Oh! Ben ge
ts caught cheating on Arianna with Katerinka! Someone takes a video of Katerinka on her knees in front of Ben at a party—and it totally goes viral. So Arianna goes batshit, attacking Ben and giving him a black eye, and a pronounced limp in his walk. He’s so proud of his injuries! But then she quite publically sleeps with Bobo for revenge (in his car while parked on school grounds!), and everything blows up. Ben goes after Bobo at school, but then Bobo pulls a knife on him! He gets taken down by security before anyone can get hurt, and last I heard they’re looking at him as a suspect for the fires. Ben wants a copy of the video showing the attack so he can upload it online, and schemes to hack into Leclare’s surveillance system. Something’s just not right with that boy. I am definitely keeping in touch with him after we graduate.
“So, Juliet. What are your plans for Valentine’s day?”
The piece of bread I’m munching on nearly falls out of my mouth at Kara’s question. She’s looking at me expectantly, ice blue eyes wide and friendly.
She’s still being eerily nice to me, and it just gets creepier the more she does it. Yesterday, she offered let me borrow her new Louis Vuitton bag. I refrain from telling her that I’d rather punch myself in the throat before I willingly accept anything from her.
“Um…” I swallow the bread, nearly choking on it. “N-nothing, I guess.”
“I don’t buy that,” Kara replies, with a sly glance at Dean, who is sitting across the table from me, determinedly eating his lunch, and shutting everyone else out.
My heart sinks. She knows. Of course she does. That sly bitch.
What’s she gonna do with that information, I wonder. My gaze meets Dean’s, and he lifts an eyebrow at the worry I know he can read on my face. I give an almost imperceptible shrug. I’m not going to waste more time stressing about it. She did, however, bring up a good point. Valentine’s Day is on Thursday. I’ve got something for him, but I don’t know if he’ll like it. Maybe I should get a backup present as well? Boxers with hearts and lips printed all over them? One of those stuffed animals that dances and plays silly songs? I can just imagine the look on his face if I tried to give him those cheesy gifts. I’m totally gonna do it. I’m going to buy him the biggest cheesiest stuffed animal I can find, and the most obnoxious pair of boxers—something that will make him smile. He doesn’t do it nearly enough, and I’ve been making it my mission in life to see one on his face more often.
“Touch it.”
“No.”
“Come on…give it a squeeze. You know you want to.”
A reluctant smile plays about Dean’s mouth. But he shakes his head. “No, thanks.”
“Fine, I’ll do it.”
I squeeze the
orangutan’s hand, and dissonant music and whirring noises accompany its gyrating hips. He’s bananas for love. I crack up at the look on Dean’s face. Then I squeeze the monkey’s hand again to turn it off because even I can’t deal with the extreme cheese factor. I reach over my bed to grab the Valentine’s Day boxers from the glittery red gift bag I had presented him with that night. I hold it up in front of him, waving it around.
“Are you gonna wear these tonight?” I ask, moving my eyebrows up and down suggestively.
He grabs them from me and holds it out, his brow furrowing. “Are those lipstick prints?”
I pout my lips at him. “My favorite shade.”
Dean’s eyes widen. “Yours?”
I nod, enjoying the way his eyes suddenly flare as they drop down to my mouth. I’m suddenly very glad I decided to buy the plain white boxers and decorate it myself.
Maybe my lip prints right over the fly of the boxers is a little too suggestive, but then again, it
is
Valentine’s Day.
My hand goes to my neck, and I
touch the glittering gold necklace engraved with a complex Celtic design. The gold is so delicate, it looks like it’s dripping down my cleavage. I absolutely love it.
“I can’t b
elieve you remembered about this necklace,” I say, tracing the patterns with my fingers. “I brought it up weeks ago.”
Dean lifts his head, his gaze meeting mine. “I remember
everything you say.”
My breath quickens as my insides turn to melting caramel. It’s scary how
easily this boy can become my whole world. I have to be careful to not let that happen, because if I lost him…I don’t know what I’d do.
I launch myself at Dean, surprising him. H
e catches me instinctively, gripping me under my thighs. When my mouth latches onto his, he stumbles back a step and whirls me around. The back of me thumps into a wall. I wrap my arms around his neck, and wiggle just enough so that our bodies are perfectly aligned. Dean curses under his breath, now supporting me with only one arm, the other hand running up my skirt. I gasp into his mouth. God, he makes me wanna…
He always has such iron control. I want to make him lose it. I run my fingers through his soft dark hair, and fit a hand between us so I can
glide my hand down his chest, past his ripped abs, down to the bulging fly of his jeans. I touch him through his clothes, and he groans. I’m giddy with power.
For that lovely space in time we communicate with urgent strokes
and breathless moans. This time is different—more intense…and so, so right.
“You’re killing me,” Dean growls
in my ear, his breathing still uneven. “So much for my good intentions.”
“They’re overrated, anyway
.” I slide down his body. My legs feel like jelly, so I have to lean against the wall for support. I laugh breathlessly.
“Shower?” He arches an eyebrow at me. “Together or separate?”
“Separate,” I say with a smile. “You can barely fit in there by yourself, let alone with me. I always hear you swearing when you bang an elbow into the shower door.”
Dean grimaces
. “Your shower head is set too low.”
“Your head is set
too high.” I make a face at him when he just looks at me. “Take a quick one. I have something else to give you.”
He smirks at me. “You’ve already given me plenty.”
“Pervert.” I smack his bare chest. “Hurry.”
He grabs some clothes, and heads out. I decide to clean up in my mom’
s bathroom to save time. The woman is never home—I don’t even bother to lock my door anymore. It’s not like I want her to catch us doing anything, or something sick like that. It’s just that she doesn’t care, so why should I?
