Scarred Beautiful (8 page)

“Hey,” I utter, when I can finally find my voice and stop blatantly checking him out.

“Hey, yourself,” he replies, moving his eyes over my frame with appreciation. “Oh,” he starts, grinning, “before you say anything, I’m not here for sex, just a day trip.”

His comment makes me smile and my cheeks turn pink. He’s giving me a dose of my own medicine and it’s my turn to volley back. “Oh well”—I flip my ponytail around my finger—“and to think I might have said
yes
.”

My words catch him off guard and he raises an eyebrow before sweeping his gaze up and over my body once again. “One point for you,” he admits, chuckling, “let’s go.”

Jesus, if she isn’t the most beautiful, aggravating woman I’ve ever seen. I lag behind her just so I can watch her hips sway in that snug little skirt she’s wearing. She’s got killer legs, long, toned, and lean, and I have to close my eyes momentarily and breathe deeply in an attempt to remove the image of them wrapped around me.

She turns around right after the air has left my lungs, a steady hand on her hip. “What are you doing?”

“Uh…nothing, really, I’m…moving a little slow because I worked out pretty hard this morning.” I fall in step with her, disappointed that I can no longer stare at her ass.

Fran arches one of her dark, manicured brows, a question on the tip of her tongue. “So how’s
your
ass this morning?”

My eyebrows pull in, while my mind tries to unearth just what the hell she’s talking about. “Excuse me?”

“You know.” She looks behind me, pointing with her finger. “I was wondering if you were able to remove the stick.”

“You’ve got a little spark, don’t you?” I ask, chuckling at her constant ability to get under my freaking skin. It’s like she’s yanking my chain and I’m on my hands and knees, begging for her to pull just a little bit harder.

“Maybe…and maybe not,” she utters, shooting me a wink and tilting her head, that gorgeous silky hair falling over her shoulder making me wonder what it would feel like between my fingers.

We get on the elevator, neither of us saying a word, but I can feel the energy charging the air between us. She does something to me—what, I’m not quite sure—but there’s something nagging at me, telling me to find out what the hell it is. I just don’t know if I should listen or not.

I raise my eyes to meet hers. “What, no sex comments on the elevator today?”

“Actions speak louder than words,” she taunts, wetting her lips with her tongue, and I nearly explode in my pants.

Holy fuck.

I’ve never had sex in an elevator before, but there’s a first time for everything. One thing’s for damn sure, I’m about two seconds away from finding out if it lives up to the hype.

My pulse is thumping feverishly and I’m suddenly anxious to get off this elevator. His eyes have darkened and his stance has shifted. I struggle to break his stare, tapping my foot nervously and watching the numbers light up on the panel as we make our way down to the lobby. My breathing picks up and the walls are closing in, the feelings foreign and strange because I don’t think they have anything to do with my old fear of elevators but everything to do with the guy standing before me. Thankfully the car dings, and when it does, I practically run out, eager to get away from him.

I smack into an elegant arrangement of pink lilies on the center table in the lobby. The scent fills my nose, making me feel dizzy, bathing me in Kyle’s memory, the one that invades my mind and envelops my heart. The silent reminder of why I’ll always be alone.

It wasn’t until recently that I finally came to terms with waking up on Fridays knowing I wouldn’t receive those fragrant lilies he always sent. I’ll never forget that last delivery. It was the Friday before we left for Hawaii. The card in Kyle’s handwriting read:
There is only one word to describe your eyes…mesmerizing. There is only one word to describe your heart…beautiful. There is only one word to describe our love…forever.

A tear wets my lashes, sliding down my cheek, and I thumb it away. My heart scrunches tight with so much longing and there’s nowhere to channel it, so it sits inside, eating away at me.

I feel Matt’s hand on my shoulder and realize I’ve disappeared momentarily, as he draws me from my past and into my present…the one without Kyle…only me and my scars.

“Are you okay?” he questions softly, his voice laced with concern, his hand providing touch when I need it so desperately.

Without thinking, I throw my arms around him, needing to be held by someone, anyone who can take this awful pain away—the ache that comes from the hole in my heart, the ugliness that resides there serving as a barricade to anyone trying to break in.

He holds me for what feels like minutes as my body sags against his embrace, the warmth of his arms a temporary shelter from the storm brewing within me.

I pull away embarrassed and now unsure of my ability to get through the day, the lure to go back to bed and curl into a ball is strong. “I’m sorry,” I say quietly, unable to look at him, “I don’t think I can do this.”

He reaches down and tilts my chin to meet his gaze, his blue eyes burning with intensity. “I don’t know what you’re going through right now, but I’m here if you want to talk about it. And…as far as today goes, I understand, but I’d love for you to come. It seems like it would do you some good to get some fresh air, and well, we were planning on taking a drive along the Pacific Coast Highway, to Malibu.”

I’m just about to respond when Peyton comes up beside me with a sympathetic smile. “You okay?”

Matt walks away to give us privacy, which I appreciate, and as soon as he’s out of earshot she turns to face me. “What happened?” she asks, her tone gentle and caring, as she pushes a stray hair away from my face.

I let out a huge sigh, my whole body shaking with the exhale of breath. “I saw the lilies and it made me think of Kyle. I just…miss him, that’s all.” I couldn’t tell her how I miss someone looking at me the way that Kyle used to, like the sun rose and set in my eyes. Someone that would touch me with feathery hands and breaths, that would look at me naked with the lights on…and still want me.

