Personal Demons (17 page)

Taylor is staring me down across the table. “He
kissed
you?”

A smile pulls at my mouth. It’s been a whole day, and my lips are still buzzing.

The waitress shows up with our mu shu pork, lemon chicken, and shrimp fried rice and slams the dishes down on the table. She throws a handful of chopsticks into the middle of the table, says something sharp in Cantonese, and leaves.

Riley looks after her mournfully as she storms away from our table. “Why does she hate us?”

I shrug, then turn my attention back to Taylor. “You’re just jealous,” I gloat, scooping some rice onto my plate. I tried to bail on girls’ night this week on account of hating Taylor’s guts right now, but Riley laid on some big guilt thing, and here I am. So I’m taking full advantage to rub Taylor’s face in it.

“So, he really did?” Riley says.

My eyes wander out the window past the flashing neon-green
OPEN
sign to the empty sidewalks and dark windows of the vacant storefronts across the street. For a second, I’m sure I see a black Shelby Cobra drive by in the glow of the neon lights. Wishful thinking, I guess. I smile sweetly at Taylor. “Well, I think I may have really been the one doing the kissing. It’s all a little fuzzy.”

“See! That’s what I mean. Stuff gets fuzzy with him. But he said nothing happened with us . . . ?”

“Nothing.”

“And you believe him?” Taylor’s waving her chopsticks around wildly, spraying lemon sauce all over the table.

“Well, he didn’t seem weird about it or anything. He said he was surprised you didn’t tell me that.”

“So,
I’m
lucky he shot me down,” she says, her face reflecting the disdain in her voice, “but it’s okay for
you
to kiss him?”

I can’t stop the stupid grin that spreads across my face. “Maybe I was wrong,” I say, hoping I’m right. Even if I’m not and he blows me off tomorrow, the look on Taylor’s face is almost worth it.

She shakes her head. “You kissed him.”

“Yep.”

“Like making-out kissing, or just one kiss?”

“Just one.” One seriously mind-blowing kiss.

Riley’s eyes are wide and her smile’s triumphant. “Are you guys, like, dating now?”

“I’m not sure . . . maybe.”

“How can you not know if you’re dating?” Taylor sneers through a mouthful of pork and cabbage.

“The same way you didn’t know if you slept with him.”

“I knew I didn’t
sleep
with him!”

“Whatever. We haven’t been on a real date. So technically, I’d have to say we’re not.”

“I hate you.”

“I know,” I say, still gloating. Can’t help it. It’s sort of a rush scooping Taylor for a change.

The tiniest of wry smiles quirks her lips, then she looks away and her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “So, that’s just weird,” she says looking past me. “Did you tell him we were gonna be here?”

“Who?” I turn and see Luc standing just inside the door under the
MING’S BAMBOO HOUSE—VERY GOOD FOOD
sign. He saunters over.

“I don’t want to interrupt anything.” His warm honey voice melts me. I really want to climb right into him, but I don’t want to be a shitty friend—at least not to Riley. I tear my eyes away from him and check in with them.

“Sit,” Taylor says, kicking the chair next to me out.

Luc crooks his eyebrow. “Riley . . . ?”

“We’ve got a ton of extra food. And it’s ‘very good,’ according to them. Eat,” she answers, cracking a smile. Maybe she’s not too pissed.

Luc folds himself into the chair next to me and slides it in, leaning toward me so his shoulder barely touches mine. “Thanks, but I’m not really hungry.”

“Then what are you doing at a Chinese restaurant?” Taylor scoffs.

“I was just walking by and saw you sitting here.”

“Whatever.” Taylor shoots a vindictive glance my way. “We were just talking about you.” And now I know why she was okay with letting him crash girls’ night. “Why are you screwing with us?”

I kick her under the table. “Taylor!”

Riley jumps in. “What she means is, you’re not just screwing with Frannie, are you?”

I kick Riley under the table. “Riley!”

Luc is trying not to laugh. “No, this is good. Tell me what you think, Riley.”

“Well, I think you’re into her . . .”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“I guess, as long as you’re serious. ’Cause Taylor and I are gonna have to kick your ass if you’re just messing with her.”

My cheeks are on fire. “Riley, I don’t need any help kicking asses.”

