NOCTE (Nocte Trilogy #1) (19 page)

“What is your question?”

He smiles and I swear it’s brighter than
the sun.

“Calla, I want you.”

I suck in my breath at that.
 
I wait and wait and wait for a question,
all while his eyes penetrate my soul.

“I wake up in the night wanting you.
 
I dream about you.
 
But right now, you’re tied up in a lot of
painful, hard things. I need to make sure that you’re not just drawn to me
because you’re confused. I want to make sure that you
really
want me.
 
I’m
willing to be patient and find out. So my question is, can you
be
patient and wait, too?”

He
wants to be with me?
 
That’s all I
can think of and never mind that he wants to wait until my mind is clear.
 
Of course I’ll wait.

I start to nod and to ask how long, but
he continues.
 

“Can you wait, no matter what happens in
the meantime?”

I pause because what a strange thing to
say. I must look as puzzled as I feel because Dare reaches out a finger and
touches my lips.
 

“Don’t ask, because I can’t tell you
right now. Everyone has secrets, Calla, even me. But can you wait until we have
a fair shot, despite the secrets?”

God, I’m tired of secrets.
 

But God, I want Dare even more.

“On one condition,” I find myself
saying.
 
Dare lifts his head,
surprised.

“And that is?”

“I don’t have a lot of experience with
guys like you,” I tell him.
 
Or guys, period.
“But I want you. You’re all I think about.”

Dare’s lips curve.
 
“I feel the same way.”

“So I don’t know how you can ask me to
wait. I only have the summer,
Dare
. And then I’m
leaving for college.” I pause and my heart flutters.
 
“But if it’s important to you, I’ll wait
for a little while.
A
very
little while.
 
But only if
you do one thing for me.”

He waits, his dark gaze pensive.
 

“Give me a reason.”

The words are out before I can re-think
them and take them back.
 

Realization clouds his eyes and before I
can blink, I’m in his arms again, pulled to his chest and his mouth is ravaging
my own.
 
His lips,
strong, yet soft, close over mine, pillaging them, bruising them, caressing
them.
 

Kissing him is everything I thought it
would be.

I sigh into his mouth and he inhales it
as he inhales me.
 
His hands trace
the outline of my
shoulder-blades
, and then skim my
back, down to my hips.
 
They feel
just as I’d imagined, strong, yet gentle.
 

He rocks me into him, and my hips meet a sudden
rigidity, his very apparent desire for me.
 
I’m taken aback by the hardness.
 
But then it fuels the burning I feel, the burning that races along my
veins, pumping through my heart. I burn because he’s hard for me.
 

He
wants me.

My tongue twirls around his, before I nip
at his lips.
 
He groans as I press
tighter against him, wedging myself between his legs, stealing his breath.
 
His hands come up, toward my breasts,
grazing my hardened nipples with his thumbs. He lingers there, for a moment,
turning my points into pebbles as he nuzzles the softness of my neck, his lips
blazing a trail.
 

Finally, he yanks away, his breathing
ragged, as though he’s been burned. And I suppose he has.
 
So have I.
 
The chemistry between us is lightning
hot.

He holds me at arm’s length as he regains
his composure.

Then he looks at me and grins the most
devilish grin.
 

“Did that do the trick?”

His question is light and playful, but
the meaning really isn’t.
 

Because what he’s really asking is… is
that enough for now?
 
Is it enough
to hold me over?
 
Enough
to make me wait?
   
 

And the answer is…I don’t know.
 

I don’t know because if he’s waiting
until the worst of my grief is over, he could be waiting a while.
 
Grief is an unpredictable thing, and
honestly, I don’t think it ever really goes away. I think we just learn to
manage it.

And maybe that’s really what he’s waiting
for.
 
For me to
manage it… my grief, my life, Finn.
 
There’s a lot there to manage.
 
A lot of obstacles.
 

But as I stare at him, at the way the
light turns his dark eyes to amber, at the way the sunshine bathes him in a
golden glow and the connection between us sizzles hot and dangerous, I know one
thing.
 

He’s
worth the wait.
   

Despite our secrets.

Or maybe even because of them.

VIGINTI
SEX

Finn

I curl up in my room on the floor, where the dust has
settled in the corners and the rain once again drenches the sill. I should get
up and close the window, but I don’t.
 

YouCan’tYouCan’tYouCan’t.

The voice shrieks in my ear and
I clasp my hands over them, holding tight, trying to drown them out, which of
course doesn’t work.
Because the voices come from within.
 

I hear Calla come inside, I hear
her singing in her shower,
happy
with things that I
have no knowledge of, yet I do.
 

I know
it’s
Dare making her happy.
 

He gives her hope, when all I
give her is despair.
 

I drop my head into my
hands.
 

Just a little longer.
 

Justalittlelittlelittlelittle.

She’sNotWorthThePainNotWorthItNotWorthIt.

The voices are insistent, but I
know they lie.
 
She
is
worth it.
 
I can pull this off for her.
 
I have to because she deserves it.
 

Act normal.
 

