Dust (8 page)

"You can play with mine any time," I said suggestively.

What the fuck?

The words were out of my mouth before I had time to filter them. Her head snapped up and she gasped, catching the meaning behind them. Yeah, as if I'd left any room for doubt. I hadn't really meant to say that, but now I wasn't sure how to fix it.

As I stared at her, quickly grappling for an easy subject change, her breath sped up, pushing her breasts against the brown tee she had on. Her nipples were hard peaks, and my dick twitched as I took in the sight of her. Yeah, she'd been beautiful before. Seeing her aroused was breathtaking.

Holy
shit.
I needed that subject change right now. "That looks good. There, I mean. The circle." Fuck! Now I sounded like a horny virgin who didn't know how to talk to girls. I took a deep breath and shut my eyes. I pointed to her paper when I could focus again. "Bring the line in a little toward the bottom."

She blinked at me and then quickly turned to face the sketchpad. "Like this?" she asked, her voice pitched higher than before. She cleared her throat and waited.

"Yeah," I finally said. "Go a little more though."

She did and then looked at me. "Is that what you mean?"

"Not exactly."
Get your shit together, man
! I stepped over to her and stood behind her. "You're holding the pencil wrong. I'm going to reposition it and then hold your hand while I draw a few strokes. I want you to feel what I'm doing."

She looked at me over her shoulder and nodded. I reached for her hand then and pulled the pencil out a little. "This will give you more control."

"Okay." I watched the side of her throat move as she swallowed. I was also close enough to smell her fruit-scented shampoo. Thoughts of her being good enough to eat had blood rushing to other parts of my body, but I ignored my physical reaction to her.

"Relax your hand a little. We're going to draw some of the other outlines." After she complied, I pressed the tip of the pencil against the paper and began to draw.

"Oh," she said slowly. I removed my hand from hers and stepped back as she continued to draw using the same easy motions I'd just shown her.

"Good job."

She paused and briefly smiled over her shoulder at me before continuing with her drawing. "Is that the same painting you were working on before?" she asked and tilted her head toward my workstation without taking her eyes off her drawing. I took another calming breath as I felt my body relaxing. Art I could talk about. Get my mind and my dick off other topics.

"Yes. It's part of my graduation portfolio. Mrs. Sutherland is on my advisement committee."

"But I thought your major was graphic design."

"My major is art. Graphic design will pay the bills."

"Ah. I see." She stopped and looked at me. "I think I've caught up to you now." She glanced at both of our sketches. I looked closely at hers.

"You're a natural." I smiled at her and she rolled her eyes.

She put my pencil down next to her paper and looked at me. "So what are you painting?"

"Death."

She frowned, but it wasn't a look of disappointment or even judgment. It was contemplative. "Can I see it?"

I never let anybody see my work before it was finished. I opened my mouth to tell her this, but what came out was, "Sure."

She stepped over to the other side of my easel and picked it up from where I'd propped it on the floor. She put it up onto the stand, covering my partial rendering of the bowl of fruit.

I was frozen in place as she studied it, wondering what she'd think of it. Normally I didn't care what other people thought of my work. Either they liked it or they didn't.

But I was damn near coming out of my skin with anticipation, waiting for her opinion. For whatever reason, it mattered.

"I like it." She smiled at me, and the air left my lungs in a whoosh.

I knew I was grinning like a fool, but I couldn't help it. "Really? You're not just saying that because I showed you the difference between drawing a pear and drawing an apple, are you?"

She laughed. "Oh please, I knew the difference. I just wanted you to feel special."

I put my hand over my heart and pretended to take a couple of wounded steps backward. "Cut me to the core, why don't you?"

Shaking her head, she said, "Whatever, Mr. Hotshot Artist Man. You're the cat's meow. Better?"

"Only if I can make you purr."

What the hell was wrong with me? I'd been given a free pass from the last innuendo, so I threw another one out for fun? Jesus, maybe I just needed to get laid.

"Does that bullshit actually work on women?" She laughed.

I felt heat rising and it wasn't because I was turned on. I never blushed. Ever.

Until now.

"I don't know. You tell me? On second thought, don't answer that. Just consider it a little harmless flirting, okay?"

Her brow wrinkled. Great. What was she thinking now? Women were too hard to read, which was why I usually didn't try.

"Harmless?" she said slowly, but I wasn't sure if she was asking because she wanted to make sure I understood or because she was offended. She hadn't seemed offended before when we'd talked about not hooking up. Maybe I needed to reiterate my stance on the subject.

Because it had not changed...and would not.

But I didn't want to be harsh. I liked keeping my firecracker playful.

