Crash Into You (8 page)

Chapter 14
Rachel

MY MOUTH FALLS OPEN, AND
only when it starts to get dry do I close it. What would I do if he kissed me? Go into shock? Have multiple seizures? Jump up and down? I take in a shaky breath. Isaiah called me brave so I rush out the words. “Kiss you back?”

His gray eyes soften as if I gave an acceptable answer, but then he studies my face with a sober expression. “How many boyfriends have you had?”

My entire body sags, and I lace my fingers together, unlace them and lace them again. “Why?”

“Because.” His hand covers mine to halt my serial lacing. “I’ve never met anyone like you. I’m...trying to understand you.”

I don’t want to answer. I like the idea of him thinking of me as brave, as the girl who teases him in a bar. I don’t want him to see me as I really am—the tongue-twisted ’fraidy cat who’s never dated a guy.

“I don’t care what the answer is,” he prods. “But I need to know.”

There is no way I can admit this and meet his eyes, so I focus on our combined hands. “I’ve never had a boyfriend.”

I take a quick peek and Isaiah nods once, as if he already knew what I would say. He raises his hand to my face again and I allow the touch. His fingers slide along my jawline and the warmth of his caresses radiates past my skin and into my bloodstream. Pleasing goose bumps rise on my neck.

“Do you think you’ll come back sometime?” he asks. “And let me help you with your car?”

My ears ring with the staccato thrum, thrum, thrum of my heart. Holy crap, I can’t believe this is happening to me.

“I’ll make it work. I swear.” The words tumble out of my mouth without thought. That’s not true. Actually, they tumble out with a lot of thought of how my parents won’t approve, of how my brothers will kill Isaiah, then possibly kill me. But in this moment, I don’t care what any of them think.

“I want to kiss you,” Isaiah says.

A rush of terror and excitement floods my body. “Isaiah, I’ve never...”

“It’s okay.” Oh, God, his voice is dark and smooth and hypnotic.

I suck in air and sort of clumsily move my head so he knows this is what I want. “What do I do? I mean, how do I...”

And he doesn’t let me finish. Isaiah lazily yet deliberately tilts his head as he stares into my eyes. My entire body hums and a fuzzy sensation fills my head, making it hard to focus. My mouth opens then closes. And as he slowly bends down, my tongue quickly licks my dry lips.

I hope I’m doing this right. I want to do this right.

Isaiah slips his hand from my chin to cradle my head. His fingers tunnel through my hair, making the back of my neck tingle with anticipation as the pad of his thumb whispers gently against my cheek. His lips hover right next to mine and his warm breath heats my face.

The blood pounds so wildly in my veins that he has to sense the vibration. There’s a magnetic pull taking over the small distance between our lips. An energy I can’t resist. My head inclines opposite his and the moment I close my eyes, his mouth brushes mine.

Soft. Warm. Gentle. His lips move slowly, exerting pressure. And I feel like I can’t breathe, yet like I’m flying. The pressure ends, but his mouth stays near mine. His hand grips my waist and my spine gives at the shockingly right pleasure of his touch.

Isaiah senses my weakness and his hand snakes its way around my waist, his strong arm holds me up. And he explores again. A little pressure on my lower lip. A little pressure on the top. And then I remember that I’m supposed to kiss him back.

Nerves send small shock waves through my chest, and my hand trembles as I raise it to his shoulders. I press both my lips into his lower one right as my fingers caress the side of his neck. Isaiah shivers. In a good way, I think.

I open my mouth to ask when his lips move fast against mine, sucking in my lower one, causing warmth and excitement to explode in my body, the aftermath of that divine encounter melting every piece of me.

I moan, and Isaiah’s arm tightens, bringing my body closer to his. My lips maneuver against his in response. A
yes
to his pulling me closer. A
yes
to his lips taking in mine. A
yes
to the fact that he allows me to perform the same succulent kiss on him.

I can’t help it. I permit the tip of my tongue to barely brush his lower lip. Isaiah curls my hair into his fist and I love how my touch affects him, affects me. Wrapping my other arm around his neck, I lose all sense of independence with his sweet taste.

I like this. I like this a lot.

Isaiah takes over again and kisses me gently once more. Twice. The third time a little longer. And then his lips let me go.

Chapter 15
Isaiah

RACHEL SMILES.

