Twisted Summer (5 page)

“So…what’s the plan for today?”

“Mmph.” He swallowed, trying not to grin. “There’s a good hike I thought you’d like to try—leads to my favourite pub. We can have lunch and stuff.”

Normally, that would have sounded about as appealing as an afternoon with Mum. But in Gabe’s company?

“Sounds good. I don’t think I packed hiking stuff, though.”

“Have you got trainers? They’ll do.”

I nodded.

“Well.” He reached for the ketchup. “So long as we remember the sunblock today, I reckon you’ll be fine.”

The sunshine was glorious again; it poured down from the clouds and into every pore of me. I wore only denim cut-offs and a vest, but even the lining of my throat throbbed with heat as we set off along the top of the cliff. Gabe wore surfy wrap-around sunglasses and another pair of knee-skimming board shorts.

He started to point out plants in their Latin names as we walked.
Polypodiaceae, acrostichum
. The more I mocked him, the more he laughed and chose more outlandish words to pronounce.

“Is this how you entertain all your guests?” I asked.

“By boring them stupid with plant talk? Oh yeah. I beast them with it. Destroy them.”

“That your way of saying you don’t have guests?”

He chuckled. “Danni, I live right by the beach. Trust me, I get plenty of company. Half my mates study in the same field as me and they’re off traveling around the world; when they come back, they need a place to say. My sofa has seen some action, let me tell you.” He paused. “That came out wrong.”

I laughed. “I hope it’s wipe-clean.”

“So what about your friends? Only you haven’t mentioned any yet.” He chewed his lip. “Just Esmé.”

My defenses crept back up. “I have friends.”

“That wasn’t what I meant. I’m sorry.”

I stumbled briefly over a patch of rocks. “No, it’s okay. I met Es because we both play hockey. The team…they’re my friends.” Which was true. Sort of. Esmé just didn’t like hanging around them so much anymore since we got together. She liked us to be alone.

“You play hockey? Awesome.”

“Only at school. And I’ve left now, so…not so much.”

“There’ll be a team at your uni,” he said.

“Yeah…Es probably won’t want me to join.”

He chewed his lip again. “I see.”

“She can be kind of…” Possessive? It felt wrong saying that, like I was implying something bad. “Intense.”

“Oh.” He smiled ruefully. “Been there.”

Awkward silence.

“Danni?”

I wiped the sweat from my brow. It left my palm slick. “Whuh?”

“Get a bloody move on. I’m starving here.”

By the time we reached the Mermaid Inn, he was finding excuses to pinch my waist and tickle the insides of my forearms. For every brush of his fingers, I bit down on the urge to giggle; the walk had loosened my surf-stiff limbs and I felt euphoric in the stretch of them. When we collapsed on a table outside the bar, I took great, heaving breaths of warm air and sun-soaked scenery. We were right on the edge of the cliff, and all that separated us from the beach below was a silver rail and a drop of thirty feet. Seagulls gathered on an empty table opposite and eyed me in that suspicious way birds have a habit of doing.

It was too hot for proper food. Instead, Gabe ordered us stodgy ice cream sundaes with velvety chocolate flakes and fluted wafers. They arrived at our table already melting in their glasses.

“I’ve never tried pear cider before.” I watched the ice swim in the pale gold liquid. “It’s yummy.”

“Don’t tell your mother.”

“I can drink. Mr. Law says so.”

“But your Mum doesn’t, and she’ll bitch kick me in the hairies.”

I watched him lick strawberry ice cream from his spoon. Studied the way his tongue lathed the flat of it.
Oy vey
.

“Did you think any more on what we talked about?” he said.

“Hmm?”

“You know. About your Mum’s boyfriend, and cutting her a bit of slack.”

I sipped the cider to cool my throat. “Yeah.” Liar! “I…um. I’ll try. I’m not sure how good I’ll be at it, though.”

“Does she wind you up?”

“Like a jack in the box.” I prodded my wafer, now floating in a pool of melted vanilla. “She always has to pick, pick, pick. Like every argument we have is a scab. She can’t let anything go and then I end up saying something stupid.”

“You’re eighteen. You’re going to say stupid things.” He nudged my hand gently. “Cut yourself a little slack too, Danni.”

“Why? I feel like she really hates me sometimes. I missed my favourite band’s gig last night because she made me come here.” I stabbed at the wafer, resentment simmering in the gaps between my ribs. “It’s all right for you—you don’t live with her.”

“But I did. Once.”

I poked my tongue out at him and he ducked his head, tittering.

“Grow up, Danni.”

“Do you ever wonder what it’d be like not to be a smug eco know-it-all?” I teased.

He sat back, folded his arms. Eyed me with malicious curiosity. “Do you ever wonder what it’d be like to be with a man?”

I don’t know who went red first, but it was a close call. He knew it was inappropriate before the words fell out of his mouth but there they were, hanging in mid air with dubious expressions.
Er, dude,
they said.
Really?!

“I kissed a couple of boys,” I said feebly. “Esmé’s…special.”

“Special’s…special’s good.” He cleared his throat, looking away. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

But he had. He kept doing it. And with that realization, a pair of raspy voices began an argument in my head:

He likes you, Danni. He
likes
you.

Oh, come off it. He’s practically your uncle. That’d be just WRONG.

Look now. Right now! He’s staring down your top!

No, he isn’t. Even if he was, he’s too hot for you. If the sun looked at Gabe it would get BLISTERS.

He’s not Chuck Norris.

And thank God for that. Who’d want to screw Chuck Norris?

I think we got off topic.

You’re right. Quick. Stare at his crotch!

“
I’ll blame the cider if you will,” I managed to say, making a great effort to stare at the gorse bushes behind him and
not
his crotch.

