Read Headstrong Online

Authors: Meg Maguire

Headstrong (33 page)

She laughed.

“So, I won’t kiss you, Libby. I’ve decided to be happy with what I’ve got.”

She toyed with a fray on the cuff of her jacket. “Why do I only like guys who are destined to break my heart?”

“Well, there’s only been two, right? Two for two may be a hundred percent now, but how many guys could you have done the same to? A billion? You’re good for not leading men on, really. You’re better than they are. Reece and whoever the first bastard was, I mean.”

“And here I thought I was such a brilliant cock-tease.”

“Only to a point. I’m one of those billion idiots doomed to fall for you, but you…you don’t make any promises.”

A bolt of sudden, clear emotion hit Libby like a nail driving into her heart. She stopped and buried her face in one hand, wrapping her other arm around her middle and succumbing to a body-racking sob.

Colin rubbed a warm hand between her shoulder blades. “Hey, you okay?”

“No,” she said in a small voice.

“Will you
be
okay?”

“Yeah,” she admitted. “Probably.”

He steered her to sit on a concrete planter that ran along the sidewalk. “What’s up?”

Libby wiped her sleeve under her dripping nose. “I’ve never been with a man who loved me,” she choked, in a voice she didn’t recognize as her own. Contemptuously vulnerable.

“Reece
cares
about you, in his way. He respects you.”

“I guess. I know he didn’t
use
me. He let me use him, actually… But it was still just a favor.” She sniffed loudly. “Is there really such a thing as making love? As opposed to just
doing it
or
fucking
or
getting off
?”

“Sure there is.”

“Honestly?” she asked.

“Sure. I’ve done it.”

“Is it better than regular sex?”

“Oh,
fuck
yes.”

Libby smiled at Colin’s certainty. “How so?”

“Well, the mechanics are the same, but I don’t know.” He shrugged. “It’s the best. You’re with someone, and you can look at them or touch them or smell them, and you just can’t believe your luck, that they’re with you. But it’s still just as filthy, luckily.”

“How long do you have to know somebody before you’re doing that, instead of just having sex?”

“Hmm… I don’t know. As long as it takes to fall in love, I guess. Minutes? Years? You’ve got me stumped, there. But you know, you don’t have to be in love with somebody for the sex to be like that. Even if you’ve known them for one evening and you aren’t even sure what their last name is, that doesn’t mean you can’t have really thoughtful, wonderful sex. You just have to have the decency and heart to treat them well… But yeah, it feels different when you’re really,
properly
mad about somebody.”

“I follow.”

Colin glanced sideways at her, his cocked eyebrow illuminated by the streetlight. “Do you love Reece?”

She thought about it a moment. “No. I don’t think so. Not
love
. Infatuation, maybe. He never let me get close enough to love him, I don’t think.”

“Well, good on him.”

“Yeah. He was really straightforward about everything we…we did. And I wanted it really badly. Because I’ve been missing out all this time, and he’s the first person I thought I could feel safe with. And maybe, like you said, because I knew it would never go anywhere. I mean, it’s not like I can even stay in New Zealand much longer.”

Colin nodded then laughed again. “God, I can’t get over it.”

“What, my virtual virginity?”

“Yeah. Sorry I keep dwelling, but man… Shit, now I feel really pervy.”

Libby scowled and stood, starting to walk again. “You men. Why does sex have to be such a big deal, anyway?”

Colin grabbed his handlebars and followed. “Well, because sex is awesome. And we’re hardwired that way.”

She groaned. “That old excuse.”

“I won’t get myself into a debate about sexual programming with a biochemist, but cut us
some
slack. We don’t think about sex all the time just to be pigs.”

“Well, you should all just keep it to yourselves.”

“Some of us do,” Colin said quietly, sounding defensive. “Sorry about the ones who don’t. Do I make you feel uncomfortable, like that?”

“No,” she decided. “Not like I feel harassed or anything.”

“Good.”

“But you are intimidating, that way. It’s not your fault,” she added. “You’re sort of naturally…sexual.”

“I would have said the same thing about you a couple days ago, before I knew better.”

“Weird. I’m so the opposite. I’m like the frigidity poster child.”

“Nah, you’re not. You can’t be, not if you’ve been tricking my brother into corrupting you. You’re obviously interested in it. You got burned pretty bad…it’s natural that you’re like this, now.”