“Oh, Fran, I don’t know what to say. I can’t pretend to know how that feels. But I do know one thing, I’m worried about you. Between last night and today, well….” She cocks her head to the side and studies my face. “I think it would be good for you to get out. I’m sure it’s the last thing you want to do, but I think you should push yourself. I can’t stand the thought of you staying behind. Besides,” she laughs out bitterly, “my mom has been calling my cell phone non-stop since I didn’t show up at my sister’s little celebration, and I want to call her and gloat when I’m standing on the beaches of Malibu.” She winks and links her arm with mine. “So, what do you say? Let’s go enjoy the day with two of the hottest guys in LA.”

The corners of my lips curve up, the thought of spending the day in bed suddenly not all that appealing. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Her face bursts with a satisfied smile and we head further into the lobby seeking out Matt and Caleb who are seated in two leather chairs, deep in conversation. Our sandals click loudly on the tile floor signaling our presence, and Matt’s eyes climb to mine, a genuine smile playing on his lips. It’s hard not to smile back.

“Ladies! Let’s blow this joint!” Caleb says excitedly, moving in to squeeze Peyton’s side and pull her close. Matt steals a look in my direction and I shrug, praying that Caleb and Peyton aren’t groping each other during the entire trip.

The valet pulls Matt’s car around, a little too fast for his liking apparently, judging by the scowl on his face.

“Holy fucking shit,” Peyton shouts, “
this
is your car? This thing costs more than I make in a year.”

Matt chuckles while the rest of us break out into laughter. That’s Peyton—funny as hell but possessing the tact of a fly.

Caleb ushers her into the back seat of the car, while Matt comes around to open my door, hesitating on the handle. “I’m…glad you decided to come,” he teases, “otherwise, who would’ve harassed me all day?”

I smile as he opens the door and slide onto the plush tan leather, making sure to pull my skirt down that’s suddenly hiking up my legs. I don’t want him seeing my scars.

Matt revs the engine and the darn thing sounds like an airplane it’s so loud.
Boys and their toys
. The thought makes me shake my head as we pull onto Highway 1 toward Malibu. The windows are rolled down and the sunroof open, the breeze warm and welcoming. It makes me realize this was the right decision.
This
is exactly what I needed.

The breeze causes wisps of hair to stick to my face. I’m attempting to push them back into my ponytail, when the window automatically rolls up. I turn to Matt who has his arm dangling out the window, one hand on the wheel. “What are you doing? I want it open.”

He keeps his eyes on the road but nods in my direction. “I figured you wouldn’t want to mess up your hair.”

I look to my left and my right and crinkle my nose, eyeing him like he has two heads. “You’re kidding, right? I don’t give a shit about my hair. I just want to feel the breeze on my face.” Then it hits me and I start cackling. “Listen, Matt, I’m not like those prissy women you’re probably used to hanging out with—the ones who have a nervous breakdown when they crack a nail, that’s not me. I spent a good portion of my life in the Bronx, and they grow ‘em tough over there.”

He smirks, and even from the side I can tell he’s trying not to bust out a laugh. “
Prissy
women? I don’t spend time with prissy women.”

“Whatever, just open my window, please.”

He pushes a button on the side panel. “There. You can open it yourself now, feisty.”

“Dude, turn on some tunes!” Caleb shouts loudly over the force of the wind coming through the windows. “We don’t feel like listening to the two of you argue like an old married couple. Come on! Let’s get this party started.”

We ignore the comment and Matt turns on the radio and the sound of Justin Timberlake’s “Sexyback” booms through the speakers. Peyton starts singing and when I flip around, she’s raising her hands above her head and Caleb is gyrating his hips to the beat of the music.

I swing my arms around and wave them wildly, singing the lyrics at the top of my lungs. The music moves through me and I close my eyes, my body swaying to the sultry rhythm. When I open them, I catch Matt rolling his eyes, which just pushes me even more. “Matt,” I scream over the thundering lyrics, “lighten up.” I grab his free hand, shaking it in the air, and he lets out a hearty laugh, his whole face relaxing and his dimple making an appearance. He suddenly looks so boyish and absolutely adorable, and it becomes him.

By the time we arrive in Malibu, my voice is hoarse and my legs are cramped. We drive down a narrow dirt road and through a set of gates until we finally reach the parking lot. The tightness in my muscles evaporates when I look to my right and see the vista before me: the towering cliffs overlooking smooth white sand and crisp, blue water, the smattering of boats off in the distance. It’s spectacular.

A year ago, coming to the water would have brought me to my knees, caused me to internally crumble at the sight of the waves thrashing about on the shore, but I’m better now. The one thing I worked so hard to do after Kyle was to not let my favorite place get tainted. He wouldn’t have wanted that for me, and I didn’t want that for myself.

Peyton and Caleb immediately hop out of the car, tossing their shoes in the back seat and running out onto the sand. Matt makes his way over to my side and opens the door. Just as he’s about to close it, I lay a hand on his arm and reach up to him with my eyes.

“You know, you should really laugh more. It’s like the sun breaking through the clouds.”

A blank look crosses his face before it gets covered by a beaming smile. He opens his mouth to say something but then closes it, letting the depth of his smile speak for itself. “Come on, let’s go down to the water.”

We walk past a sign and I stop just in front of it, reading the words that are carved into old, faded slabs of driftwood. They make me smile.