Torrential (6 page)

“And I suppose if I don’t, you’ll tell everyone that Sebastian Crane nearly drowned last night.” There’s more than a little bitterness in his voice as he opens his locker, yanking out his bag.

I think about how excited my mom sounded on the phone. “It’ll be fun, okay? You look like you really need to relax. Some booze and music is probably just what the doctor ordered. Or it’s what he would order, if you’d gone to see one.”

He turns suddenly and then he’s in front of me. He presses his hand against the wall above my head, leaning in deathly close. I can feel the steam on his body. My heart kicks into overdrive, and suddenly I can’t find my breath. I wonder if it would be any easier to talk to him with his shirt
on
.

“Stay away from me, May Young,” he says, his voice ragged. “You don’t want me in your life.”

He stays for a second longer, so close I can count the flecks of silver in his eyes, before turning his back on me. He grabs his bag and heads for the door.

“So I’ll meet you in the parking lot at ten?” I ask brightly.

He stops for a moment, the muscles in his back shoulders knotted, and for a minute the only sound is our breathing. Then he leaves me alone in the steamy locker room, shutting the door without a word.

CHAPTER FOUR

MAY

“No.”

“I’ll do your laundry for the next two weeks. I’ll buy you lunch. I’ll put in a good word with
Opal.”

“No fucking
way
, May!”

“Please, Tanner!” I get on my knees, which is a difficult feat in my skintight black mini-dress—I want to make a good impression during my first night out around Rothschild. It definitely does not have a single thing to do with impressing Sebastian. “
There are probably things you owe me for. I let you copy my homework for like, half of math class in tenth grade—”

“Let me make you a list o
f the things I would rather do.” Tanner starts pacing the hallway, running his fingers through his blonde waves. “One—stab my eyeballs with forks. Two—jump into lava. Three—should I go on?”

I sigh. I was really hoping I wouldn’t have to explain
Opal’s bet to Tanner, but he’s reacting even more badly to my suggestion that we bring Sebastian to the club than I thought he would. I don’t have a choice but to tell him the truth. Quietly, I explain to him about Opal’s offer and the fact that my mom got a call.

Tanner’s eyes fly open. “That is the second weirdest thing I’ve ever heard. Right behind you asking me to bring Sebastian Crane to a club.
How the hell did you even get him to agree? I don’t think the guy’s ever gone out in his life.”

“I tol
d him I thought it’d be fun.” I shift. “Please, Tanner. Please please please please—”

“May, if the stakes are that high, you know I’ll do it.” Tanner ruffles his hair again. “But I won’t enjoy it.”

I’m still not certain that what I got out of Sebastian was an agreement, but when we reach the parking lot, he’s waiting for us. It may be the first time I’ve seen him wearing a shirt—a black V-neck. The way it dips below his collarbone makes my stomach squirm, though I know I really need to stop losing it every time I see him.

The minute Tanner sees him, he gets stony. It’s dark
out, but not dark enough to hide the annoyance in his expression as he knocks open the back door. “Get in, then.”

Sebastian cracks a sneer that I can see is already making Tanner’s blood boil. As soon as Sebastian is in the back, I grab Tanner’s arm before he gets into the driver’s seat. “Play nice,” I plead. “As a favor to me.”

Tanner pretends to bang his head against the metal frame of the door. “You’re the only one I would do something like this for.”

“I know. It means a lot to me.” I keep a hold on him for a second longer, searching his eyes with mine, until he finally exhales and pulls away.

“May, you don’t even know what you do to people.”

Before I can ask what he means by that, he’s in the car, and I’m forced to run around to the side for shotgun. And then the three of us are in a car together—Tanner, Sebastian, and me.

“Rules,” Tanner says loudly, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder toward Sebastian in the backseat. “You’re designated driver. I’m gonna need to get drunk to put up with your presence. And no talking in the car. At least wait until I’m somewhere where the music can drown you out.”