Taylor’s face pulls into an evil little smirk. “Yeah, Luc. Did you know? Frannie has a sixth-degree black belt in judo.”

He shoots me a grin. “Yeah. I got that when she threw that guy over her head at Gallaghers’.”

I plant my elbows on the table and bury my face in my hands. All the things Taylor could say to sabotage me—nine years of ammunition—spin through my head. In my mind, I beg her to back off.
Please, please, please, Taylor, don’t wreck this for me.

But when I feel Luc’s hand ease around my waist, my mind goes blank and my heart starts to careen to redline.

“So, to answer your question, Riley: I’m serious,” he says, and my redlining heart stops.

“I guess you’ll be driving her home,” Riley says.

“If that’s okay with you.”

I pull my face out of my hands. “What the hell? I don’t get a say?”

Luc lifts an eyebrow and a smile plays around those lips. I shudder, remembering how good they felt moving on mine. “So . . . ?”

I breathe against the flutter in my chest, hating that he knows how much I want him. I open my mouth to say no. “All right . . . I guess.”

Riley pushes her chair back and slings her purse over her shoulder, then grabs Taylor, whose expression has softened. “Let’s go.”

Taylor pulls herself out of her chair and smiles—a genuine smile that I’m not sure I’ve ever seen on her face before. But after a second, the smile takes on her signature lascivious edge. She rubs her hands together then raises them up near her shoulders, as if surrendering. “I’m out.” She cocks half a smile at me and turns for the door. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

What the hell?
Taylor backing off? I must be dreaming.

“In other words,” Riley says, nudging my shoulder, “anything goes.” She drops a huge tip onto the table on her way to the door, trying once again to get on our waitress’s good side.

I drop my face back into my hands, too embarrassed to look at Luc now that we’re alone.

He leans his shoulder into mine. “Hey.”

I don’t lift my face out of my hands. “Sorry about that,” I mumble into my palms.

“I think it’s charming that Riley’s looking out for you.”

My head snaps up and my cheeks burn. “Charming? Try mortifying.”

He smiles his wicked smile and nearly stops my heart. And when he leans in to kiss me, I’m pretty sure it does.

I can’t stop my hand from reaching for his face. I feel him shiver in answer and he locks gazes with me. “Let’s get out of here,” he says into my lips.

An achy tingle spreads through me and I smile a shaky smile. “I know just the place.”

This is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. And that’s saying something. Of course, that probably has more to do with Frannie than anything else. She seems to have that effect on me—makes everything feel new.

“You have to close your eyes,” she says. “It’s such a rush. You ready?”

“Yep.”

In the heavy night air, so full of the scents of the forest, the only sounds are the harmonies of croaking frogs and chirping crickets—and Frannie’s laughter, which is like a music all its own.

“Okay,” she says softly, leaning in for a kiss. My lips just touch hers when the gleam in her eye turns impish and she lets go of the rope.

I close my eyes as I swing out over the water, feeling the cool
wind in my face and through my hair. I feel like I’m floating through the darkness, and she’s right, it
is
a rush. Almost the same as being summoned by King Lucifer—the rush of being yanked through time and space. Except without the smell of brimstone and the dread in the pit of my stomach. I feel a tingle course through my entire body. When I glide through the air back to the shore, I step off of the rope swing onto the rocky edge of the quarry next to Frannie. She laughs again. Her face shines in the pale, silver moonlight, and I feel that same tingle.

She smiles up at me. “So . . . ? Pretty cool, huh?” She presses into me and pulls me into a kiss, setting me on fire with the touch of her lips. Mmm . . . clove and currant on my tongue. Her soul right here for the taking.

The sickle moon is low in the sky, creating shimmering shadows through the trees and casting a faint sheen on the water in the dark quarry. But that sheen isn’t enough to conceal the thousands of faceted jewels reflecting off the still surface of the water. I’ve never seen such a clear night with so many stars. The real show, though, is the cosmos shining in Frannie’s eyes.

“Okay, my turn,” she says, pushing me aside and grabbing the rope. I hold it steady as she steps onto the wooden disc knotted at the bottom.

“Ready?” I ask.

“Go,” she laughs and I let go of the rope.

