True Loves (A Collection of Firsts) (61 page)

Ugh. He makes my skin crawl.

My pent up rage comes through on my work. I press the brush harder than necessary into the canvas. 

“Damn, Nat. Easy,” Stew says.

Anger floods my brain. Easy? How dare he even speak to me, let alone try to tell me what to do. My nostrils flare and I take a calming breath, but it doesn’t help. Out of spite I dig at it harder, practically obliterating the brush.

His eyes narrow. “What the hell is your problem?”

Through clenched teeth, I growl, “You! You’re my problem.”

“Me? I didn’t do anything to you.”

I set my eyes on him. Is he really that stupid? “Oh, no?”

“No,” he answers, his eyes hard. “I should be the one pissed. You keep flaunting Steele in front of my face like you have no heart.”    

Me have no heart? Before I realize what I’m doing, I fling my brush at his chest. Black paint splatters across the front of his white Polo shirt. He throws his hands out in a ‘Stop’ motion and stares at me, surprise written all over his face.

“Fuck you, Stew! What do you know about heart?” I yell as I stand and grab my bag.

His face turns white.

“Miss Sugarman!” Dr. Woods yells. 

The Art doors swing open. I run my fingers through my hair and take a deep breath. My pulse races as the adrenaline flows through my veins. The satisfaction of finally screaming at Stew fills every inch of me.  Dr. Woods probably thinks I’m a raging bitch now, but whatever. It was worth it.

I detour into the girl’s restroom. The dampness here chills me to the bone and the smell of a recently snuffed cigarette still lingers in the confined space. Sometimes I like to study in here. This is a place I can breathe, far from prying eyes because no one ever comes in here. 

I toss my bag to the water-speckled floor and grip the gleaming white sink with shaky fingers. The warm water in my haven doesn’t work, so I twist the cold knob. My cupped hands fill with water and I splash it on my face. The person in the mirror peering back at me looks weak, not powerful like I’d felt a few minutes ago when I told Stew off.

Thoughts buzz in my brain. Would Rick eventually treat me the same way?

My heart aches with the loneliness I’d feel if Rick walked out of my life right now too. He’s all I have. Alicia is gone. Stew makes my skin crawl, and Mom and Dad don’t want to hear about my problems. In such a short time Rick and I have grown so close. The pull between us was instant, way back to the first day in the parking lot. He accepted me, no questions asked. Stewart and Rick are polar opposites, but I’m drawn to both. One pushes my commitment away, while the other can’t wait for us to be together.  

The water drips off my chin, and I notice my make-up is smeared. I crank out a large piece of scratchy paper towel and methodically dry my face.  

My stomach bubbles with dread as I throw my paper towel in the trash can. I snatch my bag off the floor and remember the paper Stew slipped in there. Curious, I dig through it until I find a little two by two folded piece of paper. With my bag snuggly on my shoulder, I unfold the note. I smooth out the creases, and read his tiny, very guy-like writing. “We need to talk.” 

Like hell we do. I don’t care what he has to say. The anger I just stomped down returns and the paper instantly gets wadded into a tiny round ball. My fingers squeeze so hard they turn white. Stew and his bullshit can kiss my ass. I’ve got more important things to focus on than him—like a kindergarten demon that’s out to kill me. 

After slamming the note in the trash, I head out. The empty dank hallway echoes with each step I take, filling the atmosphere with dread. What the fuck is happening to me?

A
tap
on my bedroom door nearly scares me to death. I was zoned out, worried about all possible scenarios that could happen tonight at Taylor Gee’s party. I’ve tried talking to Taylor a couple times about her grandma, but she always brushes me off and tells me “not at school.” 

I stare at my door through my dresser mirror. “Come in,” I call.

Rick steps into my bedroom with his hand behind his back. His tall frame fills my doorway. He looks good—dressed to kill in a navy blue shirt and dark-blue jeans. The tattoos on his right arm are the only thing about him that screams I am a bad boy. Well, that and the little smirk he does that makes me swoon a little every time. His dark hair hangs loose and frames his handsome face. He wears the bad boy, surfer hair look well.  