“Tanner,” I gasp. “Sebastian, ignore him. He’s being an idiot.”

In response, Tanner turns the radio all the way up. Sebastian doesn’t bother with a response. He wears a mocking smile that says all he needs to, and I know it’s driving Tanner insane.

Despite the palpable tension, though, I’m really glad Sebastian came. I’m realizing that my fascination with him doesn’t actually have anything to do with
Opal’s bet. Every time I look at him, I get the overwhelming sense that he’s hiding something. That there’s something behind the icy veneer.

I want to know what it is.

And something in me wants to be there for him, even though I know he doesn’t want anything to do with me. There’s a hint of vulnerability about him, and seeing him almost die has instilled me with an odd sense of protectiveness. I want him to have friends to celebrate with after winning a swim meet. Honestly, I just hate the sight of him so alone.

Maybe
I know how it feels.

The club is only a few minutes into the college town outside campus. Tanner parallel parks in front of a building with heavy bass issuing from the door, a bored-looking security guard standing out front with his arms crossed. I sling my purse over my shoulder and step out into the cool night. Sebastian’s already out, gazing at the building like it’s a dentist’s office and he’s a kid with a lot of cavities.

“Onward,” says Tanner briskly and brushes past Sebastian, flashing his I.D at the security guard before gesturing for me to follow. I hesitate for a second before grabbing Sebastian’s elbow and pulling him with me.

We step into a world of darkness punctuated by flashing lights. Tanner
tosses me the car keys, since he usually disappears with a girl, and is off immediately, ordering three drinks and downing them in quick succession. A minute later, he’s dancing with some redheaded chick.

It’s crowded enough that I’ll feel comfortable dancing, but it’s not packed. I turn around to ask Sebastian how he’s doing, but he’s gone. I scan the room and spot him leaning against a wall, out of the way of the darting lights. I sigh. I guess I’ll let him acclimate.

In the meantime, I dance. I’ve always loved dancing—it’s almost like swimming. I’ve been growing out my hair for years and it’s right at that point where it’s pretty long, past my lower back, and I should have put it up, but instead it sticks to the back of my neck as I close my eyes and just move to the beat.

Every so often a guy will try to
push in, but I just dance in a different direction. That’s the only part that annoys me about clubs—the cat and mouse game. Nobody understands a girl who wants to dance by herself. And I’ll be dancing by myself for the rest of my life. I decided that the second my dad walked out—people who count on love are stupid.

I’m stupid in a lot of ways, but not like that.

I dance until I’m sweaty and probably revolting, and then I glance over at Sebastian. He’s still leaning against the wall, the shadows nearly concealing him. Every so often, a stray light will play across his face, lighting up his cheekbones and jawline. His eyes are closed. He’s tapping his foot. I wonder if that means he’s enjoying himself. I hope so.

I have to buy and drink
a couple shots before I can work up the courage to go talk to him. No wonder girls never approach him. He exudes an aura that makes you want to run away and hide.

His eyes are still shut
when I approach him, and I think I’m going to startle him, but he opens them before I talk, like he was expecting me. “How are you doing?” I ask, my voice the tiniest bit loose from the shots. “Your foot dances very well. You should let the rest of your body join it.”

“Why don’t you dance with anyone?” he asks abruptly.

I let my body sink into the wall beside him, half because I’m a panting mess and half because it’s a difficult question. “It’s kind of a long story, but I’ll make it short. My dad walked out on my mom when I was little, and I haven’t seen him since. It broke my mom’s heart. She was never the same. I swore I would never let that happen to me. Does that make sense?”

He
probably thinks I’m a moron, spilling my life story at the slightest question. I add hurriedly, “And, I mean, I don’t want to lead anyone on by dancing with them if I’m not ever going to fall in love.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “I doubt it’s love they’re interested in, judging by the bunch that’s been approaching you.”