Dean beats me back to the room. He’s sitting on my bed, working on
his laptop, and flicking his Zippo. Probably doing his project for his drafting class. He looks up when I come in, and his gaze is heated. I react immediately, my system flooding with endorphins at the sight of him. God, this is embarrassing.
Mentally shaking the lust from my thoughts, I go over to my desk to grab Dean’s present from the drawer. Clutching the black velvet pouch tightly, I plop down on the bed in front of him.
“You don’t have to like it,” I blurt out nervously. “I don’t know if this is your kind of thing, but I thought it was neat.”
Dean puts his laptop
and lighter aside when I thrust the pouch at him. I watch anxiously as he loosens the drawstrings then shakes out the contents of the pouch onto his outstretched palm. He hooks a finger under the black cord necklace and examines the smooth black stone hanging from it. Etched in gold is a symbol—it looks like an upside down dagger bracketed by two thick commas—and as the necklace sways from his finger, the gold turns molten when the light hits it.
“This is great
,” he says finally. “What that symbol mean, do you know?”
I exhale in relief. He
seems
to like it. “Well, there’s a whole story behind it. I got it at a cool little shop in Hidden Cove. The owner guy makes these really awesome necklaces, and this one caught my eye. He told me all about the legend behind the symbol.”
“
There was this young couple—Arayna and Bob—who were desperately in love, but contact between the two was strictly forbidden because she was the daughter of a high priest and he was one of a long line of poor fisherman. So Arayna would sneak out every morning to tryst with Bob before he went off on his fishing boat. Every night, she would go up to the highest mountain and arrange her fire stones with their symbol—endurance through fire—so he would know she was waiting for him.”
“One day, a massive storm rolled in, destroying everything in its path, and tossing boats about like they were toys. Arayna’s only thought was of Bob, and she immediate
ly ran to the mountain to light her fire stones. She waited all day, and all night, but Bob didn’t return. She knew in her heart that he was out there, lost and searching for home. But the wake of the storm had the entire island shrouded in low-lying clouds, making it impossible for Bob to find his way back to her.”
“Arayna knew there was only one hope. She went to her father, the high priest, and confessed her love for the poor fisherman.
He was outraged, of course, and threatened her with disownment and social destruction. But she didn’t care. She’s like, ‘If I can’t be with Bob in this life, I’ll throw myself into the sea so we can be together in the next one!’ And her dad’s like, ‘Okay, fine.’ So he called a town meeting, where Arayna basically spilled her guts in front of everyone. She got down on her knees, and begged for their help to save Bob’s life. The entire village was swayed by her obvious love for him, and so they agreed to help.”
“Everyone
gathered up all their fire stones. They took them to the highest mountain, and arranged them in this symbol—big enough so that it lit up almost the entire side of the mountain. If Bob was out there, there would be no way he could miss it.”
“Arayna kept vigil on the mountain.
She waited for a week before he finally came back to her—half-drowned and starving—but alive, just like Arayna knew he was. Bob told her the only thing that kept him going was seeing their symbol, bigger than life on their mountain. He realized what she must have done, what she sacrificed for him, and immediately proposed to her…”
I trail off, watching Dean’s reaction. He’d been listening intently the whole time, his head cocked to the side, considering. When I stop, he smiles wryly. “And they lived happily ever after?”
“Well, no. Bob died a week later of spinal meningitis. But, not before he gave her a baby—a son.” I held up a finger. “When the son grew up, they started a very successful fishing business together. And they made their official logo this.” I point to the stone.
Dean chuckles. He lifts the necklace up, and places it over his head.
And just like that, it becomes elegant, sexy, mysterious. It lies against his skin, the gold symbol flashing in the light. I am so turned on seeing him wear it.
Well, damn, at this point, what
doesn’t
turn me on?
“Thank you,” he says, slowly dragging me forward by my hips. “For the necklace, and the story.”
“You’re welcome,” I gasp out when my body comes into contact with his.
I have just enough time to draw in a deep breath before Dean pulls me under with him.
I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of him…
******
Chapter 44
Someone’s pounding
on the front door. Who in the world could it be at…one-fifteen in the morning?
Oh, my god.
All the blood drains from my face. “My mom,” I whisper, springing into a sitting position.
I jump up from the bed
, and tear out of the room. I hear Dean curse behind me, and call my name, but I don’t stop. I half-run, half-fly down the stairs. Something must’ve happened to my mom…what else could it be?
Holding my breath, I throw the
door open, bracing myself for the sight of uniformed officers with grim faces on the other side. Instead, Nick’s standing there, gaping at me. My whole body sighs in relief.
Dean is suddenly there, scowling and moving me behind him. I belatedly realize that I’m just in a tank top and panties. Oops.
“Uh, man, I’m sorry,” Nick stammers, focusing on Dean. “I tried calling both of you, but no one picked up…”
Dean grunts. He tosses something over to me—my robe. I hurriedly put it on. “What’s up?” he
growls to Nick while pulling his shirt over his head.
Thankfully, Nick doesn’t comment on our state of undress. He’s fairly bouncing with excitement.
“Dude, Jason’s in the hospital! Some guys from Larrabee jumped him. Guess he got caught messing around with one of their girlfriends.”
I pop out from behind Dean, my robe
tightly belted. “How bad is it?”
Nick’s face darkens.
“It was five to one, and Jason was drunk. He’s pretty busted up.”
Dean mutters something under his breath, running his hands through his damp hair. Then he turns to me, and his gaze softens.
“Get dressed.”