Patch Up (24 page)

“Why? Don’t you want to?” I ask, fear and disappointment making my voice a little shaky. Talk about a contradiction. I don’t want to sleep with him, but I want him to want to sleep with me.

He laughs, his head thrown back. Four girls at a table not too far from ours look over at him, mischievous smiles on their perfect faces. They like what they see and I can’t blame them. “You’re kidding me!” he says, laughter still shaking his shoulders. “If you were ready to sleep with me we wouldn’t be here in this bar but in my room not wasting any more time.”

I’m gaping now and my reaction sends him into another round of laughter. I can’t believe he said that. Yet, a small part of me is thrilled to know we’re on the same page. “Why me?”

His laughter dies immediately and the darkness comes back in his expressive eyes. His good mood vanishes in a blink of an eye. “Because it’s you. Because it’s us.”

It’s cryptic, but I understand what he means. Our connection and our past play a huge part in this. Granted, it doesn’t mean we’re in love or that we want a relationship between us beside friendship, but it means that we need to explore each other completely. I need to feel him as close to me as possible, I need to know that I can have this kind of intimacy with a guy after Sean. Him, he needs to know he can have more than sex with a girl again after Juliet’s death, he needs to know what it feels like.

“Are you ready to wait?”

“Are you ready to trust me completely?” he counters, daring me to chicken out but I won’t. Not this time.

“If you give me some time, yes!”

“Let’s seal this with a kiss,” he says with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes still tormented by something he won’t share with me. He’s far more secretive than I ever was. Maybe one day he’ll open up to me more than he does.

I nod but don’t move or say a word. I’m shy now that it’s settled. It’s pointless and kind of weird, but I can’t help it. He leans closer to me over the table and brushes a hand over my cheek. He’s not smiling now; he’s serious. His eyes look down at my lips and back up at my eyes. He makes the last space between us disappear and puts his lips on mine, softly.

I put some more pressure on his lips and revel in the feel of his goatee against my silky skin. His tongue traces my upper lip, asking for entrance. I shiver, placing a hand in his hair and gliding it behind his head. He matches my gesture in my hair. I open my mouth and sigh soundly when our tongues meet again.

This time, we’re not kissing in a hurry. He’s taking his sweet time to explore my mouth, my lips with his soft tongue. It’s languid and too sensual to be done in public. Feeling bold with desire, I bite lightly on his lower lip and he groans. I shiver again, my fingers clawing in his hair. His hand in mine shakes. I hate the table between us. I hate that people are around us. I hate that we’re not alone in his room. I want to feel his chest against mine. I want to feel his heat warming me. I want to indulge completely in the feeling building low in my belly and taking over my whole body.

He breaks the kiss, breathing hard. I’m no better, really. My eyes lock with his and I’m rewarded when I see he’s as affected as I am. I clear my throat and laugh nervously.

“Even your laugh is so fucking sexy,” he says, his voice husky and dark. He bites on his lower lip hard and winks at me. It should be forbidden to be so sexy in public.

“Shut up,” I reply, hiding behind my hands.

He pulls his hand away from my wild hair and forces me to look at him. “If you want to sleep with me, you have to get used to hearing those kinds of things. I’m not going to filter what I think anymore.”

“I should go now.”

It’s too much too soon. He’s too intense sometimes. I’m breathing with difficulty, but now it’s not from the scorching hot kiss we exchanged … it’s scaring me, this intensity and the prospect of being naked with him in more ways than one.

He sighs and stands up without finishing his beer. “I’ll drive you back.”

*  *  *

“It’s been two weeks, Skye!” Kate says with a pout, more suitable for a child than a girl soon to be nineteen. She runs her brush through her shiny blonde hair one last time before facing me.

I roll my eyes and go back to my psychology textbook. I have a paper due next week and I still have tons of work to do if I want to keep my straight A score in the class. I don’t have time to waste talking about Duke and me when nothing new has happened since our meeting in the bar. We haven’t even kissed since then, and it’s been two weeks.