Mine? Oh hell no. I definitely needed to get laid. I'd be making a few phone calls, getting this taken care of tonight. But I still needed to keep things light with Liv. "Yeah, harmless. Remember, no breaching of the panties. I can chant the mantra daily to you, oh righteous one, if you need regular confirmation of my virtue."

She laughed out loud, which made me chuckle. At least I hadn't pissed her off.

One of the students from our class walked into the room, and I looked at my watch. "Class starts in ten. I think you can handle the rest of the still life on your own. If you have problems with it in class, we can get together before class starts next time, and I can see where you're at on it."

Without even pausing, she said, "This is my only class today, and I have several essays to do in my other classes later this week, so you can come over later tonight if you want."

My heart jumped. Because I wanted to.

It was an innocent offer, but being alone with Liv in her dorm room was all kinds of
not happening.

"Can't tonight. Got plans." Her eyes got slightly bigger and I clenched my teeth. She understood what I was saying, and I felt like a jackass. I couldn't leave it like that. Even if I needed to get laid, I didn't want her to think she wasn't more important than a random hookup.

Because she was a friend. That was all. But friends were important.

"Do you get out much, Liv?"

Her jaw worked as she stared. "Um, I guess."

"That's a no." Just as I'd suspected. "Let's go to the bar and hang out on Saturday night."

If her eyes got bigger earlier, they were about to pop out of her head now. "What?" she screeched.

"Oh, I see. Let me see if I can explain. There're these places that used to be called watering holes back in the day. What happens is people congregate at them and imbibe beverages with alcohol content. The trend continues today."

"Okay, smart ass. I know what a bar is, though I'm surprised you know what the word imbibe means. Why do you want to go?"

I stared blankly at her. "Didn't I just explain it? Alcohol. Beer. Darts. Pool. It's called fun, Liv, and you need some in your life. So how about it?"

"Why with me? That's what I meant," she muttered.

I half-smiled at her. "Because we're friends and friends hang out. Oh hey, you can tell Jewel. She can come with. I can pick you both up around ten."

"At night?" she balked.

"You've got a lot to learn about fun, firecracker. Yes, at night. What do you say? And before you answer, know I'm not taking no for one."

She stared at me, glanced down, and then nodded slowly. "Okay, fine. But I'm keeping your fancy-shmancy drawing pencil." She snatched it off her easel and pocketed it before I had a chance to reply.

I chuckled and shoved my hands in my pocket as evidence I wouldn't try to take it from her. If she wanted it, she could have it. I had three more.

But I wasn't telling her that.

N
o way could
I go out looking like this. No. No. No. "No."

"Yes," Jewel said as she pinned my hair to the side. She'd already pulled out the industrial brushes to paint my face. "Oh, this is going to look so good with the streaks in your hair."

Barbie was playing dress-up with the wrong doll. "You are out of your mind if you think I'm gonna go to the bar looking like a high-class hooker." It was my own fault for letting her put me in a barely-there skirt and form-fitting shirt. I drew the line at tacky fishnet stockings, but I should've drawn it a lot sooner.

"Better high class than lot lizard."

"Same difference." I sighed as she scrunched my hair. "I can't do this." It was too dangerous to go out in public looking like this. I was inviting danger. Might as well run around screaming, "Rape me!"

"You can and you will. I already let you talk me into driving us so we could bail early. I agreed. We're going. You can't just stand him up." Yeah, I'd begged her to be a designated driver, not that I planned on getting wasted. It hadn't been my finest moment, but at the time I hadn't been above groveling.

"I told you it's not a date. I'm hanging out with friends, which means I'm entirely overdressed." Or entirely underdressed depending on perspective.

"It's a bar, Liv. Girl code states going out to bars is a free pass to dress like a slut. It's like Halloween without the gore."

"Or Easter Sunday without the chastity?" I said dryly.

She smirked. "However you wanna look at it, girl. Either way, your ass is getting in my car and going out with me. Besides, it'll be good practice for you. The fraternity council organizes an annual party among all the fraternities on campus, and it's at the end of this month. The fundraiser was nothing compared to what that party will be. It's like our own Mardi Gras."

"Ugh, I've seen those signs promoting drunken debauchery. No thanks." That would be way too many irresponsible people together at the same time. The streets between the fraternity houses were even going to be closed, with parties going on inside the houses, too. That was a very good indication I should stay the hell away from that mess.

"We'll worry about that later. Right now, the bar is smaller and easily doable. Plus, I already told Gabe I was going. I'm sure he's going to show up. We. Are. Going," said with a stern look.

I cringed. She and I had talked about him, but she hadn't seen things my way. I couldn't blame her since it wasn't like I could give her specific reasons. I wasn't going to break Kill's trust. The best I could come up with was Kill obviously didn't get along with Gabe, and Kill was my friend. Yeah, that hadn't been enough for her.