I watch as she swings away from me, a silhouette against the shimmering water. The end of the rope drags over the surface, creating a ripple and setting the reflected stars in motion. Listening to her whoop and the ring of her laughter, I feel my own
laughter bubble up from somewhere deep inside me and erupt. It sounds foreign to me. Happy.

But then she screams, “Oh, shit!” There’s a splash followed by a larger ripple.

My laughter chokes off. “Frannie!” I yell, diving in after her. As I break the surface and listen for her, I swear I hear a rough and sultry chuckle from the edge of the quarry that fades into the sound of leaves rustling in the breeze. “Frannie!” I yell again. No answer. Fighting panic, I swim to the spot that the rope reaches at full swing and dive under. I draw on my power and my hand illuminates the murky water around me in a red glow as I swim slowly back toward the rocks. Just before I reach the edge, a hand flails up from the dark depths. I reach for it, pulling her to the surface. Frannie comes up coughing and gasping for air.

“Something . . . grabbed . . . me,” she gasps, her teeth chattering so hard I can barely understand her.

Relief washes over me as I loop an arm around her and pull her back to the edge of the quarry. I push her in front of me as we scramble up the slippery rocks and out of the icy water.

“Are you okay?”

“Uh-huh. Just . . . freezing,” she chatters back, still gasping for air.

I can already see the steam rising off my wet clothes as we stand in the cool night air, so I wrap my body around hers and pull her hair back, wringing it out behind her. I hold her as my body absorbs her violent shivers, and after a few moments I see the steam start to rise off her as well.

“Mmm . . .” she moans. “God, you’re so hot.”

I smile. God has nothing to do with it.

“It felt like something grabbed my leg,” she finally says as her shaking starts to ease.

“Probably got your foot caught on a tree root.”

“I guess . . . but it didn’t feel like it.”

I hold her as her shaking slows, and we start to sway in rhythm to the chirping crickets. As the moon arcs high over the quarry, over us, I’m completely lost in her. Nothing has ever felt so right—but also so wrong. We dance and there’s only the music, her and me. No game plan.

Even though my clothes and hair are mostly dry, I spend the whole ride back to my house trying to figure out how I’m gonna explain showing up with Luc, looking like this, to my parents. When the house comes into view, I still have no clue.

I’m also trying to wrap my mind around Luc—or really, how Luc makes me feel. It’s completely different than how I feel with Gabe, but no less scary. Just scary in a completely different way. With Gabe, the feeling is strong and deep. With Luc, it’s wild and out of control. I don’t trust Luc. How could I? But I also don’t want this feeling to stop.

He pulls into my driveway and cuts the engine. I sit, wishing I could just stay right here forever.

“So . . .” he says.

“So . . .” I say back. And then he reaches for me, sweeping back my hair, and leans in to kiss me. I feel myself turn to Jell-O
as his lips move on mine. I have to remind myself to breathe. After a really long time, but not nearly long enough, he pulls back.

“I guess I should walk you to the door.”

I pull my wild hair behind my neck and tie it in a knot. “Oh . . . that may not be such a great idea.”

He smiles. “Like they aren’t looking out the window right now. They know you’re with me.”

I glance at the house and see the curtains sway from where they were just dropped. The front door flies open, and Mom is standing there in her blue June Cleaver dress and heels, arms folded over her chest and eyes wide.

“And she also knows you just kissed me,” he says, his smile stretching into that wicked grin.

Crap. Crap.
“Crap.”

Luc chuckles then slides out of the car and comes around to open my door. Nice touch. He takes my hand and helps me out of the car. He doesn’t let go as we move up my front walk; I love the feel of his hand burning into mine. It’s everything I can do not to drag him back to his car and tell him to drive me somewhere we can be alone.

“Good evening, Mrs. Cavanaugh.”

“Hello,” she says curtly—which, for my mother, is like cursing him out. Then her eyes shift to me and, even in the dim porch light, I’m sure I look a disaster. “What happened?” Her eyes dart suspiciously back to Luc.

I bite back the hysterical laughter that threatens as I think about saying,
Luc ravaged me in his backseat.
Which, now that I think of it, was what happened in my dream last night. But
instead, I swallow my pride and tell the truth. “I fell in the quarry. Luc saved me.” As much as I hate to admit the whole damsel in distress thing, maybe it will earn him a brownie point or two.