“Let this be a lesson to you, madam.” He pointed at me with a mocking grin. “Don’t ever get me drunk.”

We were subdued on the walk home. Conversations kept rising like bubbles, only to burst on my tongue before I could blow them out. When we reached the cool, dark bough of forest that led back to the cabin, we peeled off our sunglasses and stopped to gulp from bottles of water.

“Shade,” I panted. “Thank God for that.”

“You’re looking a lot less crispy than you were yesterday.” He smiled. “Always a plus.”

“A spring chicken and a lobster. What a pair, huh.” I leant back against a tree trunk and closed my eyes, fanning myself. “It’s not supposed to get this hot in England. I’ve had cooler afternoons in Spain.”

“You know something awkward has happened when we’re talking about the weather.”

“Oh.” I glanced over. “Sorry.”

“It wasn’t you, Danni.”

He stepped forward. He was in my space, closer than he should be, undergrowth crunching beneath his hiking shoes. There was a gush of pear-scented breath over my neck before he raised his finger to blot a bead of sweat from my cheekbone. It dragged, hot and damp.
Ah, ah.

I don’t know quite how it happened. That finger drew up to his mouth and he tasted, savored, blinked. When he opened his eyes, I stared right into them, and his pupils swelled inside their silver-gray skins until they brimmed against dark blond lashes. His lips fell from a great height and it just seemed like the thing to do, to catch them with my own…then he was easing my head back by my ponytail, deepening the kiss. He crushed me against him and he was so, so hard against my belly that I yelped on his tongue—his bold, curious tongue.

I was making out with my not-uncle.

I was
making out
with my
not-uncle.

I jerked from his embrace. My chest heaved in desperation for air and for another life, another place, a different time. To be somebody else. Anything.

“That was all kinds of fucked.” I pressed my hand over my mouth as I leered up at him. “Why…?”

I didn’t stop to hear his answer. I tore off toward the cabin, almost skidding into patches of nettles and foxgloved heaps of rocks.

“Danni—!”

It wasn’t long before he caught up; the cider had loosened many things, but his agility wasn’t one of them. He stomped past me and opened the door, closed it as I entered…but I don’t think he expected me to disappear into the bedroom without as much as a cuss thrown in his direction.

“Danni.” I felt the other side of the door brace with his weight. “Open up, please. I can explain—”

“Explain what?” My eyes were wet, my pulse staccato. “That you’re a screwed up pervert? Well? Huh?”

He sighed. “You kissed me back.”

“
Nope, I didn’t.”
Liar!

“You did.” He drummed his fingers against the wall.

“You’re not going to get me out with frickin’ Spooky McTapper.” I sniffed.

A beat. He stopped drumming.

Then he laughed incredulously—I could almost see the way those broad shoulders would rove up and down.

“I’m not trying. Please. Just open the door.”

“
Even if I
did
kiss you too…it doesn’t make it any less fucked.”

Now he leaned back again and the wood groaned with the weight of him.

“I know it’s weird. You…you don’t feel like my niece. And you’re not, not really.” He paused, gulping. His voice was low and conspiratorial. “I know you feel the same way about me. I’ve noticed you looking. And then when you were looking…you stopped being this obnoxious little girl.”

I was so glad I couldn’t see him; this was mortifying. “Stop…stop grooming me!”

“You’re eighteen, for crying out loud.” It sounded a bit like he was convincing himself as much as me. “Look. I won’t tell anyone. You don’t have to tell anyone. Nobody has to know about this, Danni.”

“Why would we want anyone to know?” I said, cautious.

“We wouldn’t. I’m just…pointing that out. That what we do here doesn’t matter like that.”

He wasn’t taking any of it back. This wasn’t his apology. It was another advance.

My head throbbed. Other bits of me throbbed. And before I knew it, my buttery fingers found their way to the door handle and they eased it open with a creak. Gabe stood, chest still heaving, just a few inches away. He looked frustrated and ashamed of himself…and, gah. So
lush
.

“Even if I wasn’t your niece,” I whispered, “I’d still be nearly half your age. And a bit tipsy.”

He gave a helpless shrug, a smile just teasing the edge of his mouth. “I think that’s kind of hot.” Then he plunged balled fists into his pockets as he stamped a foot. “Fuck. I’m going to the nastiest bit of hell, aren’t I?”

I twisted my hair in my hand, needing something to fill my palms desperately. Concentrate! “Even if I wasn’t young and drunk, I’ve got a girlfriend.”

“Your list of excuses is getting annoying, y’know.”

“They’re not excuses. They’re reasons.”

“
Well.” He swallowed heavily. “Now they’re
reasons
…you still buy them?”

“Is it even still cheating if you’re a guy and she’s a girl, do you think?” I can’t believe I said that. I was such a callous bitch. Not that logic had been welcome in my head lately for anything.

“
Do you care? Honestly?” Gabe nudged the button fly of my shorts and I jumped as if he’d poked me with a skewer. “This isn’t going away. I tried. I really tried. And I kept looking for
reasons
that you wouldn’t be interested—they ended up just sounding like excuses. Danni, whatever we do, it stays here.”

Panic. Panic. My pulse thumped painfully in my ears and before he could reach for me again, I slammed the door in his face and twisted the catch on.

He groaned. “I’m sorry. I’ll call your Mum if you want her to pick you—”

“No!” I shrieked. “I just…I need some time…”

“Okay. Okay. I’ll be out here if you need me. When you need me.”

When you need me.
Oh God. It’s like he knows.

He
does
know.

I paced. Ruffled my hair. I waved my phone around like a moron as if it might magically catch some signal (why didn’t I text Esmé at the pub? Oh yes, that’s right—I was too busy lusting after Gabe). Nothing shook away the smell of the cider on his breath before he kissed me, or the penetrating sweetness of it
as
he kissed me—