“So, you…you think about me that way?”

“Can I be honest without getting my head bitten off?” he asked.

“Yeah, probably.”

“Of course I do. All the goddamn time.”

Libby smiled and sighed, rolling her eyes.

“Well, I didn’t know you were as…inexperienced as you are. Or this sensitive about it. But I fancied you. Of course I thought about you. I don’t reckon there’s anything wrong with that.”

“But you knew I liked your brother.”

“Yeah, and that sucked, let me tell you. But I’m a sexual person, for crying out loud. And you’re the person I happened to most want to have sex with, whether it was a pipe dream or not. So, take that,” Colin said, and nudged her with his shoulder. “I thought all sorts of filthy things about you. But I don’t spend every moment we’re hanging out daydreaming about nailing you. I am actually a good person, you know.”

“No, I do know. You’re a really,
really
good person. Sorry. But I hate that a little, you know? I feel so sized up all the time.”

“Well, you’re bloody good-looking.”

“It’s not like I dress like a hooker.”

“No, but you give off a certain vibe.”

“So do you,” she said.

“Maybe. And I don’t dress like a rent-boy either, but I get offers. It’s nice. It’s flattering. I don’t get off on it but it feels good, sometimes.”

“It’s different when you’re a girl,” Libby said irritably.

Colin nodded. “I’ll bet. But come on, you told me yesterday you’re like that on purpose, to manipulate blokes. Why does it bother you this badly if you claim to be getting so much out of it?”

“God, I don’t know. I’m sorry… I know I’m not making any sense. It’s just different now, because of Reece. It’s like I can have any guy except the one I want. It’s so frigging frustrating. I want to scream.”

“Yeah. Sorry I have no idea what
that
feels like,” Colin said dryly. “And may I point out
yet again
, you’re after the one you knew from the get-go isn’t into you. It can’t be all that shocking.”

“I know.”

“So, you fancy someone who doesn’t fancy you back. Congratulations, you’re a human being. Welcome to our miserable little club.”

Libby looked back toward the lights of downtown Wellington, their glow having grown distant during the walk. She looked up the streetlight-bathed road that ran in front of them along the shore. She looked to her right, into Colin’s wide-open face. A face that had never failed to look at her that way, since the first night they met.

He stared back, amused. “Yeah?”

“Are you in love with me, Colin?”

He considered it for a split second. “I’m in love
toward
you, I guess. I love you as much as one person can, without actually being involved with the other. So, yeah. I love you.”

“Why?”

He did a little double take. “Why
wouldn’t
I?”

Libby felt a fresh pain in her chest. Not the lonely sort she’d felt a few minutes earlier. Different. A stab of sweet, fearless sincerity penetrating her heart. She rubbed a befuddled hand over her sternum and looked away.

“You’re crying again, Libs.”

“Yeah. I’ve been doing that lately. You know when the last time I cried was? Before I met you and Reece?”

“When?”

“When my grandma died, five years ago. And before that, when I was sixteen.”

“Well, it’s a great skill to have. Really cleans you out.”

Libby smiled through her tears. “I hate being this transparent.”

“That’s the one thing you and Reece have in common.”

She nodded.

“He’s safely stuck behind the bar until one, you know, if you want to watch a shitty movie or something. And I’ll bet you’ve had enough of frigid men for one evening.”

“And I always want to watch a shitty movie.”

Colin grinned. “That’s just one of the many reasons I love you.”

Chapter Eighteen

Reece stopped sorting bills in the register as the door swung shut behind his brother and Libby. Colin leaned his bike against the wall and rubbed his bare arms.

“Where’s your coat?” Reece asked.

“Left it at the restaurant. Casualty of war.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Reece said, stomach turning. “How did you get on?”

Libby flapped her hands to express her hopelessness.

“Don’t ask,” Colin added as confirmation.

“Oh God. That bad?”

Colin sighed. “I’ll say this—good luck tomorrow, convincing that jerk-off that Libby’s not wrapped up with ne’er-do-wells.”

“Shit. What did you do?”

“I sort of told him off.”

Reece groaned. “Col…”

“But I didn’t hit him or threaten him or anything.”

“You got lippy, though?” Reece asked.

“Yeah, you could say that.”