"You know Kill doesn't like him."

She arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow. "And? Kill's not my boyfriend. He's yours."

I glared at her. "That's not funny. Don't say crap like that in front of him." The whole
harmless flirting
comment had stayed with me after he'd let those sexual remarks slip. I'd been shocked by what he said, but he hadn't done anything to make me uncomfortable. In fact, if anything I'd been curious. Curiosity was a dangerous thing. It got you in trouble.

It got you killed.

But harmless flirting sounded so...innocent.

"Oh please, Liv. Ever since he got your number after being late that night you two have been texting each other like crazy. You've seen him several times outside of class for
tutoring
sessions. I know you like him."

I wasn't going to admit that to her. Yes, I liked him. He was very attractive, but over the last couple of weeks, we'd gotten to know each other a little, and I liked who he was on the inside more than on the outside. But just because I liked him didn't mean I'd ever get involved with him. He was my friend, and I needed his friendship. Being around him had helped me so much. It was nice to be comfortable around a man for the first time in my life. Besides, "Boyfriends equal sex. I'm not sleeping with him."
I just might engage in a little harmless flirting is all.

"Then you're right. You're not practically dating. You're practically
married
. Couples who date screw like mad. Couples who are hitched don't. Or so I've heard." She shrugged with a smile and stepped away from the mirror, leaving only my whored-up self in the reflection. "Now for the shoes." I turned back and she'd pulled out some red, death-trap looking things.

"Oh hell," I muttered. "I guess my Sperry's are out?"

She stared, obviously realizing my question was unworthy of a verbal answer. "Put these on. Your feet will hurt since you're not used to them, but they are perfect."

My head started shaking. "No. No! No to all of it." I jumped up from the stool of primping torture and faced her. "This is not who I am. I refuse to go out looking like something I'm not."

Jewel’s shoulders slumped. "I'm only trying to help. You're a pretty woman. There's nothing wrong with wearing a little lipstick and fixing your hair."

"But that's not all. The clothes and shoes are too much. I can't do this! I'm gonna call and cancel." I made a beeline for my cell to text Killian, but Jewel lunged and grabbed my arm.

"Hold on! Take a deep breath." Breathing wasn't the problem right now, I was breathing so much I was about to hyperventilate. "Maybe I went a little overboard. Let's think about what you'll need to feel comfortable going out."

I already knew the answer to that...
not going
.

"Work with me here, Liv. We'll find something to accentuate who you are without making you feel like you're pretending to be someone else." She pulled me to her closet and scraped hangers across the rod quickly as she scanned the contents. "How 'bout this?" She pulled out a black skirt that was a few inches longer than the one I had on.

"I-I guess that's better."

She nodded slowly then yanked it off the hanger. She stepped over to my closet, scanned its contents, and pulled out a pair of black riding boots with some chains around the ankle I'd gotten for Christmas one year. I'd only worn them a few times. They were comfortable, but not like tennis shoes. She didn't ask me what I thought about them, just grabbed them and went back to her closet. At least they were better than the shoes she'd pulled out earlier. Next came a sheer, loose white blouse, hot-pink tank, and some silver belts.

"Okay. We've got a longer skirt, hot-pink cami that matches the shade in your hair, shoes without heels, and..." She walked over to her dresser, rummaged around, and pulled out black stockings. "Tights with a rose pattern on them. The belts will jazz it up. Get changed and let's see what we have now."

I grumbled, but as I got dressed, I did feel better. I wasn't on display, which was a vast improvement as far as I was concerned. I turned to Jewel and shrugged, waiting for her thoughts.

She smiled. "I like it. You're covered up but still a sexy version of you. We'll need to change your lip color from red to pink, but then I think you'll be perfect. What do you think?"

I turned to the mirror with a discerning eye. I was still dressed in something beyond my normal comfort level, but at least I didn't look fake. And more importantly, I wasn't uncomfortable. Not as relaxing as jeans and tennis shoes, but reasonably doable for a night out at the bar. "It's better."

"No, Liv. It's perfect. Killian is going to salivate when he sees you."

I glared at her. "You are not going to try to fix me up with him. He is my friend.
Friend
. That's it."

The smile on her face made me nervous all over again. "Oh, I'm not fixing you up with Killian. Tonight is about every other man in that bar
but
him. He gets to watch from the sidelines while guys line up for you. And he's going to hate every second of it."

I shut my eyes as I finally realized her little plan. She wanted to make Killian jealous. Great, he wasn't the only one who was going to hate every second of this night.