I sit up, brushing my damp hair
away from my face.
 

For a little while longer.
 

I can do this.
 
I can pretend.

For

A

Little

While

I watch the dust-motes twirl in
the dying light, swatting at them before I curl up in a ball.
 

For
Calla.

VIGINTI
SEPTEM

Calla

I
sit curled up in a chair on the side porch.
 
From here, I have the perfect panoramic
view of the ocean, the cliffs, and cascading mountainside.
 

I watch Finn chopping yet more wood, his
pale skin glistening with sweat in the morning sun.
 
He didn’t sleep with me last night, so
apparently he didn’t have nightmares.
 
But even still, he was out chopping wood when I got up, so he’s clearly
bothered by something.
 
He told me
once that it soothes his nerves, and lately, he’s chopped piles and piles.
 
So his nerves must be truly rattled.
  

Stirring my coffee, I take a sip,
then
take a deep breath of the clean mountain air.
 
My father’s crematorium isn’t burning
today, so there is no murky smoke to pollute the air.
 

“Would you like company?”

Dare’s voice is quiet on the edge of the
porch, as he lingers on the top step.
 
My heart leaps a bit, just like it does every time I see him.
 
I nod, with a smile.

“Of course.”
 
I shove the other chair away from the
table with my foot.
 
“It’s a perfect
morning.”

He agrees as he sits down, a cup of
coffee in his own hand.
 

As he looks out over the mountain, I
shove Finn’s journal further down into my pocket. I’d meant to read more of it
this morning, since alone time is rare in my house.
 
But I can do it later.
 
I’ll never turn away alone time with
Dare, not now that he’s decided we should
wait.

Ugh.

I force a smile because that thought
makes me grumpy.
 

“You’re up early,” I point out.
 
He smiles back, his eyes sleepy.
 

“I didn’t sleep well,” he admits.
 
“So I got up early for a jog.
 
I still feel groggy, so I came up for
coffee.
 
Your dad gave me an open
invitation to raid your kitchen.”

I think about that for a second.
 
My father is normally not all that
social, despite the fact that he has to be for his job.
 
He’s gotten to be a pro at handling
grieving people, at being appropriate and kind.
 
But on his off time, he doesn’t
typically like to interact.
 

“He must like you,” I decide.
 

“You sound surprised,” Dare smiles.
 
“People like me, you know.”

“You said they like you for your
step-father’s money,” I recall.
 
“My
dad doesn’t know anything about that.”
 

His lip twitches.
 
“Well, people might actually like me,
too. I don’t know.
 
But I think I’m
fairly likable.”

Fairly.

I remember the way his hips felt crushed
against mine, and I flush.
 

“You’re pretty when you blush,” Dare says
matter-of-factly, as he stares at me over the rim of his coffee mug.
 
I flush more and he grins.
 
“You’re pretty all the time, though,” he
amends, which of course lights my cheeks on fire.
 

“You’re trying to make me blush now,” I
accuse.
 
He grins again, not the
least bit sorry.
 

“Am I?” he asks without any chagrin
whatsoever.
 

I nod absently, watching Finn over his
shoulder.
 
My brother is attacking
the wood with a vengeance.
 

“Hey,” Dare says, bringing my focus back
to him.
 
“I’d like to ask another
question.”

I wait.
 

He smiles.

“Tell me why you haven’t had a real
boyfriend.”
 
It’s an instruction,
not a question.
 
It, of course,
causes me to blush yet again, a wild crimson that spreads like fire to my
chest.
 
Dare shakes his head.

“Don’t be embarrassed.
 
I quite like it, really. I’m just
curious as to how you’ve remained an undiscovered treasure.”

God, I love the way he talks, so British
and so refined.
 

I shrug.
 
“I’ve always been Funeral Home Girl,
remember?
 
No one ever wanted to get
close enough to know me.
 
The mere
fact that I live in a funeral home with my crazy brother is enough to creep
them out.”

“That can’t be true,”
Dare
argues.
 
“You’re beautiful.
 
Teenage boys never think anything
through logically.
 
They think with
the crotch of their pants, and their crotch would react to you.
 
Trust me.”

Oh, I do. Especially when I remember how
his crotch had reacted to me yesterday.
 
A flood of feminine power and lust spreads through me suddenly, like a
wave, and I want to crest on it forever.
 
But I don’t. I turn my attention back to Dare and shrug again.
 

“I guess they hid it well, then, because
I was pretty much ostracized.
 
It’s
ok.
 
Don’t worry about me.
 
I’m leaving here
,
remember
?
 
I’ll never have to see them again, and neither will my brother.”

My
brother.
 

I glance toward the woodshed and I’m
surprised to find him gone.
 
I scan
the trail and the beach, and I don’t see him there, either.
 
Maybe he went to shower.
 

I look at Dare.
 
“What about you?
 
Have you had any serious girlfriends?”

Surely so.
 

He shrugs, downplaying any role they
might’ve played in his life.
 
“Oh,
there have been girls,” he concedes.

