Very Wicked Things Page 50

Because he denied himself for me.

He was waiting for me.

Later, after he’d toweled off, we eventually crawled into his cool sheets. We spooned and gazed out at the rising sun as it peeked through his venetian blinds.

“When I make you mine, I want it to be out under the moon and stars,” he said quietly, wrapping his muscled arm against my waist. His bare chest was warm, and I burrowed into him. “Maybe at my lake house.”

He kissed the back of my neck. “There’s this huge deck that juts out from my bedroom. I’m going to put a giant sleeping bag out there, and you won’t even know we’re outside. Trust me.”

I pictured that in my mind and clung to it.

I sighed, gazing at the light peeking in the window. “It’s daylight, and I’m not even tired.”

Then, the next thing I knew, I was on my back with his hands on either side of my face.

And he said the one thing that blew me away.

It took me up into the heavens, dropped me and I spiraled down, afraid of crashing but having no way to stop.

“Don’t you see what’s going on? Dovey, we don’t need sleep…because we’re falling in love.”

THE FOLLOWING MONDAY Spider returned to school after being sick with the flu for a week. Between detention, a band trip he’d taken, and then being sick, he’d missed most of it, so I fill him in on everything that had happened between me and Cuba.

“I think I’m falling for him,” I stated baldly to Spider at lunch in the cafeteria.

“You can’t trust him.” Then he proceeded to tell me a story of a girl who’d graduated a few years ago that Cuba still hooked up with periodically when she was home from college. Marissa somebody.

“He’s different,” I said. “Sometimes people will surprise you.”

But I got antsy. I kept glancing over at Cuba, but he hadn’t noticed me yet. He was in the lunch line with Emma and April, each of them giggling at something he’d said.

Okay, okay, nothing to get riled up about. He just hadn’t seen me yet, that’s all.

Spider watched along with me. “He’s a dog,” he warned me, his face tight with worry.

“Takes one to know one,” I poked.

“I’m not the one trying to get in your knickers. He is.”

“He had his chance and didn’t take it.”

Silence. And more silence. His face reddened, and he gathered up his lunch hurriedly, slamming his books into his backpack.

“Oh, come on, don’t be mad. You’re overreacting. I’ve watched you fall on your face plenty of times with girls. Why can’t I talk to you about what’s going on with me?”

“You’re one of the smartest girls I know, yet he’s leading you on. Bloody ridiculous.”He shook his head at me like I was a lost cause and stalked out of the cafeteria.

Cuba sat down then, a soft smile on his face, and I forgot about Spider—and the doubts he’d planted.

Later, in the middle of pulling on my legwarmers after dance, tingles skipped up my spine. Someone was watching me. I walked over to the large window that took up most of the room on the west side of the building. There he stood, leaning against a tree, feigning nonchalance.

He pointedly looked at his watch and raised his shoulder at me, asking how much longer. I grinned widely and held up my hand for five minutes. Once out of his sight, I rushed around the room like a mad woman, trying to finish dressing and get out to him. I pulled on a jacket and jerked my hair out of its bun.

Then I burst out the door, straight into his warm arms.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, making me blush. “I can’t wait to see you dance Swan Lake someday.”

“Someday,” I repeated, feeling a sense of foreboding.

“What?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Nothing really. It’s just I never say that word anymore. Someday. It’s too vague, and I’m afraid whatever I’m referring to will never come true.”

He gave me a quizzical look, not getting it.

How could he? Didn’t he have everything he wanted?

He tugged on me. “Come on, I want to show you something.”

“What?”

“Something special.”

We walked across the quad, and he stopped at the athletic center to grab some towels. Hmmm, someone had plans.

We left there, and he led me to the barn, an older building used to house the horses for BA’s equestrian department. I’d never ventured out this far from the quad, but I knew other students had. Stories of sex in-between classes and drinking were well documented about the place. Who knows if it was true or not, but he seemed he know his way around. Yeah.

He found an unlocked side door, and we made our way inside the deserted building, passing the horses in their stalls. Once we’d climbed the steps to one of the lofts, he pulled out a flashlight, and I gazed around, seeing the names of lovers scribbled on the wall. Some had been carved into the wood, but others had been written with markers. I was surprised BA hadn’t painted over it yet, but well, this building was nearly off campus.

He produced a sharpie from his pocket.

“You want this?” he asked, giving me a teasing smile.

I had to smile. “And you just happened to have a sharpie?”

His eyes lowered, lingering over my breasts, my legs. “You’re mine. Is it stupid that I want everyone else to know it?”

“No.” But I didn’t take the pen, and it felt like a test I was failing. Why didn’t he write our names on that wall?