Shattered Grace (Fallen from Grace) (40 page)

Quentin smirked. “What’s the matter, Grace?”

She grimaced. He wasn’t a Guardian. He was the freaking devil. Too frustrated for words, she narrowed her eyes at him, blew an exasperated breath through pursed lips, and hurried out the front door. If she was going to turn all shades of red and sweat in the air-conditioning, she might as well wait outside. It just made a heck of a lot more sense to sweat out there.

For once, Emily was right on time. Grace settled in the passenger seat next to her, uncomfortably eyeing her cast, but thankful to be out of the heat.

Emily gave her a once-over. “Wow, you look great! You didn’t get all dressed up for me, did you?”

“
I couldn’t think of any other way to get you to notice me again.” Grace tried to push out a pout from her bottom lip.

Emily flipped her visor down, applying more lip gloss that suspiciously smelled like cinnamon. “You know you’ll always be my gal.”

“
I know.” Grace flashed her a smile, and then looked from her lips to her cast once more. “What’s wrong?”

“
Well, now I’m feeling totally underdressed. It was bad enough I couldn’t find anything to wear to go with this freaking cast.” Emily’s gaze grazed over Grace’s attire again. “I know it’s not for me, so who is all the hotness for?”

Grace looked down at herself. “You really think so?”

Emily’s head bobbed up and down. “Oh, yeah. Whoever all that’s for…” she said with a quick sweep of her eyes, “…doesn’t even have a chance.”

Satisfied, Grace played with the pendant hanging from her neck. “Good. I have a date later.”

Emily gave Grace a sideways look. “I’m not that stupid. I knew that getup wasn’t for shopping.”

Grace knew as soon as she told Emily who the date was with, she’d hear a big fat “I told you so.” “Darius.”

“
I knew it!” Since one of Emily’s arms was broken, Grace wouldn’t get the finger…which was the only positive to the cast.

Grace continued to play with her necklace. “Knew what?”

“
I knew you were into him. Plus, I heard you two were pretty cozy at the party last night.” Emily waggled her eyebrows.

Grace bit down on her bottom lip, trying to hide a smile. “We were not. We were just like…talking.” With all the people drunk around the fire, how could any of them see past their own nose, let alone see how cozy they were?

“
Whatever, denial’s a river in Egypt.”

Grace tried to keep from laughing out loud. “Thanks for the geography lesson.” Breaking out in a full-out, belly-rumbling laugh, Grace found it almost impossible to speak as the tears trickled from her eyes. “Don’t you mean, ‘Denial ain’t just a river in Egypt’?”

“
Isn’t that what I said?” Emily shot back with a self-deprecating giggle. She sobered, then gave Grace a measuring glance. “So,” she said slyly. “Are you going to give it up for your birthday?”

Grace’s eyes bugged out of her head as she gaped at Emily. Who definitely needed a lobotomy. “What kind of question is that? Of course I’m not giving anything up tonight. Geesh!” Between Emily and Quentin, she’d be turning tricks by Sunday night.

Emily gave her a mischievous wink. “It’s not bad, you should try it sometime.”

Grace’s jaw dropped. “You and Tommy?”

Emily nodded, her smile big and proud.

“
No.” Grace shook her head, trying to wrap her mind around the fact her best friend was no longer a virgin.

“
Yesss.”

“
You two did it. When?” Grace rolled on her hip and turned to Emily.

“
Last weekend. My parents left for the night.”

“
Please tell me you were careful.”

For a split second, Emily tore her gaze from the road, giving Grace a dubious glance. “Of course.”

“
Call me as soon as you get home,” Emily called out, leaning over the passenger seat as she dropped Grace off after their shopping trip.

Grace barely stuck her head in the open passenger window. “I will.” Waving good-bye, she calculated she had just enough time to run upstairs for a touch-up. Once inside the front door, she pulled her shoes off by the heels, dropped them on the floor, and sprinted up to her room. Grace reapplied all of the necessities—deodorant, powder, and lipstick. A couple of squirts of perfume and she was date-ready and waiting downstairs.

Ears perked, Grace stopped pacing in the center of the family room. The rumbling of an engine was coming up the driveway. She breathed in deeply and let it back out, then waited by the front door for a knock, or the ding-dong of the doorbell.

It felt like forever waiting there. Grace leaned against the door, softly tapping her toe. Then a thought occurred to her. What if Quentin was outside reading him the riot act? She was going to kill him. Pressing her body flat against the door, Grace peeked through the peephole. She couldn’t see Quentin, but she saw Darius. His back was to the door and he was rifling through a backpack sitting on the seat of his bike. When his body hinted at turning around, Grace smiled, privately watching him move toward her.

The closer he got to the door, the more her heart beat in double time, making it difficult to breathe normally. Anxious butterflies fluttered so hard in her chest, she thought for sure one or two would burst through.

