Come Back To Me (10 page)

and jogs upstairs to get dressed. Jessa’s waiting by the

back door and as soon as I unlock it she comes darting

inside. She’s skittery and nervous, and she looks anx-

iously over my shoulder. I put a hand on her waist and

pull her behind the kitchen door. She looks up at me with

those eyes as wide as the ocean and gives me a smile −

the smile of someone who just got away with a bank

heist; or the smile of a girl who just spent the night

making out under the stars.

I kiss her and she loops her arms around my neck.

Somehow, maybe because we’re in her kitchen, maybe

because we know we could be walked in on at any

moment, or maybe just because we’re both still buzzing

on the memory of the night and the relief of having got

away with it, this kiss is the hottest yet. For the first time I

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let my hands rove from her waist, stroking up her sides,

my thumb tracing the curve of her breast. She inhales

loudly, pushing her hips against my now very obvious

erection. Crap. I take a step back, holding her at arm’s

length, and take a deep breath. Down boy. I don’t want to

try explaining that one to Riley.

Jessa grins at me, a dangerous look in her eye. Oh, she

knows. I shake my head at her. This girl is going to get

me into all sorts of trouble.
Bring it
, is my brain’s shame-

lessly immediate response.

‘Can I see you later?’ I ask, cursing myself for how

eager I sound.

She nods.

‘OK, I’ll call you,’ I tell her, then remember I don’t have

her number. ‘Wait,’ I say, pulling out my phone, ‘what’s

your number?’

Jessa takes the phone out of my hand and quickly taps

in her number. I watch her, feeling a buzz in the pit of

my stomach at the possibility that this girl might become

mine. When she’s done she hands me back my phone

with a shy smile. For a moment I forget where I am and

can think only about pulling her into my arms again and

feeling her body against mine. I take a deep breath. Riley

will be back any second.

‘You should go, get some sleep,’ I say. Go, before I

really am put in a compromising position, is what I’m

thinking.

Jessa smiles at me, biting her bottom lip (imagining

something that’s against the rules, I hope), then reaches

up on tiptoe to kiss me goodbye. Just as she does, the

door swings open and we both jump back as Riley walks

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Mila Gray

into the kitchen. He stops mid-step as he takes a look at

Jessa and me and I can see his instincts flare.

‘What are you doing up?’ he asks Jessa, eyes narrowed.

‘I heard the doorbell,’ Jessa answers smoothly before

looking at me and crossing her arms over her chest.

‘Thanks for that,’ she snarks. ‘You know, some of us like

to lie in on a Sunday morning.’

‘Sorry,’ I tell her, shrugging, and take the opportunity

to position myself behind the counter before her brother

can join the dots: Miss Scarlet slaying Colonel Mustard in

the kitchen with a candlestick.

‘You want water?’ Jessa asks me now, turning and

reaching up into a cabinet for a glass.

My eyes dip straightaway to her ass. I mean, she’s

wearing the shortest pair of shorts imaginable and she’s

stretched on tiptoe right in front of me. The girl is taunt-

ing me. Jessa Kingsley, innocent, sweet Jessa Kingsley is

sexually taunting me. And I am sexually slain. I’m just

glad I had the foresight to stand behind the counter.

Jessa fills up the glass and then hands it to me. She

holds my gaze, trying hard not to smirk. I think of all

the ways I’d like to transform that smirk into something

else.

‘What were you doing last night?’

I look over at Riley who’s looking at me the same

way I’ve seen him look at people he’s interrogating. Did

he just see me staring at his sister’s ass? I look back at

Jessa who’s leaning against the countertop with her head

cocked, arms crossed against her chest and an amused

expression on her face.

‘Oh, you know,’ I mumble. I’m not half as good as Jessa

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at this whole acting business and I’m not used to lying to

Riley. ‘Not much. You?’ I deflect.

‘I hung out with Jo,’ he answers, the suspicion imme-

diately transforming into a sly smile. He must have got

some. ‘So, good to go?’ he asks, heading for the front

door.

‘See you later,’ Jessa says, sauntering past us and up

the stairs.

I stare after her behind Riley’s back like a starving man

in front of a feast, having to consciously stop my feet

from following her up the stairs.

‘Yeah,’ I call back, ‘laters.’

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Jessa

‘Tell me everything!’ Didi demands the moment I sit

down beside her. ‘Every little thing! I want all the sordid

details.’ Her eyes bulge like satellite dishes. ‘Did you . . . ?’

‘No!’ I say. ‘And I’ve told you everything already.’ She

was the first person I called when I woke up this after-

noon.

‘Does he have a big—’

‘Didi!’ I yell. ‘I wouldn’t know!’

Didi pulls her sunglasses down her nose, which is

wrinkling in disappointment. ‘So you didn’t . . . ’

‘Oh my God, Didi! How many times do I have to tell

you? We just kissed. That’s all. There was no sex.’

Didi collapses back down on her towel with a sigh,

pressing a hand to her heart. ‘It’s just so romantic.’

I cover my smile by pulling off my T-shirt and adjust-

ing the straps on my bikini self-consciously. Didi always

chooses the busiest section of the beach to lay out her

towel, and today is no exception. If the beach were a

stadium concert, we’d be in the middle of the mosh pit.

I’d rather be somewhere away from the pier, somewhere

quieter, but I know Didi won’t move. Her eyes are glued

to the group of guys beside us who are playing a sweaty,

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boisterous game of volleyball. That would be why Didi

chose this spot – so she could have front row seats.

Didi seems convinced that life is a conspiracy, a game

that the rest of us get to play while she’s trapped on the

sidelines watching, waiting for someone to come along

and invite her to join in − preferably someone riding a

white stallion and carrying a bouquet of red roses. This is

why she always places herself in the centre of any action,

to increase the chances of being in the right place at the

right time when he does arrive. Didi never wavers in her

belief that one day he will, and for that I admire her.

Though I also worry she’s reading too many historical

romance novels with bare-chested, chisel-jawed men on

the front covers.

I’m sure it won’t be too long a wait, though, consider-

ing the attention she’s attracting in her polka-dot two-

piece. It makes her look like a 1950s pin-up, giving an

upward thrust to her boobs that Madonna would be jeal-

ous of. Didi would never go anywhere or be seen by

anyone without her make-up and hair in perfect order.

Even at the beach she exudes glamour. Next to her I blend

into the sand like a chameleon.

Didi suddenly props herself up on her elbows. ‘Show

me the text message he sent.’

I rootle in my bag for my phone and hand it to her.

‘How am I supposed to use this?’ she asks after staring at

it for several seconds. ‘It’s in Arabic.’

I take it from her. I’ve not yet managed to fix the lan-

guage setting. But I have at least figured out how to

open messages, so while I still can’t send any, I can read

incoming ones. When I woke up I might have thought

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Mila Gray

everything with Kit had been a dream if it weren’t for my

chapped lips and his text.

‘Oh my God,’ Didi sighs dramatically, reading out

loud. ‘
I had a great night. Sweet dreams
.’ She holds the

phone to her chest and looks at me. ‘He is
so
into you.’

My heart does a little bounce at the words. Is he? Every

time I remember the way he kissed me I get a flutter in

my stomach, but is he into me in the way that Didi’s sug-

gesting? A tiny voice of doubt nags at me. This is Kit, who

has never dated anyone for longer than a week. Kit, who

really knows how to kiss (and must have learned that

somewhere). And then there’s my inclination towards

suspicion. If anything good ever happens to me, it usu-

ally has a price tag attached. Like the time I was fifteen

and won an open-call audition for the part of Lyra in a

theatre production of
His Dark Materials
and my dad

refused to let me do it. Or the time a boy I liked – Matt

Trenton – asked me to his junior prom. I was so excited,

bought a new dress, spent weeks fantasizing about finally

getting my first kiss, and then my dad went and ruined it

all. When Matt came by to collect me, my dad dragged

him into his study for
a few words
. I’m not sure exactly

what those words were, but when Matt came back out, he

could barely look me in the eye and for the whole even-

ing he kept at least three foot of space between us. I cried

myself to sleep that night.

Anyway, it’s why I’m cautious now about Kit. He’s like

a shiny gold coin that I want to keep in my pocket and

hold on to. I’m scared to take it out and look at it in case it

gets tarnished, or in case someone catches a glimpse of it

and tries to snatch it from me.

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‘Is he coming here?’ Didi asks, tossing back my phone.

I shake my head. ‘No, he’s going to his cousin’s. They

always have a family lunch on Sundays.’ I try not to

sound disappointed. The truth is I can’t wait to see him

again, and not knowing when that will be is making me

feel jittery.

‘What’s he like? Is he a good kisser?’ Didi asks, rolling

onto her stomach.

‘The best,’ I say, closing my eyes and getting an instant

flashback to that moment in the bushes when Kit put his

arms around my waist and drew me towards him. I don’t

have huge amounts of experience, having only kissed two

other people before him, but now I can’t even remember

the others. ‘Just . . . ’ I sigh, remembering Kit’s lips graz-

ing up my throat and suppressing a shiver . . . ‘amazing.’

‘Who’s amazing?’

Didi and I both jump. I spin around onto my back. It’s

Jo, my brother’s girlfriend. Which means Riley can’t be

far behind. Jo drops her bag into the sand and stands

there squinting down at us. She puts her hands on her

hips and a sly smile stretches her lips. ‘Are you two talk-

ing about boys?’

‘No,’ I say immediately, feeling my cheeks starting to

get hot.

‘Yes,’ says Didi at exactly the same time.

Jo cocks her head, her brown eyes narrowed. I kick

Didi with my foot, managing to spray sand all over the

towels. It’s not that I don’t trust Jo, but at the end of the

day she’s Riley’s girlfriend and I can’t take a chance on

him finding out about Kit and me.

Didi flares her eyes at me, warning me to just go along

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Mila Gray

with whatever she’s about to say next. ‘We were just dis-

cussing a guy I’m really into,’ she says, grinning up at Jo.

‘Who?’ Jo asks, collapsing down beside us, her eyes

bright with the lure of gossip.

‘Um, I met him at a party,’ Didi says.

I have to stop myself from pulling a face or kicking her

again. Didi is the worst at lying. Where is she going with

this?

‘What’s his name?’ Jo asks.

Didi freezes. Her eyes dart briefly towards mine and

I can see she’s starting to panic. ‘Peter,’ she suddenly

blurts.

Peter? Where did she get that from? I jump to my feet.

I need to cut this conversation short before Didi digs a

huge hole for us.

‘I’m going for a swim. Coming?’ I say, glaring down at

her.Didi bounces to her feet. ‘Sure,’ she says, looking

thoroughly relieved at the out I just threw her.

‘Thanks for that,’ I mumble as we jog to the water.

‘That was a totally awesome save.’

‘Any time,’ Didi answers, flashing me a smile.

I do a double-take, not sure if she’s being serious.

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Kit

The sand is burning hot but I don’t even notice − I’m too

busy scanning the bodies on the beach trying to find

Jessa. I feel like I do just before we head out on man-