* * *

"
Q
uit being a baby
! I let you change your clothes, now get your butt out of that car right this instant," Jewel said, looking down at me as she stood with the passenger door open, waiting for me to comply. It wasn't that I didn't want to. My legs had just forgotten how to move.

"I don't know if I can. Really." This was madness. I thought the fundraiser was a mistake once I'd gotten there. I knew this night was. It wasn't a college social gathering. It was a bar, with alcohol, loud music, and dancing.

She sighed. "Look, we'll do this thirty minutes at a time. Give me thirty minutes to get you into the bar, seated at a booth, and a drink in your hand. We'll worry about the next thirty minutes after that. It'll be easier with a little liquid courage. Can you give me just those initial minutes, please?"

I took a deep breath and nodded before putting my hand on the door and forcing myself to stand. "Sorry. I'm really trying." She had no idea how much. After freaking out about my clothes, I'd given myself a little pep talk. I wanted to come out and see how people my age lived. I knew my life wasn't the norm, but I hid within it. If I wanted to branch out and be comfortable around people, I needed to do this. I'd be finished with college in a year. Then what? I couldn't live at home with my mom forever. I wanted to get a job my sister would've been proud of. I couldn't do that if going out to a bar with people who were safe wasn't even possible for me to accomplish.

"That a girl." She wrapped her arm around mine, nudged the door shut with her hip, and pulled me along with her to the front entrance. I barely registered when she dug in her purse and pulled out some money and our I.D.s. She'd confiscated mine before we left the room. Within minutes I was pushed into a booth, and she sat beside me. I was effectively trapped.

"I need a drink."

"I'm on it."

She started to get up, but I grabbed her. "Make sure you watch them make it and don't lose sight of it. Better yet, just get me a beer and watch him open it."

"A beer isn't going to be strong enough. You gonna be okay while I go get you a drink?"

I shook my head quickly without saying anything. I didn't think I'd be able to flee even if I wanted to. Which I did.

"Okay, okay." She settled back in, clicked on her phone, and then looked at me. "Gabe's not here. He had dinner with his mom tonight, but he's on his way. Let me try Killian." She tapped on it again, smiled without looking at me, and typed something else before setting it down and flashing her gaze my way. "He's here. I told him where we were sitting, and he's on his way over. Take a deep breath and try not to look constipated." I did as she asked—though I did not look constipated—and it helped slightly. She jumped up though, startling me. I jerked my head in her direction. "I see him. I'm going to get your drink. Act natural."

"I thought he was going to—"

She walked off before I could finish.

But that didn't matter once I saw Killian. Oh my god, he was incredibly hot.

Not that I was staring.

Much.

When he saw me, his steps faltered slightly, and his eyes popped. He licked his lips and continued his trek toward me. He stopped by the bench were I was at, but didn't sit. Just stared.

"Wow, firecracker." He must've said it softly because I barely heard him. I saw his lips though. He'd called me that word again—firecracker. I wasn't sure why he'd started that, but I kinda liked it. It was personal without being creepy for me, unlike the term he'd used the first day we met.

"Jewel..." What? I wanted to say she'd done this to me. That sounded too much like an accusation, and the reality was the second version of tonight's outfit wasn't so bad. "Um, she helped me." I waved my hand down and followed along with my gaze. I silently cursed when I saw the few buttons undone at the top of the blouse to show the pink tank underneath...and my cleavage.

He slowly slid into the booth, not taking his eyes off mine. "You look beautiful. I mean you're beautiful anyway, but yeah, you look nice."

"You do too." He had on jeans, but his dress shirt was only tucked in the front with the sleeves rolled up. He definitely had the sexy, relaxed look going on. Oh god, and he was wearing cologne. That was different. He'd never worn it before. He smelled good anyway, but this cologne was like a stake to the heart.

He reached out slowly, his hand going for my hair. Or the side of my neck. I wasn't sure. When I saw Jewel through my peripheral vision walk up to our table, I still refused to take my gaze off him.

"I bring drinks," she said as she slid into the bench across from us. Killian yanked his hand away and turned to face Jewel.

"That was fast," he said as he rubbed his hands on his knees.

She smiled slowly at him. "You don't have to wait when the bartender thinks you're hot." She pushed a bottle toward him. "Here's your beer." Then she slid a short glass in front of me. "And your cocktail."

"What is it?" I asked, picking it up and sniffing.

"It's a daiquiri. It's meant to be swallowed, not sniffed." She cut her gaze to Killian. "I see I'm going to have my work cut out for me if I have to give step-by-step instructions on drinking," she said with a wink and then looked at me with a raised eyebrow. I nodded slowly and lifted the cup to my mouth. It tasted like strawberry punch.