“I know,” I reply, my voice flat and my eyes gliding over the page about modern psychology.

“You’re not bothered that he hasn’t tried to kiss you again or anything?”

I glance up at her and scrunch my nose. Of course I’m bothered, but it has more to do with the fact that I’m pretty sure he’s been going back to the cemetery more and more. He talks less and less when we’re together, looks at me only when it’s absolutely necessary, and goes MIA every day without a reason.

“I’m not like you, Kate. I can’t just walk up to him and kiss him senseless,” I reply.

“Something’s wrong with him,” she insists, making me cringe.

She knows about Juliet, but I’m not sure she realizes how Duke is still affected by her death in his everyday life. She doesn’t see it like I do when I look in his brown eyes. So telling her that I think he’s spending countless hours in front of Juliet’s tomb is going to freak her out more than she did when I told her about my encounter with Sean. She’s like a mother hen with me and I’m not sure Duke needs that right now.

“Let it be, Kate.” I sigh before turning on my laptop to do some research on the Internet. “Maybe he needs some time.”

“More than you need?” she says in disbelief, grabbing her latest erotic book. “It’s quite funny coming from a womanizer.”

My temper flares. I hate it when someone says something wrong about him. I know she cares about him and likes him, but she should be a little more sensitive sometimes. “You know it’s not easy for him!”

She coughs on her M&Ms and frowns. “I know it’s hard with what happened to his girlfriend and all, but it’s about sex, not about a wedding,” she replies sternly.

It’s weird to be arguing when in fact she’s looking out for me, but I don’t want to hear about it. She’s sweet like that but she’s also going a little over the top these days. “We’re friends. The other girls … he doesn’t care about them. With me it’d be like—”

“Cheating?” she finishes for me, softening. Opening her book, she pulls out the piece of paper she uses as a bookmark. “It’s messed up.”

I shrug and say nothing more. It is messed up after all, but having dreams in which I’m enjoying having sex with Duke only to see the dream turn into a nightmare and waking up hyperventilating because I’m freaking out about having such contact with him is no better.

“Skye, maybe you should talk to him. He seems really closed up.”

“If he doesn’t want to talk, he won’t talk.” I know him enough to be able to say this with certainty. This guy keeps his secrets, but if I know one thing for certain he’s more stubborn than I’ll ever be.

“Maybe he needs to know you’re concerned. After all, it helped you when he was always trying to make you talk to him.”

I put my textbook away on my bed and focus on my laptop. “He’s coming over later,” is all I say before focusing on my work.

*  *  *

I think Kate is right. I have to shake him a little because I can’t ignore any longer the absent look he always has when we’re together. He’s not even pretending to work. His pen is mid-air over his notebook, his engineering textbook open next to it, and he’s staring at the window without really seeing it. His eyes are dull and his goatee is not as well trimmed as I’m used to seeing it. Even his hair is flatter than usual.

I sigh and close my textbook with force, bringing him back to the present. His head snaps back to me but his eyes don’t reflect anything. It’s almost frightening to see him so empty. If I knew kissing me would make him a zombie, I’d never have succumbed. It was more of a mistake than I first thought.

“Tell me what’s going on.” It’s not a demand, it’s an order. I’m not kidding around, nor am I wasting any more time with this unknown version of Duke.

He frowns and glances back down at his notebook where he hasn’t written a single word during the last hour he’s been here. “Nothing.” He’s the master of monosyllabic words these days. To think I have to trust him! Does he trust me? I don’t think so.

I cross my arms over my chest and lean against the wall, putting some more distance between us on my little bed. It’s not easy, but I manage. “Nothing?” I laugh bitterly. “You’re becoming a liar now?”

“Stop this, Skye.” He scowls, his face showing more color right now than it has for the last couple of weeks. His hands claw on his notebook and pen; his knuckles turn white.