It’s a beautiful smile. One that brightens the rat-infested attic room. No one has ever smiled like that at me. No one. Everything inside me twists with the need to keep her close.

I should be pissed. Who knows if I’ll ever see the money from Eric. Who knows if Noah and I will lose the lease, sending me back into the system. Right now, I don’t fucking care. I’m touching an angel.

My spine prickles as the window near the fire escape groans. My grip on Rachel tightens, and I bring her up with me as I stand. A leg pokes through the widening gap, and I shove Rachel behind me. Every instinct screams to protect her, to fight. I automatically widen my stance and hold my arms out at my sides, willing to take whatever bullet is coming our way, willing to run right into the bastard the moment he’s through.

With half of his body in, Noah halts in the window frame. His muscles tense as he warily sizes me up. “Rough night, bro?”

I lower my arms. “We’ve got a fucking door, man.”

Noah shuts the window and attempts to lock it, only to curse as he remembers that the latch is still broken. “Forgot my key at Echo’s. Your car’s not out there so I assumed you weren’t home.”

He walks to the bedroom and stops as his gaze shifts to what I’m assuming is Rachel. “My bad.” Noah pivots on his heel and heads for the door.

“Noah, wait.” Locking my arm around her shoulder, I bring Rachel to my side. “Don’t go.”

“It’s good.” He reaches for the doorknob with one hand and rubs his eyes with the other. “I forgot something in my car.”

“Stay.” I glance at the clock. It’s after one. He’s been pulling morning shifts at his job and will need to be awake in a few hours. The guy’s wiped with black circles under his eyes, but has my back because he thinks I’m trying to score. “I was going to walk Rachel to her car.”

“You sure?” He jacks his thumb in the direction of the stairwell.

“Yeah. Don’t sweat it. Rachel—Noah. Noah, this is Rachel.”

His eyebrows slowly rise so that they disappear beneath his hair. He and I, we don’t introduce each other to the girls we bring home. In the past, sometimes the one-nighters became clingy and neither one of us wanted the other dealing with that situation. Of course, Noah’s not like that anymore. Now that he has Echo.

Noah’s eyes sway between me and her. “S’up, Rachel.”

“Nothing,” she says as if wondering if her response is correct. Rachel leans closer to me and I stroke her shoulder in an act of comfort and in the hopes Noah sees that Rachel is more than a fuck.

“I think I left my bracelets in the bathroom.” Like a small bird in flight, Rachel flits across the room and abruptly closes the bathroom door behind her. Drywall drops from the ceiling and scatters across the kitchen floor.

Noah’s mouth tugs up. “Guess that means we’re losing our security deposit.”

I spread my arms out and half whisper, half yell, “What the hell? She’s not a whore.”

“Never said she was.” He crosses the room and opens the fridge. “Want a beer?”

Sure. Why don’t I go ahead and light a joint while I’m at it? I follow him and place my hand on the open door of the fridge to get his attention while still whispering. “I’m serious. She’s not like that. Treat her with some respect.”

Noah twists off the top of an MGD and surveys me while he swallows. “I thought I was treating you both with respect.” He also lowers his voice when I gesture at the bathroom to indicate I don’t need her overhearing this conversation. “I tried to leave.”

“You made her think she was a one-night stand.” I slam the refrigerator door shut.

“Excuse the shit out of me. I thought she was.” He points his beer at me. “You’re not dating. The last girl you touched was Beth.”

My fists ball at the mention of her name, and Noah waves me off. “And don’t start on that shit. She’s gone, she’s happy and she ain’t coming back. And, yeah, I still talk to her because she’s the closest thing I’ve got to a sister, so I can say her damned name if I want to.”

“Noah,” I say as a warning.

“Beth,” he tauntingly whispers. “Beth, Beth, Beth, Beth, Beth. If you’re going to take a swing at me, bro, do it, because I’m damn tired of walking on eggshells because of that girl.”

My heart rips open again with every acknowledgment of her existence. He needs to stop and he needs to stop now. Especially with Rachel here. I like her and I don’t need Noah ruining it with her by reminding me of a past that will never change. “You’re a cranky son of a bitch when you’re tired.”

The tension between us drains when Noah chuckles and swigs the beer. I’m not good at much, but I’m good at deflecting. He kneads his eyes with his fists again and releases a long breath. “Look, I walk in at 1:00 a.m. to find you holding a pretty girl wearing your shirt.”

He’s right. I overreacted. “Noah,” I interrupt.

“Do I sound like I’m done talking? It looked like you were hooking up so I assumed you were hooking up. My apologies. I’m sorry. I’m the asshole. It’s done so get the fuck over it. As for making her feel like a one-night stand, last time I checked, saying ‘s’up’ doesn’t translate to ‘thanks for banging my best friend.’ And do you want to tell me why the hell I’m whispering in my own apartment?”

“Because I like her.”

Noah blinks because words like that don’t come easily from me. He tilts up the bottle, finishes the rest and places the empty container on the counter. “That changes things.”

“As a friend,” I add quickly but then realize friends don’t kiss. Shit, I’ve messed this up.

The door to the bathroom opens and we both stare at Rachel. She plays with the gold bracelets on her wrist. “Sorry it took so long. My bracelets fell and rolled behind the sink and...it took a bit to get them out.”

Even Noah visibly cringes at the thought of anyone putting their hand in the two-inch gap behind the sink. “You should have called me,” I say. “I would have gotten them.”

Her gaze switches between me and Noah. “It’s all right. I got them. So—” she rocks on her toes “—are you ready to go?”

“Yeah. Let’s roll.”

Rachel gathers her coat from the couch and pauses when Noah says her name.
Damn, Noah, don’t screw this up.

“Rachel,” he repeats, obviously searching for something good to say. “It was nice to meet you. You should come back. Meet my girl, Echo. We’ll hang out or some shit like that.”

Or some shit like that.
I want to slam his head and my own into the wall.

“Okay.” She has that what-the-hell look people get when they watch reality TV. “It was nice to meet you, too.”

When her back’s to us both, I mouth at Noah,
Or some shit like that?

He mouths back,
I’m trying
.

I unbolt the door and when she steps into the hallway, I whisper to him, “Real elegant, man. And the girls thought you were fucking smooth.”

Noah laughs. “I am smooth, bro. But now I’m only smooth with Echo.”

Right before I shut the door, I flip Noah off. His laughter rings through the hallway.

At the bottom of the stairs, Rachel waits for me to open the door. I’ve never seen a girl wait like that before or known a girl who’d make the assumption that a guy would open it for her. Rachel was probably raised to expect guys to open doors, and she’s probably around enough guys who were taught to do it.

I like that she waits, and I like opening it for her. When I was a kid, I preferred the guys my mom dated who did crazy stuff like that.

The cold air clings to my bare arms as we walk out onto the sidewalk. The temperature has dropped dramatically since we first met at the drag race. A moment that feels like lifetimes ago.

Rachel shivers and places her hands in her coat pockets, leaving me unsure of what to do. Is she cold and I should put my arm around her shoulder, or is she telling me to stay clear? The muscles tighten in my neck and I shake my head to clear the chaos.
Get a grip, man.
How can I be confused over a girl?

“Your roommate seems nice,” she says with forced lightness.

Her attempt to make us okay rattles me—in a good way. I can’t think of many people who have ever tried to make things work with me. “Noah’s great, but he was off tonight.”

“It’s okay. I’m sure it was weird to see a girl in his apartment.”

I pull at my bottom earring. I’ve been with other girls. The ones who were interested in being with the guy with the tattoos and earrings for a night. I’ve never minded being used. But with Rachel, there’s a softness that hits her eyes when she looks in my direction, and it’s messing with me.

“Tell him I’m sorry I was there so late,” she continues. “I don’t want him to think badly of me.”

“You...ah...”
Didn’t pick up that he thought you were a one-night stand?
“Weren’t scared of Noah?”

Rachel sort of laughs, “No.” She pauses. “Should I be? He seemed friendly.”

“No, he’s cool. You bolted into the bathroom and...”

She dips her head, and as we pass a streetlight, I catch the red invading her cheeks. “Sorry about that. I
did
forget my bracelets and I
did
drop them, but it was weird, you know, meeting someone at 1:00 a.m.”

“Yeah.” Weirder than that? She was there at one in the morning and I hadn’t slept with her. I shove my hands into my jeans pockets and silently curse myself.

I glance at Rachel, and she quickly averts her eyes when I spot her spying on me. What the fuck does she see when she looks at me? If she saw what was inside, she’d be screaming. The outside is modest projection.

Rachel can’t like me because she doesn’t know me. The real me. For Rachel, life is still sunshine, rainbows and pink fucking fuzzy unicorns. I’m nothing but darkness, clouds and rats.

I should never have kissed her or brought her home. She deserves better than the brokenness inside me. I’ll hold on to tonight. Burn the memory of the way she’s looked at me into my mind because that’s as close as I’ll ever get to something like this again. Besides, if she saw me in daylight, away from the filth that I live in, she’d change her mind.

Just like Beth did the moment she left town.

Faster than I would have preferred, we reach the parking lot of the auto shop.

“What about your car?” she asks as I enter the security code.

The motor whines as the garage door lifts. “I’ll head over and fix the tire now.”

“Do you want help? I’m pretty crafty with a jack and a tire iron.”

I turn to tell her no and stop when I see her face. I swear, she glows. Her eyes shine like stars, and her smile radiates with a light all its own. My throat swells. I don’t want to give her up. “No. I don’t want you getting into trouble at home.”

“See, you
are
bossy.” She finally takes her hands out of her pockets and nudges my biceps with one delicate finger.

My heart stutters with her caress, and as she drops her arm, I quickly reach out and snake my fingers through hers. So close to letting her go, I shouldn’t touch her, but in my defense, she touched me first. “Not bossy. Concerned. Truth, Rachel, I want to know if you feel safe going home.”

“It’s fine. Ethan would have texted me if there were problems. Mom and Dad probably haven’t even come home for the night.”

Yeah. I knew all about guardians who stayed out late to party. I guess having money changes nothing in the realm of shitty parenting. “Tell me your brothers protect you.” Because if not, I’d have to meet them in a dark alley sometime and school them on how to treat their sister.

“More like they’re overprotective.”

I savor the feel of the smooth skin of her hand. No girl I have ever touched has had hands this soft. “That’s not a bad thing.”

Rachel releases a frustrated sigh. “You know, I’m starting to think I misjudged you. You sound annoyingly like my brothers.”

She’s right on one thing: she has misjudged me, but not in the way she thinks. “Good. I’m all for overprotection.”

“Bossy.”

I chuckle, and the sound makes her smile. I’m going to miss that smile.
Tell her it’s over, asshole.
Tell her that you come from two different worlds and that it would never work. Tell her that kiss meant more to you than she could ever imagine. Tell her that you’ll dream about her and think about her, but that’s where it ends.

The color drains from her face and her hand goes limp in mine. Did she figure out I’m bad news on her own? She heads for her car. “Do you have my keys?”

I fish them out of my pocket and toss them to her. With the click of a button, the car unlocks and she opens the passenger door. She keeps her back to me for a second then turns with a piece of paper in her hand. “Here’s my number. I almost forgot to give it to you.”

I swallow as I stare at the number.
Tell her. Just fucking tell her.
“Rachel...”

“You’ll call, right?” And the small amount of hurt in her voice stabs my heart.

I envelop Rachel in my arms and cup her head to my chest. She smells good. Like the ocean. Like her jacket. I try to memorize the feel of her body against mine: all soft and warm and curves. The paper in her hand crinkles as she links one arm, then another around my waist. Leaning into me, she lets out a contented sigh and I close my eyes with the sound.

Ten seconds. I’ll keep her for ten more seconds.

I want to keep her.

Two.

I shouldn’t.

Four.

Maybe she can see past what I am. We don’t have to be more. We can be friends.

Seven.

I can fix this.

Nine.

I can make anything work.

Ten.

“I’ll call.”

With bright eyes, she shoves the number into my hand. “Okay. I’ll talk to you soon.”

I nod, and without another word, Rachel slips into the driver’s seat, turns over the engine and glides her Mustang out of the auto shop. Grasping my lifeline to her, I watch as her red taillights fade into the distance.

I smile, then groan as I inhale.

I can recognize three girls by their scent. Tonight I learned that Rachel smells like the ocean. Beth reminded me of crushed roses. And this girl—wild honey. I may not see her, but she’s there. Every ounce of happiness flees with the realization that my life can’t be changed. “What do you want, Abby?”