Dangerous (16 page)

“What were you like as a little boy?” she asked, her tall, narrow glass hovering inches from her lips.

I sat up a little straighter. “You can never ask normal questions, can you? Like what do you want to be when you grow up? Or what’s your favorite color?”

“I want to know,” she said softly, beckoning me with her eyes to spill all of my innermost secrets. “You told me that you and your brothers rode dirt bikes. Now tell me the rest.”

“It’s really not that interesting.”

“It is to me.”

My heart turned a flip when I heard the sincerity in her voice.

“Please, Stone,” she pleaded. “I want to know more about you.”

Why did I struggle with this? She was going to find out about me sooner or later. Why didn’t I just
lay
it all out there?

I knew why. I was terrified that she wouldn’t like what she saw. I had mastered the art of covering my insecurities with an outward appearance of bold confidence. Sometimes, I felt the confidence. Sometimes, I didn’t. But at some point, I was going to have to trust someone with my secrets. Either that or live a very lonely life.

“I’ll make you a deal,” I offered. “Let’s go back to my place. We can watch the sunset on the patio and play a round of twenty questions. But for every question you ask me, I get to ask you one, too.”

“Deal.”
There was no hesitation in her answer. A wide smile crossed her face, and her eyes were glowing with anticipation. I hoped I didn’t come to regret the deal. Dara’s curiosity was bound to go in directions that I would find uncomfortable.

Forty minutes later, we were on my back patio. I leaned back into a chaise lounge and motioned for Dara to sit with me. My legs straddled the lounger and her tiny frame fit easily between my thighs, as she leaned back against my chest.

The sun exploded into a myriad of pinks and oranges as its rays streaked the skies and tinted the clouds. As it dipped below the mountainous horizon, the brilliant, fiery colors gave way to purples and blues. Stars dappled the night sky, and a crescent moon was partially obscured by cloud cover.

“Okay,” I whispered, when the sun and moon had completed their changing of the guard. “Ask me a question.” I was relieved that night had fallen. Somehow, the darkness offered me a modicum of relief against the exposure I would surely suffer as a result of her questioning.

She sighed softly as if she were trying to decide which question was worthy of initiating the conversation.

“What were you like as a little boy?”

“Always into trouble.
Much like I am now.”

“You don’t seem like that much of a troublemaker to me.
At least not now that I know you better.
When’s the last time that you were in trouble?”

I wrapped my arms around her waist. “You already asked your question,” I admonished, while she began stroking my hands with her fingertips. “It’s my turn.”

“Are you going to ask me what my favorite color is?” she asked.

“I already know that your favorite color is pink,” I answered. “Why would I waste my question?”

“I never told you that was my favorite color.”

“You didn’t have to. You wear strawberry-flavored pink lip gloss every day. You have more pink clothing than any other color, and let’s not forget those brown-and-pink boots that you were wearing your first day of work.”

“You remember what I wore on my first day?” she asked, a little surprised.

“It’s still not your turn, but yes, I remember. It’s not every day that I let some random girl use the towel that’s usually reserved for my motorcycle.”

She clicked her tongue.
“Lucky me.
I know what a difficult decision that was for you.”

“You have no idea. Now, let me ask you a question.”

“Shoot.”

“What’s your favorite book?”

She pushed herself into a sitting position and turned to look at me.
“My favorite book?”

“Yeah, you know one of those things with a picture on the cover and lots of pages of words in the middle?” I teased.

“Obviously, I know what a book is. I just didn’t expect….”

“What? You didn’t expect me to know what a book
was?
”

She laughed. “You run a bookstore. Of course, I know you know what a book is. I just didn’t realize that you were interested in them. You seem to be more of the outdoorsy type, than the sit-inside-and-read type.”

“Luke liked to read.”

“Luke was your twin?” she asked.

“Yes. I guess you could say he was the good twin. He didn’t cause our parents nearly as much stress as I did. You wondered what I was like when I was younger. I pushed the limits.”

“And I imagine you still do,” she said teasingly. “Did Luke have a favorite book?”

“I don’t know. I never asked him, and now, I’ll never get the chance. But I can still ask you.”

“It would be impossible for me to pick a favorite book. I like reading romance. I think because they always have happily-ever-after endings, you know? Life is hard enough. When I read, I want to go to another world that makes me feel warm and fuzzy.”

I leaned toward her and kissed her lightly on the lips, maybe because I understood what she meant.
Maybe because I agreed.
Life could definitely be hard. For the first time in a very long time, I wanted to make someone else’s life a little bit easier, and part of me hoped that she could make my life a little easier, too.

“Do you miss him?” she asked so softly that I barely heard her voice.

I felt the pressure build in my chest, magnifying the aching hollow of my heart. A raw wedge of pain crept into my throat, and I swallowed, trying to tamp down the emotions that roiled within me. It took me a moment before I trusted my voice to speak. “I will always miss him. When he died, I felt like a chunk of my own heart was ripped out of my chest. They say that time heals all wounds, but I don’t know. It’s been three years, and it still hurts like hell.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, laying her hand gently on mine.

I closed my eyes, allowing her touch to soothe me. “That’s life.”

“What about Dylan?” she asked. “What’s he like?”

“Dylan has everything going for him. Girls think he’s hot. Not as hot as me, of course.”

“Of course,” she agreed without missing a beat.

“In all seriousness, he’s a really good guy. Good grades come easy to him, so my parents think he’s awesome sauce. Oh, and did I mention that he hates me?”

