Love Story
Page 38
I’m about to tell her to forget it—that I’ll go, when I see movement out of the corner of my eye.
I turn to my right, see that the man staying in Room 9 has come to see his new neighbors, and the dude is…
Creepy as fuck.
Wispy gray hair, faded wife-beater, ugly khakis, and eyes that fall onto the crazy side of weirdo.
Eyes that don’t even see me, because they’re locked onto Lucy.
Oh, hell no.
I’m not sending her back into the storm to get a new key, and I’m sure as hell not leaving her here alone. But both of us going to get a new room seems stupid, especially since no way am I letting her out of my sight with this guy lurking about and her only protection a flimsy door.
She shifts uneasily under the guy’s scrutiny.
Fuck it.
I drop a possessive hand low on her waist, pulling her toward my door, shifting so that I mostly block the guy’s view of her, giving him a fierce Get back in your room look.
He finally seems to register my presence, his expression borderline sulky as he slinks back into his own room.
I see the curtains of the windows move, and glance down at Lucy, smiling when she mouths creeper.
I open the door and we both wince. We’ve stayed in some pretty shitty motel rooms so far, but this one takes the cake.
“At least it doesn’t smell?” Lucy says, as I shut the door and use the dinky chain to lock the door.
I toss both our bags on the bed, wincing when it sags more than it should. Maybe sleeping on the floor will be a blessing.
Then I glance at the carpet, noting the iffy stains.
Or not.
Lucy unzips her bag, plucking at her tank top with two fingers, and I grind my teeth not to notice the way it clings. “How good does a hot shower and dry clothes sound right now?”
Right now I’m a lot more intrigued by Lucy in the shower than I am dry clothes. My mind flashes to the thought of us showering. Together. Me crowding her against the wall, my hands all over her soapy body, my lips on her neck as she tips her head back, moaning with pleasure.
God, I love the way she used to moan.
“I’ll go see about getting us another room,” I say in a low voice.
She spins around. “Oh, don’t leave me. That guy next door…”
“Has the muscle definition of a four-year-old. Flimsy as that lock is, he’s not getting through.”
“Please. Stay.”
I meet her eyes. “I can’t stay here in this room with you, Lucy. Not with one bed. Way too much temptation.”
She cups her elbows with her palms and seems to curl into herself. “Temptation because it’s me, or just because it’s been a while since you’ve gotten laid?”
My temper surges. “I’m not an animal. I don’t run after anything with tits.”
Lucy says nothing, and that pisses me off further, and I take a step closer. “That’s what you think, isn’t it? That I don’t have an ounce of decency, that I’ll get my rocks off with anyone who offers.”
“Not just anyone,” she says in a small voice.
She doesn’t say anything more, but I know exactly what she isn’t saying, and complete the sentence for her. “Just Abby Mancuso. Is that it? Jesus Christ, would you let that go? I’m not still hung up on my high school girlfriend.”
She doesn’t meet my eyes, and now I’m pissed. I swipe a hand over my face, ignoring the fact that I flick water all over the place. What we both need is a towel to dry off, some distance both from the happiness of five minutes ago, and the anger of now.
It keeps happening this way with us, and I’m damn sick of it. Push pull, flirt fight, laugh…
And now this.
Whatever this is. Another fight, I suppose, but I just, I don’t…
“I’m so sick of this, Lucy. We can’t keep doing this.”
“Then you shouldn’t have agreed to the road trip!”
I step closer. “Don’t put this all on me.”
“But it is all on you!”
“How the fuck do you figure that?”
“You ruined us. We had something perfect, and you ruined it.”
Fine. She wants to have this out, let’s fucking do it.
I move even closer to her until we’re toe-to-toe, face-to-face. “No, you ruined it. You left. I was your summer fling before your real life began. You always made that perfectly clear.”
Her head tilts up to mine, her mouth parts in surprise, and I wonder…have I never said it? Have I never told her how much it hurt to have her disappear from my life?
I tell her now. “You were my everything, you were the one thing in my life that kept me centered, and you only ever talked about leaving.”
“Abby was your center,” she whispers. “She was your girlfriend for two years, and—”
“Stop.” My hand lifts, my thumb brushing the dampness from her cheek, not sure if it’s rain or tears. “She was my girlfriend, not my best friend.”
She swallows. “That was Craig.”
I laugh, and drop my hand. “Jesus, you’re stubborn. You refuse to acknowledge that you mattered?”
“Reece.”
I turn away and go to the door. “I’m going to get my own room. Lock the door behind me.”
“Reece!”
I don’t turn back. I’m going in circles with this girl, and it has to stop. She’s right. I shouldn’t have agreed to the road trip. Hell, I shouldn’t even have entered her orbit. She ruins everything.