I turn to greet him. “Hey.”

He smiles sheepishly. “Your mom said I could come up. Hope you don’t mind.”

Of course she’s fine with it. The idea of me with a guy like Rick is a dream come true for her. “No. It’s fine.”

He closes the door behind him and pulls out a bouquet. “These are for you.”

Wide-eyed, I take the flowers from his grasp. No one has ever given me flowers before and yet the gift feels quite natural. I’m drawn to the purple color of the flowers, like they are my favorites and I never knew it. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.”

“I thought you’d like those.” He grins. “They’re called forget-me-nots.”

Forget-me-nots, how subtle. My lips turn up into a natural smile. “They’re great.”

“Can I at least get a hug in exchange?”

Instinctively, I wrap my arms around him. When I pull back, we are nose to nose. I search his face, and I get lost in his eyes. They’re warm and inviting, and the way they stare into mine sends a tingle all the way to my toes. He leans in and places his lips to mine. He threads his fingers in my hair. The sensation of him so close stirs a hunger I have never felt before. Our bodies press together tightly and my hand rubs his neck. 

I don’t want him to stop, which is completely wrong. I can’t believe I’m so into him. I can’t explain it. 

With a groan, he pulls away and leaves me breathless. 

“You drive me crazy. Do you know that?” he whispers and gives me a little peck on the lips. 

The desire to be near him gnaws in my gut. It’s crazy that I feel this kind of connection with a guy I barely know. The more time I spend with him, the more I need him. I’ve never been one to depend on people, but Rick makes it so easy. He’s not like anyone I’ve ever known. He accepts me for who I am, never tries to change me.

“So, are you about ready?” he asks.

“Yeah. Let me put these in some water.” I gesture toward the flowers. “I’ll be right back.”

Without thinking, I leave him in my room, alone, while I scamper off to the kitchen. Mom greets me as I step into the kitchen with a huge smile on her face. 

Oh God, please don’t say anything about Rick. 

“Aren’t those beautiful, Natalie? Rick is such a nice young man.”

My face inflames as blood rushes to my cheeks. I turn my head away from her, grab a vase from under the sink, and fill it with water. No way do I want to talk boys 
with my mother
.

Thankfully, she doesn’t say another word while I’m in there. I turn on my heel and head back upstairs. I startle Rick when I walk in. He’s sitting on my bed, thumbing through the sketchbook I left on my night stand.

My eyes narrow into little slits as my private images are being pawed through—being judged. “I usually don’t show those to anyone.”

“Sorry. I was a little bored.” He closes the book. “These are really good. You should change your major.”

I roll my eyes. “Please. Have you met my parents? Art is not a real major to them. Besides I don’t think I’ll be around long enough to actually finish a degree.”

“Ah. That’s right. The demon-has-my-soul-and-wants-to-kill-me-thing.” He pushes himself up from my bed. He takes my hand, pulling my knuckles to his lips. “I told you I’m working on that.”

I pull my hand away. “This isn’t a joke, Rick. What I told you about the demon boy is real.”

A strand of hair falls against my cheek and he tucks it behind my ear. “I know.”

The way he looks at me makes my insides knot. Either he believes me or he’s a great actor. There’s so much I want to tell him. Maybe he can help. “He came to see me again, you know.”

Rick’s eyes narrow. “Who? Masterson?”

I shake my head and roll my eyes. “No. How many times do I have to tell you, that’s over.”

His face relaxes a little. “Yeah, I heard about the paint today.”

A groan escapes my lips as I bury my face in my hands. Rick pulls me down beside him on the bed. “Stew is an asshole. He’s lucky it was just paint and not a fist to the face.”

That makes Rick laugh. “Let’s hope I never piss you off.”

“I highly doubt that would ever happen. You’re not like all the other jerks around here. You’d never lie to me.”

He frowns. “Natalie…” The way he says my names sounds bad. Like what he’s about to tell me isn’t good news. “There is something I am keeping from you.”

I knew it. He is too good to be true. “You have a girlfriend or something, right?”