He ran his hands through his hair. “Brilliant. I told you this could only lead to trouble.”

Colin shrugged, defeated. “I’ve got no regrets.”

“Brilliant,” Reece repeated.

“I do what I can,” Colin added, a mixture of sarcasm and apology in his voice. “But trust me, he had it coming. Anyway, we’re going up. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Ta,” Reece said, skeptical. “Night, Libby.”

She raised her eyebrows as though tossing her arms up in surrender.

 

Libby leaned against the counter as Colin unwrapped a packet of popcorn. The television was murmuring in the next room, and she’d changed into pajama bottoms. Everything about the moment was so familiar, so easy. After such a disastrous evening, Libby just wanted to wrap this moment around her body like a blanket and fall asleep. She wasn’t sleepy, though. Her body was wide awake, humming with the chemicals left over from the catastrophe at the restaurant.

Colin opened the microwave and looked to her, his eyes sad and tired, but warm as always. “Doing all right?”

Libby nodded, studying him. That face with its unhidden emotions, flung wide open like a window. She saw what felt like a lifetime’s worth of memories in that face…the man who sang with her, who embarrassed himself so freely for her. Who risked his neck for her without a thought, who offered everything and asked for nothing. Her heart began to pound and she rubbed the skin above it.

“Hey, Tiger?”

Colin hit the Start button and turned to her, crossing his arms. “Yeah, Bigfoot?”

“You said before that you wouldn’t kiss me.”

He paused. “Yeah, I did.”

“Is there any way I can talk you out of it?”

“Maybe,” he said, looking sheepish. “Probably. Why?”

“I’d like to know what it’s like. To be kissed by someone who feels for me the way you do.”

“I thought that scared you. I thought
I
scare you, that way.”

“You do. But the alternative was an unprecedented disaster.”

He took a deep breath. “If I kiss you, it’ll hurt like hell for me afterward.”

Her shoulders slumped. “You’re right… It’s selfish. Like my asking you to come to dinner tonight.” Libby turned away, picking up her wine glass and taking a sip. She laughed, though tempted to cry. “I keep hurting you, and I don’t mean to… I don’t understand why you even put up with me. I give you nothing but grief.”

Colin nodded, thumbs hooked into his pockets. He looked lost in thought for a minute, then stepped close. He took the glass from Libby and set it down. A flash of alarm traced her spine as his hands slid up her arms, taking hold of her shoulders.

“You don’t have to,” she said, eyes snapping to his mouth as it inched closer.

Colin ran his tongue across his lower lip. “Yeah, I do.” He leaned close, pressing his lips against her temple. “Telling you no is something I’ll never be any good at.”

She shivered. One of his hands moved, cradling the back of her neck, his palm burning hot against her skin.

“So you better tell me to stop, now,” he whispered.

She opened her mouth but the word didn’t make it past her throat. His lips slid to her ear, and the deep sounds of his breathing redoubled that old fear.

“Tell me,” he murmured.

The microwave dinged and Libby jumped. Colin’s body pressed into hers, and his teeth grazed her neck. The fear surged then evaporated, replaced by excitement.

“Tell me.” He nipped at her skin. “Say it.”

She felt her body tighten, curious. She let her fingers find his waist and twine themselves around his belt.

“Tell me to stop or so help me, I’ll kiss you,” he breathed. His lips took her earlobe, hands holding her tighter.

“I won’t say it.”

He brought his face to hers. “No?”

She shook her head. Something flashed in Colin’s eyes, and his hands settled on her jaw. His mouth was so close she could feel his exhalations warming her lips.

“Colin,” she said, and he took her.

This kiss was deep and aggressive and unapologetic, the opposite of cautious. Reckless. He held her head and his tongue slid against hers, bringing that blush she thought she’d forfeited, bringing it hard and fast. This was no lesson. This was need and demand and worship all at once.

She kissed back. She tasted his mouth and caught his lips with her teeth, angled her head and invited him deeper. When he moaned, her legs trembled. She reached a hand back to grip the island for support. Colin pulled away, releasing her lower lip with a tiny snap. He dropped his hands to his hips and stared into her eyes.

Libby swallowed. “Whoa.”

Colin licked his lips, and his gaze darted to her wine glass. “That’s the closest I’ve come to taking a drink in years.”

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