I turn to my right, see that the man staying in Room 9 has come to see his new neighbors, and the dude is…
Creepy as fuck.
Wispy gray hair, faded wife-beater, ugly khakis, and eyes that fall onto the crazy side of weirdo.
Eyes that don’t even see me, because they’re locked onto Lucy.
Oh, hell no.
I’m not sending her back into the storm to get a new key, and I’m sure as hell not leaving her here alone. But both of us going to get a new room seems stupid, especially since no way am I letting her out of my sight with this guy lurking about and her only protection a flimsy door.
She shifts uneasily under the guy’s scrutiny.
Fuck it.
I drop a possessive hand low on her waist, pulling her toward my door, shifting so that I mostly block the guy’s view of her, giving him a fierce Get back in your room look.
He finally seems to register my presence, his expression borderline sulky as he slinks back into his own room.
I see the curtains of the windows move, and glance down at Lucy, smiling when she mouths creeper.
I open the door and we both wince. We’ve stayed in some pretty shitty motel rooms so far, but this one takes the cake.
“At least it doesn’t smell?” Lucy says, as I shut the door and use the dinky chain to lock the door.
I toss both our bags on the bed, wincing when it sags more than it should. Maybe sleeping on the floor will be a blessing.
Then I glance at the carpet, noting the iffy stains.
Or not.
Lucy unzips her bag, plucking at her tank top with two fingers, and I grind my teeth not to notice the way it clings. “How good does a hot shower and dry clothes sound right now?”
Right now I’m a lot more intrigued by Lucy in the shower than I am dry clothes. My mind flashes to the thought of us showering. Together. Me crowding her against the wall, my hands all over her soapy body, my lips on her neck as she tips her head back, moaning with pleasure.
God, I love the way she used to moan.
“I’ll go see about getting us another room,” I say in a low voice.
She spins around. “Oh, don’t leave me. That guy next door…”
“Has the muscle definition of a four-year-old. Flimsy as that lock is, he’s not getting through.”
“Please. Stay.”
I meet her eyes. “I can’t stay here in this room with you, Lucy. Not with one bed. Way too much temptation.”
She cups her elbows with her palms and seems to curl into herself. “Temptation because it’s me, or just because it’s been a while since you’ve gotten laid?”
My temper surges. “I’m not an animal. I don’t run after anything with tits.”
Lucy says nothing, and that pisses me off further, and I take a step closer. “That’s what you think, isn’t it? That I don’t have an ounce of decency, that I’ll get my rocks off with anyone who offers.”
“Not just anyone,” she says in a small voice.
She doesn’t say anything more, but I know exactly what she isn’t saying, and complete the sentence for her. “Just Abby Mancuso. Is that it? Jesus Christ, would you let that go? I’m not still hung up on my high school girlfriend.”
She doesn’t meet my eyes, and now I’m pissed. I swipe a hand over my face, ignoring the fact that I flick water all over the place. What we both need is a towel to dry off, some distance both from the happiness of five minutes ago, and the anger of now.
It keeps happening this way with us, and I’m damn sick of it. Push pull, flirt fight, laugh…
And now this.
Whatever this is. Another fight, I suppose, but I just, I don’t…
“I’m so sick of this, Lucy. We can’t keep doing this.”
“Then you shouldn’t have agreed to the road trip!”
I step closer. “Don’t put this all on me.”
“But it is all on you!”
“How the fuck do you figure that?”
“You ruined us. We had something perfect, and you ruined it.”
Fine. She wants to have this out, let’s fucking do it.
I move even closer to her until we’re toe-to-toe, face-to-face. “No, you ruined it. You left. I was your summer fling before your real life began. You always made that perfectly clear.”
Her head tilts up to mine, her mouth parts in surprise, and I wonder…have I never said it? Have I never told her how much it hurt to have her disappear from my life?
I tell her now. “You were my everything, you were the one thing in my life that kept me centered, and you only ever talked about leaving.”
“Abby was your center,” she whispers. “She was your girlfriend for two years, and—”
“Stop.” My hand lifts, my thumb brushing the dampness from her cheek, not sure if it’s rain or tears. “She was my girlfriend, not my best friend.”
She swallows. “That was Craig.”
I laugh, and drop my hand. “Jesus, you’re stubborn. You refuse to acknowledge that you mattered?”
“Reece.”
I turn away and go to the door. “I’m going to get my own room. Lock the door behind me.”
“Reece!”
I don’t turn back. I’m going in circles with this girl, and it has to stop. She’s right. I shouldn’t have agreed to the road trip. Hell, I shouldn’t even have entered her orbit. She ruins everything.