“What?” The bewildered look on his face speaks volumes. “No. Why would you think that?”

“Because, Rick. Nothing good ever happens to me. People always let me down when I peel back their layers. They’re never who they say they are. You have become my best friend. The one person I can trust. So, what is it then?” Tears sting my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. Hopefully whatever he’s hiding isn’t something that will make me hate him. 

He’s quiet for a second while he searches my face. “I’m…”—he swallows like he’s getting choked-up, but then he gives me a sad smile—“It’s—it’s nothing, really. I mean, I can’t dance, and well, I was worried you wouldn’t want to be my date for this party if you knew.”

My right fist connects with his shoulder. “Dancing? You let me worry like that because you can’t dance? Maybe you are a jerk after all.”

He laughs. “I’m sorry. I just wanted you to know before we got to serious. No dancing is sometimes a deal breaker.” I shake my head at him, but he just grins even more. “So, are you ready to go to your new BFF’s party?”

I squeeze my eyes shut and sigh. “I dread seeing her, actually. There is something I need to talk to her about, but I don’t want to go to another party.”

“We don’t have to go. You can just talk to her at school, right? We can do something else if you’d rather. I have her cell number. You can text her and tell her we aren’t going to make it.” He pushes a lock of my hair off my shoulder and his fingers linger on the exposed skin where my shoulder and neck meet.

“Okay, sounds good.” I bite my lip. “No movies, though. Okay?”

“I think I’ve learned my lesson there. What do you have in mind?”

Rick’s staring at me expectantly, waiting for my solution. My gaze shifts to his lips and the only thing flashing in my brain is kissing him again. I know the demon said no loose ends, but maybe a little fling with Rick can keep me happy for the rest of eternity. Dying a virgin has crossed my mind a time or two. How lame would that be? Rick obviously has no problem with getting close to me. And even though I’m not exactly in love with him, more like of a serious like, maybe getting close to Rick would be okay.   

Sheepishly, I smile at him. “Well, you’ve been to my house a few times, but I don’t even have a clue where you live. That’s something a girlfriend should know, right?”

He raises an eyebrow. “So, are we official now?”

It seems less slutty as long as we are a couple. “Yeah. I mean, if you want.”

My heart pauses on a beat for a millisecond until a grin stretches across his face. “So that’s a yes?” I ask, probing him for answers.

“Yes. It’s a definite yes.” I bite my lip, fighting my elated grin. He grazes my cheek with his fingertips. “I’ve wanted this more than you know.”

His lips press to mine, and butterflies twist in the pit of my stomach. The feeling of belonging to someone engulfs me, and the desire to be close to Rick pulsates through my veins. If we had more time, I think I could love him. I mean, 
really
 love him. He’s practically the ideal guy. A girl would have to be completely insane not to fall for him.   

Rick pulls away. His charcoal-gray eyes stir with need. “Come on. Let’s go to my place. There’s no one there.”

Once in his car, he steals a glance in my direction every couple of minutes. My hand rests in his while he shifts gears. A smile tickles my lips when I meet his eyes. My body fills with nervous anticipation when Rick slows and turns down an alley. It leads to a private driveway, which then turns into an empty parking lot. I gawk at the sign on the building.

My left eye brow lifts. “Um, Rick? What are we doing at Fletcher’s Funeral Home?”

He turns toward me. “You said you wanted to see where I lived.”

A shudder runs down my spine. “Seriously? You live here?”

Creepy.

He shrugs his shoulders. “It’s not as bad as you think. Actually, I don’t live in the funeral parlor. I live there.” He points to the second floor above the three-car garage. “It’s a small apartment and my family owns the funeral parlor so I don’t even have to pay rent while I’m in school.”

“So, you live alone?” 

“Awesome, huh?” He waggles his eyebrows. “Come on. I’ll show you my bachelor pad.”

We make our way up the outside staircase leading to Rick’s place. He unlocks the door, turns on the light, and leads me inside. “It’s not much, but it’s better than living with a roommate or with my family.”