“I also just like dancing by myself,” I say, wiping my sweaty forehead. “It feels freer, moving when you’re alone. But I actually came over here to ask you to dance with me. Well, the May form of with me, so more in my general vicinity.”

He tilts his head to the side and I realize he’s studying me, almost clinically. I have to knock my elbow against the wall to keep from getting lost in his eyes again. They’re like mines, glittering with gemstones. “You are the strangest person I’ve ever met.”

I smile. “Likewise.” I extend a hand. “Come with me?”

He looks at my hand, and for a second, it seems like he’s considering. Then his face locks down again and he glances away. “
I’d prefer to sit this torture out in a place where I’m least likely to be bombarded by sweaty idiots.”

“You’re being bombarded by a sweaty idiot right now,” I say, lightly hitting his shoulder. “But you should do whatever makes you happy.”

I fight to keep my smile until he can’t see my face anymore, and then I let it slip. I can’t pretend I’m not stung. For a second, he was talking to me like a normal human being. Well, as close as Sebastian’s likely to get. But he must have been watching me to notice I was dancing by myself.

I catch a glimpse of Tanner at the oppose end of the club, totall
y wasting, still grinding with the redhead. At least someone’s having a good time.

A few minutes of muscle-aching
dance oblivion later, a hand brushes against my butt. I think it’s an accident and I ignore it, but then it comes back with a few groping fingers thrown in to boot. I open my eyes. Some thickset guy with a bro haircut is leering at me.

I try to spin away like I always do, but in a second he’s beside me again. “Hey sexy,” he says loudly in my ear, slipping his arm around my hip.

“Go away,” I tell him, irritated, but his grip only tightens.

“Why you alone, baby?”

“Because she wants to be,” comes a low growl, and I realize with utter shock that it’s Sebastian. He’s materialized beside me, practically emanating intimidation. I have no idea where he came from.

The pervy guy withdraws his arm fast. “The fuck is your problem, man?”

“You don’t want to find out.” Sebastian’s expression could petrify wood. I’m struck again by how tall he is—he towers over both of us. Even in the darkness, his muscles are visible through the lines in his shirt.

The guy wavers, like he’s considering throwing a punch, and then—Sebastian draws me into the crook of his shoulder. Completely shocked, all I can do is breathe in his surprisingly warm scent as his other arm moves to the small of my back. Over my head, I hear him say, “She’s mine.”

A second later, Sebastian releases me. The pervy guy is gone. My head is spinning—did Sebastian just embrace me?—but when I look up at him, his face is pained.

“
I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I thought it would be the fastest way to get rid of him.”

“No—thank you.” I’m still having trouble catching my breath. The electricity that fed between us when I was pressed to him—I can’t be the only one who fe
lt it. I need to feel it again. “Dance with me for a couple minutes. Before he comes back.”

“I don’t dance,” he says. A little of his cool reserve has slipped.

“If you’re a swimmer, you’re a dancer.” It must be the alcohol, because I’m definitely not brave enough to do on my own what I’m doing now. I slip my hand around his back, his muscles hard as steel, and draw him closer. “Move like you’re underwater. Pretend the music is the water.”

“You’re full of odd comparisons,” he murmurs. I
can feel the low vibration of his voice in his chest. I feel his breathing too, the steady expand and fall, and it’s such a relief after seeing it stopped.

“I’m glad you’re breathing,” I tell him.

His eyes are dark and inscrutable. “Likewise.”

“Likewise?” I laugh. “That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, that you’ve implied you’re glad I’m breathing.”

“If you weren’t breathing, I wouldn’t be either.” He hesitates. I can sense the tension increasing in his body. “I never said thank you.”

“
I took the ‘you’re glad I’m breathing’ thing as a thank you just now.” Our bodies move together, elevating my heartbeat to lightning-fast levels. “You’re welcome.”

“You’re the most confusing thing that’s happened to me in a long time,” he mutters.