Slowly counting to ten in her head, she took a cleansing breath that made the butterflies heel, and opened the front door. The sun was sinking on the horizon, the glow from its remaining rays casting an amber-like aura around Darius’ silhouette. The tips of his golden-brown hair blazed. Beautiful
.
Grace sighed mentally. A smile slowly lifted the corners of her mouth.

A smile slowly lifted the corners of his. “Hey.”

Despite her nervousness, she wouldn’t let her gaze fall from his. “Hey.”

At first glance, Grace didn’t realize he held something behind his back. Giddiness made it impossible to resist all efforts at taming her internal butterflies. They were defiantly doing barrel rolls with anticipation. She’d been on dates before, but she’d never received … a Nike bag? The butterflies instantly quit fluttering and dropped like stones to the bottom of her stomach.

“
This is for the shoes I knew you’d be wearing.” His smile turned sly.

Her gaze fell to her feet. She wasn’t sure what she should have worn instead. “Uh—”

“
Boots or tennis shoes will work. Oh, and a light jacket.”

So much for captivating. This outfit with tennis shoes and a light jacket? “Oh, okay. I’ll be right back.”

Darius’ voice carried through the foyer to her as she raced up the stairs. “Put the heels in the bag, I like them.” Okay then. Maybe she could still pull it off.

Thankful for the light brown leather jacket she couldn’t live without last year, Grace grabbed it and a pair of shoes, and met Darius at the front door. Blue suede pumps were tucked inside the bag as instructed. She stood next to him, glancing down at herself. “Better?”

“
For the bike.” When he winked at her, her stare faltered. “Ready?”

“
I think so,” she said, unable to keep the edge from her voice.

“
Ever been on the back of a bike?”

“
What makes you think I haven’t been on the front of one?” Kidding, Grace pulled her features all serious-like.

There was humor in his eyes, but his voice was deadpan. “Have you?”

“
Well, no.”

She was rewarded with another great smile. “What about the back?”

“
Not there either.” Never having sat on any part of a bike before tonight, Grace was a little nervous about getting on the back of one now. The whole concept of a motorcycle-riding guy was exciting, just minus her as a rider.

Darius’ soft chuckle pulled her from her fear-induced daydream. “Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to you.” When he ran his thumb along her jawline, a shiver danced up and down her spine. Automatically, her body leaned into his touch.

It was like an anti-anxiety pill, making her feel slightly better. Thoughts of her safety, however, had her wondering where Quentin was. She hadn’t seen or heard from him since before she left with Emily. With an internal shrug, Grace followed behind Darius to the bike.

Abruptly, she stopped short, standing immobile a couple of feet from the motorcycle. “Whoa. Nice bike.”

“
She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” Watching him gaze adoringly at his silver beast of a motorcycle had her glad his bike was the only thing she’d have to compete with. It could be worse. It could be the redheaded beast, Lux.

Grace looked back to Darius, who was staring at what would appear to be his first love. “She is. What is she?”

“
A 2012 Yamaha V-Max. Here…” He handed her a helmet the same color as the bike. She stared down at the helmet in her hands, wondering how to avoid ruining her hair. The plan she had worked out in her head for tonight wasn’t following her mental script.

“
Don’t worry, your hair will be fine.” He winked. “I promise.”

Carefully trying not to push her pony down, Grace pulled the helmet on her head. Straps hanging, she placed her hands on her hips. “How do I look?”

As Darius took the straps and latched them together, he smiled. “Cute.” Cute wasn’t captivating. Thoughts of cute kittens prancing around ran through her mind. She so wasn’t going for cute. Quietly pouting, she listened as he instructed where to keep her feet.

Darius on the front, Grace on the back, her heart raced as the adrenaline coursed through her veins, picking up even more with every rev of the engine. Hands splayed partly on his chest and on his abdomen, she could feel the taut movement of muscle. Darius grabbed her hands together in one of his, and held them against his chest before turning his head to talk.

“
Hold tight like this.” Using his other hand, he wrapped her arms around his body, pulling her close. The roar of the engine was too loud for him to hear a reply, so she settled into his back and held on even tighter.

The adrenaline rush was unlike anything she had experienced before. No longer worried about the state of her hair, Grace hoped he’d go faster. Uncontrollable giggles and screams bubbled up her throat. Grace could feel the rumble of Darius’ laughter in response.

All too quickly, the ride was over. They ended up in the parking lot of a small Italian restaurant on Orchard Street, just down the road from Latté Da’s. Kicking her leg over the seat, she jumped from the bike. “Oh my gosh
,
that was fun!” With the tips of her fingers, she massaged her sore cheeks in a circular motion. They hurt from smiling so much.

As they entered the restaurant, Grace recognized the host. She was a girl from school. The girl sat them in the back, in a dark corner of the restaurant. Blue orchids sat off to the side of the table, their color flashing between a dark and light shade of blue as the candle’s flame flickered about. Grace excused herself and took the bag with her to the restroom. She folded her leather jacket inside out and carefully stuffed it in the bag on top of her tennis shoes. She checked her hair in the mirror, and was glad it didn’t look much different from when she’d styled it.