“You don’t like Dr. Fletcher?” I ask before I realize I’ve just let it slip that I know her. That was one secret I didn’t want him knowing.

Rick stops mid stride and tilts his head. “You know Lilim?”

The back of my neck stings with tension, so I rub it. “Yeah. She’s sort of my shrink. I’ve been going to one since I was a teenager and got caught with a deadly weapon trying to protect myself from a demon. It’s nice to talk about the demon stuff with someone who will keep it confidential.”

He chuckles. “You were really going to shoot him, weren’t you? I can tell you don’t like him.”

A humph escapes my lips. “Hate him is more like it.” Then I stop dead in my tracks. I don’t remember ever telling him I got caught with a gun specifically. I referred to it as a weapon only.  “I never said anything about a gun to you before. How did you know?”

Rick shrugs. “You must have told me.” The he quickly tries to get us back on track of our original conversation. “Hate is such a strong word, Nat.”

My eyes search his face, but he’s relaxed, not a hint of tension in his face. So, I decide to relax. I must’ve told him about the gun and forgot about it. “Not strong enough to truly describe my feelings toward him though.”

His fingers rub my shoulder. “He might just grow on you. You have a whole eternity to get to know him, right?”

I push his hand off me. “Ha. Ha. Very funny, Rick.”

He smiles. “You never know.”

"It’s nice in here,” I say as I take in the dark green walls and white-carpeted room. “Very manly.” 

He sits on his black leather couch, which takes up most of the claustrophobic room, and pats the cushion beside him. Without question, I fold myself onto the seat next to him. He throws his arm around me. It feels natural. Cozy. I turn my face toward him. 

His eyes are smiling more than his lips when he whispers, “Hi.”

I smile back. “Hi.”

My hair drifts into my eyes, and he brushes it away from my face. His thumb traces my cheek. Electric tingles zing deep into my bones. I turn my head into his hand and nuzzle it. Rick tilts my chin up and kisses me deeply. The smell of him swirls around me as my fingers find their way into his long hair. He crushes me to him, yet it still doesn’t feel close enough. 

He traces my bottom lip with his tongue and runs his hand down my back, stopping at my waist—testing the waters. Warm fingers slide under my shirt, and my whole body starts to tingle. My bones hum with need as I squeeze myself tighter against his chest. He kisses me so deep, I’m not sure I’m even living on air anymore. The very essence of Rick seems to be enough to sustain my very existence.

I lie back on the couch and pull his body on top of mine. We lay there, pressed together like magnets, as I trace the waistband of his jeans with a light touch. A moan reverberates in his chest as his fingers knot in my hair. 

My fingers need to explore. They find their way underneath his shirt and onto his muscular frame. The ripples of his abs glide under my hands, and I memorize every inch of him by touch. My insides burn with intense heat, one I’ve never felt before. A flame only Rick can extinguish. Gentle kisses trail down my neck, and I toss my head back and let a little groan slip.

He has no idea how much I need this—how much I need him. 

Panting a little I realize I’ve never wanted someone more than I want Rick at this moment. Not even with Stew have I felt such a connection. 

There’s so much heat between us—going all the way seems like a natural step. A step I need. I reach for the buttons of his jeans, a little unsure if I should take the lead on this. I need him to know I want to do this with him. Rick’s eyes grow wide as his hand grips my wrist.  

“Not here.” His breath is hot on my lips.

My hands freeze as confusion floods my brain. A flash of rejection zings my brain. “What? This seems like a perfect time.” 

Without answering me, he rolls off the couch and cradles me in his arms in one motion like I weigh practically nothing. “It is a perfect time. I just meant not on the couch.” He kisses me while I’m pressed against his sculpted chest. “My bedroom has an actual bed and I need to sprawl you out and explore every inch of you.” 

Oh. He scared me for a second, but the thought of being tangled up in some sheets with him excites me. One corner of my lips turns up. “A bed would be good.”

It’s like a scene from an old movie. The one with the bride being carried over the threshold and for some reason it doesn’t even feel cheesy. How could it? The only thing in the air is pure romance and lust.