I raise an eyebrow.
 
“So you’re a player?”

He laughs.
 
“I plead the fifth.”

I gaze at him. “You’re not American. I’m
not sure our constitution applies to you.”

He laughs again.
 

“What’s your favorite color?” he asks,
instead of answering.
 

“Viridem,” I answer immediately.
 
“Green.
 
It means life.
 
I like that.”

Dare nods.
 
“I like that too. And I like that you
know Latin.”

I smile because of our thrust and parry
game.
 
“Finn knows Latin,” I correct
him.
 
“I’ve just picked a few things
up from him.”

“Why does he love Latin so much?”

I shake my head, checking the trail for
Finn again, but he’s not there.

“He wants to be a doctor.
A Psychologist, really.
 
Latin is the base for medical terminology, so I guess he figures he’ll
get a jump start.”

“Smart,” Dare nods.
 

I have to agree.
 
“Finn is brilliant,” I tell him.
 
“Truly.”

“You’re not just saying that because
you’re twins?” Dare teases.
 
I shake
my head.
 

“Nah.
 
He’s way smarter than me.”

“I doubt that,” Dare parries. “You seem
rather brilliant yourself.”

“Not smart enough to stay away from you,”
I answer without thinking about it.
 
Dare almost rears his head back.
 

“Where did that come from?” he stares at
me, his eyes wide.
 

I honestly don’t know.
 

“I guess I’m just frustrated with your ‘wait
and see’ mentality,” I mumble.
 
Dare
cocks his head.
 

“Patience isn’t a virtue of yours?”

I shake my head. “Unfortunately, no.”

“But good things come to those who wait,”
Dare points out.
 

“I’m not ketchup,” I thrust back.
 
He looks at me in confusion.
 

“That was an old ketchup slogan a few
years ago.”

He shakes his head. “Americans. You do
love your condiments.”

I hear a car crunching in the gravel of
the drive, and I glance around Dare to see my father pulling the hearse
around.
 

“Ugh.
 
There’s a funeral today.
 
You might want to vacate the place, if
you don’t want to be surrounded by tears.”

Dare looks unconcerned as he takes a slug
of coffee.
 

“Want to give me a tour of Astoria?” he
asks casually, standing up and stretching.
 
I’m distracted once again by the flat ribbon of his abdomen that shows
as his shirt lifts up.
 
He catches me
looking and grins.
 
“My abs will be
coming too,” he adds arrogantly.
 

I roll my eyes.
 

“Are you trying to bribe me?”

His dark eyes meet mine.
 
“I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll go
shirtless if you want.”

My
heart couldn’t take that.
 

It’s suddenly hard to swallow and I need
a distraction. And I need to get away from the impending funeral.
 

“Okay,” I agree.
 
“Let’s go.
But only if
you drive.
With a shirt on.”

“Done,” he says triumphantly.
 

Only I’m the triumphant one a few minutes
later as I wrap my arms around his waist and we glide down the mountain.
 
The front of my body is pressed to his
back, and we fit like perfectly placed puzzle pieces.

I take him to my favorite coffee shop
first, where we sit outside and sip at espresso for a bit.
 
We’re sitting in the shade and the
morning breeze is actually chilly, so when Dare notices my shiver, he lays his
arm around the back of my chair and I snuggle into his arm.
 

I want to stay like this for the rest of
the day, or perhaps even forever, but within twenty minutes, Dare stares down
at me.
 

“What next, tour guide?”

I sigh.
 

“You’re a punishing task-master.”
 

But with my arms wrapped around him again
on the back of his bike, I can hardly call it punishment.

“I want to see where you went to school,”
he calls back to me over the wind.
 
So I direct him to Astoria High.
 
He pulls up in front, and I only wish that my old classmates were here
to witness Calla Price riding on the back of Dare DuBray’s motorcycle. Victory
would be mine, because he’s leaps and bounds sexier than any of them could ever
dream of being.
 

But it’s summer, so no one is here to see.
  

Dare steps away from the bike and pulls
his helmet off, the breeze ruffling his dark hair. He’s absurdly handsome as he
appraises the school, his hand shielding his eyes from the sun.

“So this is the fabled place of torment?”

I nod.
 
“Unfortunately.”

Dare glances at me.
 
“It’s just a building, Calla.
 
It can’t hurt you.”

“The people inside can,” I point out, the
scars of their words imprinted in my memory.
 
“Words can harm people every bit as much
as a weapon.”

He nods.
 
“I know.
 
But what
happens
as you get older, is that you realize that the people in high school were never
very important to you in the first place.
 
They’re just stupid kids who don’t know anything.
 
You’ll go on and do great things, and
they’ll stay here in this little town and do nothing. You’ll win.”

I stare at him.
 
“And how exactly do you know that?”

He shrugs.
 
“
It’s
just
math.
 
I read a study once that said
over half of the population will never move more than twenty miles from their
hometown.
 
There’s not a lot of
brilliant opportunity here, I’m guessing.
 
So your classmates who stay will never save the world or anything.”