“Hates you?”

“Hard to believe, isn’t it?” I said dryly.

“Why would he hate you?” she asked.

“It’s a very long story.” And it was a story that didn’t paint me in a very favorable light, not that there were any stories that did.

“I have plenty of time,” she said.

“Oh, no,” I countered. “I think I’ve met my quota of confessions for one night. It’s your turn.”

“Okay. Ask me something.”

I studied her profile in the glowing moonlight, wondering what I would most like to know. “What did you think about me the first time you saw me?”

“Is this a trick question?” she asked, cocking her head in my direction.

“No. I just wondered what your first impression was of me.”

“You want me to be honest?”

“Of course.”

She hesitated. “I thought you were good-looking, which you obviously already knew.”

“Conceited and a badass,” I whispered.

She nodded her head in agreement.
“Mostly conceited.
But you were also very dark and broody. You seemed a little scary.”

I scoffed. “Scary?”

“Yes, scary. Like a volcano that’s just waiting to erupt. You always look so serious. And then there’s your reputation with the girls.”

I smiled into the darkness.
“My reputation?”

“You’re known for hanging out with…less scrupulous girls.”

“Less scrupulous?”

“I’m trying to be nice. You know what I mean.”

“Where does that leave you? I’m hanging out with you. Does that mean you’re less scrupulous?”

She thumped my chest with the heel of her palm. I laughed and pulled her against me, cradling her in my arms, her cheek resting against my chest. “Aren’t you afraid that I’ll corrupt you?”

“Aren’t you afraid that I’ll make you behave?”

I chuckled, trying to imagine this tiny wisp of a girl keeping me in line. “And how do you intend to do that?
You going to spank me?
Because I have a feeling that might have the opposite effect.”

“We, girls, have our ways.”

I caressed her bare shoulders with my fingertips as I imagined all the ways that I hoped she would try to keep me in line. We fell into a comfortable silence as we lounged in the silver moonlight. She tilted her face up toward me, and I couldn’t resist the chance to kiss her. She wrapped her hand around my neck, pulling me to her as she deepened the kiss. Dara Golding responded to my touch. That didn’t surprise me, but I was surprised by how happy that made me.

Slowly, she pulled away, caressing my cheek with her hand. “Did Luke look just like you?”

“No, Luke and I are…were fraternal twins, so we weren’t identical. We did look a lot alike, but it was our behavior that really gave us away. Luke was much quieter than I. He read a lot, and I was usually the one getting into mischief. While
we
both rode motorcycles, I rode more often than he did, and I was more of a daredevil, I guess you could say, while he liked to play it safe. It took me forever to get him to jump a ramp. Every time he would get close to the ramp, he’d slow down and come to a screeching halt. But he finally did it. He would do anything I wanted him to do. In fact, my mother used to tell us that we were
monkey see, monkey do
. Luke would watch me and try to imitate whatever I was doing.”

“Do you have a picture of him?”

“I have a photo album in my room. Come on, and I’ll show you.”

She followed me to my bedroom. I motioned for her to sit on my bed, while I pulled a photo album out of a dresser drawer. I handed it to her, and she opened the cover, smiling immediately when she saw the first page.

“Y’all were cute babies. And look, y’all are dressed alike.”

“You can thank our mother for that.”

I sat beside her, the mattress dipping under my weight. She turned the page, and I pointed to a photo of us when we were five. “That’s when we got our first motorcycle.”

“Y’all look too small to be riding a motorcycle.”

“We loved it.” She continued flipping through the photos and paused when she came to the last photo we had taken before he was killed. We were sixteen.

“Y’all did look a lot alike.”

I pointed. “That’s me. This was the last photo we had taken together.”

She studied the photo a moment longer and gently closed the book, handing it to me. “I’m sorry that you lost him,” she said softly.

“I am, too. All the stuff that you hear about twins having a close connection…it’s true, even for fraternal twins. I bet
Crimson
and Scarlet could tell you some stories.”

“I can remember when Scarlet had to get stitches in her forehead. Crimson cried and complained that her forehead hurt, too. She wasn’t screaming as loud as Scarlet, though.”

I could recall similar stories between Luke and me. “I know the moment that he died.”

“You do?”

“I had come home from the hospital to get some sleep. My parents were still there. I went to bed and was awakened with an intense pain all through my torso. I remember feeling nauseous, and my body hurt so bad, I thought I was going to pass out. I
wanted
to pass out. Then, the pain just disappeared, and it was replaced with an intense feeling of peace. It wasn’t long after that when my parents called to tell me that he had died.”

“So you could feel what he was feeling?” she asked, her eyes wide.

“Yes, I assume that I was.”

“That’s unbelievable.”

I turned to replace the album in the drawer, when I heard her soft voice, “What happened to him?”

“Remember when I told you about Tiffany?” I asked, still facing the wall as I quietly closed the dresser drawer.

“Yes.”

I sat back down beside her on the bed. “At that point in time, I thought Tiffany was the most beautiful girl that I had ever seen, and I had the worst crush on her. The only problem was that she liked Luke.”

To say it out loud brought all the emotions racing back.
All the guilt.
All the fear.
I would never escape it.
Never.
“Dammit,” I shouted, standing up quickly and walking to the window. I pushed the curtain to the side and gazed at the view of the mountains.

Dara’s fingertips were on my arm. “What is it, Stone?”

“It should’ve been me. Luke didn’t deserve to die.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked.