Honeytrap (4 page)

I shook my head. He liked Rex just about as much as I liked
him
.

“How about that,” he said in a lower voice. “You do still have it bad for that boy.” He cocked one of those long, slanted eyebrows. “Good to know.”

Good to know, my ass. I stood my ground and finished my work. Evie had advised me to take a stand earlier, and it was actually easier to do with this guy than those kids at the dock.

“What's even more interesting,” he said, just like we were still in a conversation, “is that you're the last person in this town I expected to be judgmental, especially with how you handled the breakup.”

I smacked down a napkin set. “Holy crap, what are you? Oprah?”

“I'd like to tell you I have no idea what an Oprah is, but no one escapes her. Not even in a repair shop.”

He was
so
hilarious. “Has it occurred to you that you sound a little judgmental yourself about me?”

“That has occurred.” His drawl was deliberate, and he actually seemed to be turning over the possibility in his mind. But then that charm-ridden smile took over again. “You could be right. I think this town has something pissy in the water that we're all drinking.”

I grabbed the empty container from the table, heading toward the back. I could distribute the rest of the rolled napkins after he left. Who had time for this?

“Nice talking to you, Shelby.”

He said it like this wouldn't be the last time he'd be stopping by. But I wasn't about to invite him back, so I kept on moving.

As I barged through the swinging door and shoved the utensil container on a lower shelf, Mom and Frannie were busy packing Micah's order into the bag he'd brought in, except that Mom was making that headache face again.

I could relate. “Mom, you look terrible.”

She didn't wait for me to ask if she needed aspirin again. “Sweetie, could you do me a favor and run to the store to pick up some Tylenol? I just need enough to get me through service tonight.”

“Will do.” And I seized the opportunity to jam out of there, snatching my keys and purse, going through the back door, climbing into my truck, and zooming toward the market, which was only about five minutes away.

The entire ride I went over what'd gone down with Micah. Who the hell was he to drop those little verbal bombs on me? Was that how he worked girls up, by poking at them and playing the bad, argumentative boy?

Trouble. Didn't need it, didn't want it.

Putting him out of my mind, I parked and ran inside Kroger. Last time I'd been here, during spring break, I'd made my one and only trip out of the house to get groceries. The Rex debacle had just happened, and I'd been successful at avoiding everyone in town until vacation ended.

But they had long memories in Aidan Falls. How long? I'd have to wait and see.

Now, I kept my head down as I headed for the medicines, hoping I wouldn't run into anyone I knew, hoping that by the time I got back to the café, Micah would be gone. I was good at dodging, so chances were that I could do it long enough with
him
so that he'd get over the temptation of pursuing the QB's ex-girlfriend and find someone else to “flirt” with. I suspected that my involvement with Rex had something to do with his minor fixation on me, but that was his issue, not mine.

I rounded the corner, ready to grab some Tylenol and go, then came to an awkward halt.

A girl my age, with curly, long black hair, was stocking shelves. She was thin, but in a way that showed off slender curves, and her skin was what cocoa looked like when you mixed it with milk.

Her hazel eyes widened when she saw me.

Jadyn Dandritch?

Evie was right about her—the laughing, gentle high school classmate who'd decided to go to a community college did look sadder, her complexion dull, her clothes under her market apron wrinkled.

Before I could say anything, she stumbled backward, then turned around, walking fast, picking up speed around the corner before I could say anything.

Running away, just like I'd been doing with everyone, too.

I got home around eleven, after helping Mom clean up the café. She'd stayed even longer with Frannie and the other three women who were currently crashing at our house, and they were talking business while kicking back with their nightly round of wine.

You'd think that a Libertarian like Mom would let her kid—who was studying business in school, by the way—have some vino and biz talk, too, but
nooo
. Mom
could be pretty old school about some things, like underage drinking and being protective of her daughter when it came to guys. So no wine for me.

I headed for my room, which was actually a tiny casita near the pool, which stood empty because it saved money on maintenance. In fact, I wouldn't have been shocked if, one day, I came home to find another one of Mom's gardens filling the big cement hole.

It was small in here, but very private, seeing as I'd moved in after Mom had started inviting women to stay in the main house in exchange for helping her with the café.

I opened the windows and sliding glass door, letting in some barely cooler air while turning on the ceiling fan, then thumped back onto my trundle bed. I spread out my arms against the cherry blossom bedcover that Gramps had bought me when Evie and I had been going through a Japanese manga, anime, and Hello Kitty phase years ago. Meanwhile, the fan circled above me, casting shadows over a room I didn't really belong in anymore—the slow-ass computer on my desk with its ink jet printer, the elliptical machine Mom had stored in here as proof that her junk was claiming my space little by little, my still unpacked suitcase on the floor. The only things that seemed truly welcoming were a few paintings that Evie and I had fooled around with last summer, before college. Total Jackson Pollock time, with house paints from the garage dripped over the canvases.

Life was messy—that's what the pictures seemed to be saying long before I'd actually started experiencing that sentiment post-Rex.

My eyes drifted shut, not because I was trying to block out those paintings, but because it'd been a long day, running into Rex, Jadyn, Micah . . .

His name was the last thing I remembered before I was jarred by Evie's voice.

“Wakey-wakey, Shel!”

I squinted and sat up, discombobulated. As I blinked, I saw Evie, wearing strappy sandals, cut-off jeans, and a T-shirt with dolphins on it, her red hair done up in a spikey bun with chopsticks sticking out. She had on a bunch of leather bracelets, too, and the pierced loop in her bottom lip caught the light. She'd cruised through the open sliding glass doors like it was nothing. Then again, she'd never knocked before, so why start now?

“Next time you just appear like that,” I said, “give me a warning. What if I stabbed you or something because I thought you were a robber?”

“Hah, you still keep that knife under the bed?”

“Yeah.” And I'd been doing it ever since I saw my first Dracula movie on TV when I was a little girl. Bringing a knife to a fang fight sounded fair enough to me. Also, knives trumped all unsuspecting robbers.

“There ain't a criminal on earth who'd brave this sweatbox,” Evie said, flopping into the swiveling chair by my desk. “No air-conditioning again this summer?”

“Can't afford it.” I ran a hand over my hair, which had slumped down from its ponytail, then glanced at my alarm clock. “It's almost eleven-thirty. Shouldn't you be sleeping like an angel, especially if you're starting work in the café tomorrow?” I'd already called Evie about my conversation with Mom this afternoon.

“I wouldn't be paying midnight calls unless I had fun news. Besides, you weren't answering your phone, and your light was on.”

“I guess I was
out
.”

“Clearly. So you want to hear the tidings I bring?”

“I don't know. Do you have more delightful rumors for me?” Welcome back to Aidan Falls, Land of the Wagging Tongue.

“No rumors, just fact.” Evie leaned forward. “So Micah Wyatt picked up his food from your café earlier, right?”

Unfortunately. “Everyone says that's a regular thing. What about it?”

“Well, this time, it seems his pick-up was more than ‘regular.'” Evie drew her news out with an evil smile.

“Evie . . . ?”

She waggled her eyebrows. “Evidently, Micah made a bet.”

I must've still been half-asleep, because this wasn't registering. A bet? Like in poker?

“Shelby,” Evie said, reading my confusion. “He made a bet about
you
. With his cousins. That's why he ventured into the Angel's Seat today, to start off this bet.”

Things were still twirling and whirling in my noggin. “What would he bet on me about?”

“Oh, don't be thick. My cousin Amy said one of her friends overheard Deacon and Darwin talking about it in the backroom when she went to pick up her TV from the shop before they closed today. Since we're family and she knows you're my bestie, she texted me.” Her brown eyes lit up with mischief. “The twins bet Micah that he couldn't nail you before the end of summer.”