“Stop what? Trying to understand what’s tormenting you? Trying to talk to the guy I consider my best friend? Tell me what I shouldn’t do!” I yell suddenly, making him jump on the bed. His notebook falls on the ground followed by his pen.

I’m pretty sure it’s the first time I’ve yelled since what feels like forever. I sure never yelled in front of Duke before, nor did I ever yell at him. My voice is not all breathy but rather deep and scorching. God, even my throat is painful now.

“Calm down,” he replies soothingly, his hands up in front of him.

I glare at him and shake my head. “I’m not going to calm down until I have some answers.” I’m breathing loudly, my voice is hard. I hate the hole in my stomach and the pounding in my head. More than anything, I hate this thing between us where there’s always one of us pushing the other away. I’m fed up with this pattern.

Suddenly, his demeanor changes completely. He’s not trying to soothe me. His eyes strike me on my spot on the bed, hard and cold. His mouth is pursed angrily. His thick black eyebrows are hooding his eyes and his body is rigid. He leans toward me, his face a breath away from mine. I can smell the cigarette he smoked earlier and the faint hint of coffee coming from his slightly open mouth.

“You want to know what’s going on?” he says under his breath, his eyes locked with mine. I can’t even blink, and I’m not sure I’m really breathing either.

He doesn’t wait for an answer. He closes his eyes and crushes his mouth over mine forcefully. I’m not prepared and I can’t help a little yelp from escaping me under his assault that has my heart in a frenzy and my hands all sweaty. I’m ashamed about it but he’s frightening me right now.

He puts a hand behind my head to hold me against him and moves his lips. He’s demanding, intense. Despite my fear, despite my doubts, I follow his lead. He sneaks his tongue in my mouth at the first opportunity and intensifies the kiss. It’s strong, too strong for me.

He creeps closer toward me, crushing his tall body against mine. I’m trapped between him and the wall. I’m powerless and I don’t know what to do. He bites lightly on my lower lip before resuming his kiss. I don’t push him away; I don’t try to wriggle free. I just follow his lead in the kiss and keep my arms close against my shaking body.

Suddenly, as suddenly as he began the kiss, he breaks it. I’m breathless and shaking, but it’s not at all because it was good. He’s an amazing kisser—thanks to his great experience provided by the female students of Seattle—but it was too much for me. I can’t get into it when it feels more like punishment than pleasure. I can’t lose myself in a kiss if I feel uneasy. It’s too much like Sean when he wanted to kiss me or have sex. I just followed instead of really participating.

A tear rolls down my cheek and I dry it quickly. Duke is looking at me, his eyes still dark, still hard. It’s difficult for me not to look away. He wanted to drive me away but I’m not going to let him do it. I’m not going to run away again just because I’m out of my comfort zone. I won’t give him the satisfaction because he doesn’t want to talk to me. I won’t let him take the easier path this time.

“One way or another you’ll have to talk to me about why you feel guilty about Juliet.” My voice is small, but my words are not.

He loses his color and frowns more, pointing at me angrily. “Don’t ever say her name.”

I feel my eyes getting all watery but I ignore it. I’ll have plenty of time to let myself drown in my emotions later when I’m alone. “So I shouldn’t ask you if your necklace was from her either?”

He comes closer to me, his eyes sending a clear message not to mess with him right now. “You should learn to shut up.”

“And you should learn to talk to me!”

He stands up, grabs his stuff, and throws everything haphazardly in his backpack. “Don’t you get it by now? I don’t want to talk to you. Ever,” he says in a cold, calm way that crushes me more than everything else until then.

My breath catches in my throat and I don’t try to stop him. It’s useless. I pushed too much. I let my tears free and sob, releasing the tension. Facing him like that was frightening. Maybe I shouldn’t trust him completely after all, just like he doesn’t seem to trust me fully. Shit, is it always so hard to get close to someone?

He slams out of the room, never once turning back to me.

*  *  *

“Wow,” Kate whispers after I calm down enough to tell her what happened half an hour ago. “I knew he was intense, but damn it!”