could have stopped me from kissing her, regardless of how much restraint I had shown up to this point in life.

“Let's get a drink,” Raine said, her comment casual, but a tremble thrummed under her voice.

A group of people our age was clustered near the refreshment table as Raine and I approached, and some of them stopped to greet Raine. A few of the people I knew, like Madison and Cheryl, with Jordie at her side, but the rest were strangers to me. I hadn't told Jordie ahead of time that I was coming and I noticed his eyes widen in surprise when he saw me with Raine.

As we stood talking to Raine's friends, Brian approached with a group of guys, all of them in tailored suits, their hair perfectly gelled. My hand was balled in a fist in my pocket as I fought the urge to chew nervously on my thumbnail. Subconsciously I had known I would see people like Brian when I agreed to come with Raine, but thought with a little luck we'd be able to avoid them for most of the night.

“Hey, Raine,” Brian said, ignoring everyone else.

“Brian,” she said with a small nod as her eyes wandered over the crowd of dancers to avoid his gaze.

“Hey, Jason,” Brian said, the friendliness in his voice so fake, it made me want to wince.

“How you doing?” I asked as I thought about stepping closer to Raine.

“Hey,” Brian said, his voice too eager, “we were just going outside to hit the bottle for a bit. This shindig is lame. I can't deal with being sober. You should come with us, Jason.”

Raine's eyes narrowed as she studied Brian's expression but she said nothing.

“I probably shouldn't,” I said. “We just got here.”

“Oh, come on,” Brian said, chiding me. The way he was able to turn on the fake charm was pretty impressive—his parents probably thought he hung the moon. “You worried Raine is going to be mad. You don't care, right, Raine?”