The first question I thought of was, “Why does everyone around here have a cousin except me?” The second one got me slowly to my feet as a rush of excitement tumbled through me, traitorous and wrong.

“Is he off his meds or something?” I asked. “Like I'd sleep with him.”

Evie pressed her lips together, and it wasn't because she was holding back a smile. She was measuring me, probably reading the flush that'd suddenly splashed over me like big drips of red paint on a canvas, like one of our messy paintings.

“The thing is,” she said, “he seems to think he has a good shot at you, and he was testing out his chances at the café.”

“Please, he doesn't even want to have sex with
me
-me.” There wasn't much oxygen in my lungs now. “Micah Wyatt made this bet because I'm Rex's ex-girlfriend, and Micah has an inferiority complex about him. I could tell even in the ten minutes he was flapping his gums at me in the café that he'd love to get the best of Rex.”

“If that's true, then I have to wonder about Jadyn Dandritch, too. Maybe she was also part of a bet with him and his cousins, and those rumors about him purposely going after her are real.”

I shook my head. “Deacon and Darwin played football, Evie. They wouldn't make a bet with Micah that would shame Rex.” Or would they?

Weren't they doing that by using
me
as a target? Then again, I wasn't exactly Rex's girlfriend anymore.

“I don't know about that,” Evie said. “The twins were on the Rebels years ago, playing the trench positions. After they graduated, they'd come to the games and yell out “Glamor Boy” at Rex. Maybe now that Rex is riding such a high horse at college, they want to keep their quarterback humble. Maybe they don't even like him all that much since Rex got all the glory and they're . . .”

“Stuck in Aidan Falls.”

Evie's theory was worth considering. But I had another one that'd just blipped into my head, and it sounded downright crazy.

What if Micah, the new womanizer in town, was playing his
own
games, and they'd started with Jadyn? What if he'd already gotten bored with Aidan Falls before he'd seduced her and decided to see if Jadyn was as faithful as her reputation said?

What kind of punk did that?

Evie looked like an imp, hugging her knees to herself now. “Let's pretend for a second that Micah isn't the one who's betting on nailing you. I think the whole idea itself is super hot, Shel. You—the object of pursuit for a guy who wants you real bad.”

“This, coming from an asexual.”

“Hey, I can appreciate the aesthetic value of a man or woman or the games they play. That's what artists do. And I can have emotionally fulfilling relationships if I ever get around to it. My psych class said that I just don't crave sex like all the other horny dogs out there.” She shifted in her chair, loving all this action. “Anyway, you can't tell me you're not a teensy bit flattered.”

Maybe I was, but admitting it was sheer hell. So I didn't. I only sat back down on the bed, my heart going a mile a minute. “Even if I was interested in Micah Wyatt, I wouldn't go there. Who wants to be a number in a whole galaxy of numbers?”

“True.”

“And even if I were interested—which I'm not—I've already gone through the whole having-sex-before-I-was-ready drill.” I shook my head. “I promised myself after Rex that I'd think things through the next time. I need to really examine all the emotions that attack you when you're into someone—you know, the emotions that made me believe I was ready to handle being with a guy.”

“Screwing's a big decision.”

Screwing. It sounded so mechanical, which was pretty much the case when it'd come to Rex. We'd dated a little less than six months, but sex had happened long before then. Rex had a way of talking me into things, like going out with him in the first place, then meeting his parents during winter break, only a couple months after we'd said our first real hello. With Rex, life had occurred in triple time, and it was only after we'd broken up that I'd realized why that was: he was always afraid of losing something, whether it was a football game or a person. With me, he'd tried to speed up our play clock, getting to his goal before I could realize I didn't actually love him.

I had loved him, though, at least in an immature, desperate, first-real-boyfriend way. Then everything had imploded.

Evie rested her chin on her knees, still wrapping her arms around her legs. “It sucks that you slept with Rex before you were ready and that it's going to affect how you respond to other guys.”

“There're a lot of reasons not to sleep with this Micah guy besides that.” I shrugged, closing out the discussion. “I just thought Rex was going to lose interest in me if I didn't give him what he wanted.”

What I didn't add was that the entire experience had been painful, uncomfortable. Let's just say there was a lot to Rex, and I hadn't exactly been begging for more after that first time. Or the second . . . and so on. Some friends back at school had told me that sex wouldn't always be like that with other people, and I wanted to believe them. But I wasn't all that enthused about test-driving more guys.

So why was my belly pulling with strange need after this bet revelation? Why did it feel like something had been tied into a knot that throbbed and wouldn't let up?

Evie smiled. “I'm simpatico, Shel. The last thing you want is to be a boy-pleaser. And you want to keep a low profile away from the cheerdevils and Rex's friends, but Micah's putting you in high-profile territory. But does that necessarily mean you're going to be a massive blob in every other way this summer?”

She made me sound like no fun at all. Blobs sat on palettes like the ones Evie used for her paints. Blobs quivered and bled color and had no lives.

And even a few days into the summer, I was headed in such a blobby direction.

Evie spun around in the desk chair, then eased to her feet. “We're on
vacation
, here, my friend. No more pencils, no more books, no more teachers' dirty looks. So even if you want to avoid the Rexes and Micahs of the world, you can't hole up in this room or the café for the next couple of months. Am I right?”

God, I'd missed her. And she
was
right—I shouldn't care about the bummers of the world. So I smiled, nodding.

“Yes!” She clapped her hands together. “Then, listen—there's this party out at Jimmy Holland's ranch. His dad is at some agricultural business conference and his mom went to visit a sick aunt, so they left him alone. He's got a keg, and things should be in full swing right now . . .” She looked at my sudden frown. “What? Too soon?”

“Won't the others be there?”

“No. Lindsey Windsor is having a birthday pool party tonight, and all the cheerdevils and Rex and his boys will be over there. Jimmy's will be a devil-free zone.”

I couldn't imagine that Micah would be present, either. He probably had better things to do than hang with Jimmy Holland, who'd been in my grade. Plus, there were a lot of women in town the player hadn't
oo-lah-lah
ed yet, and the night was still young.

But since Jimmy's ranch was on the 'neck side of town, odds were that Lindsey Windsor's party would be keeping all the upper-class asshats busy, too.

“I'll even be the DD,” Evie said, sweetening the pot. “Don't be a blob, Shel.”

Who was a blob?

My body had forgotten it was tired. “I'll drive. You deserve a drink after putting all that energy into such effective speechifying.”

“Thanks for appreciating my efforts.”

I spruced up, then changed from my Angel's Seat T-shirt into a red-and-white blouse that tied up high, baring my midriff. Evie waited by the empty pool while I shut the sliding door behind me. I led her through the side yard and was just texting Mom so she wouldn't freak out about my location change when Evie brought up Micah again.

“You know what the best way ever is to make Rex grind his teeth, though?”

I put away my phone, then opened my pickup's door. “I'm not having sex with Micah Wyatt.”

“Got it.”

As we climbed in, I was thankful my cab light was broken, because if she saw how much I was flushing now, she'd never let me forget it.

***

Parties definitely didn't get 'neckier than this.

A full moon washed over a wide field as we pulled off the dirt lane that stretched from the main road to the Hollands' one-story ranch house. A bonfire burned nearby, and there was a keg in the flatbed of Jimmy's red GM truck, where a circle of guys gathered.

That's not where the rest of the crowd was, though.

As Evie and I walked from my parked pickup toward the Blake Shelton music that was coming from Jimmy's truck, we hesitated at a strange sight across the field: a black Impala that resembled a stock car had some dinglehead sitting on top of the roof, his legs spread and his boots hooked into the opened windows like he was in a saddle.