The Vampire Diaries: Trust In Betrayal (Kindle Worlds) (In Time We Trust Trilogy Book 3) (7 page)

I brace myself because usually the more sympathetic she seems, the harder she’s about to kick my ass.

“I’ve seen the way you look at her, Stefan.”

My fingers clench. “She’s a nice-looking girl…”

Caroline scoffs. “Yeah, like you’ve noticed the last two hundred ‘nice-looking girls’ who have paraded around in front of you. Did you even
see
that girl at the gas station this morning with the Dooney and Bourke purse and the Pantene Pro-V hair? She was waving her Pilates butt at you like a checkered flag.”

I blink blankly at Caroline. “You mean the counter girl?”

She drops her head, pinching her temples, paper rustling on the to-do list she’s still holding. “Like a gas station counter girl could ever afford a Dooney and Bourke,” Caroline groans and I try not to look as confused as I am.

She sighs, looking back up at me.

“Stefan, you’re attracted to Cali because of what she means to you. Because she reminds you that you can do good as well as bad. It’s the same way you used to cling to—” She stops, looking slightly embarrassed and my eyes narrow.

“To whom, Caroline?”

“Never mind. The point is, Cali may be your type, but only on the surface. You guys have nothing in common, and in case you haven’t noticed, Elena’s little brother is head over heels for the girl.”

“You just met her last night,” I point out. “How do you know we have nothing in common?”

“She’s twenty-two, she’s way into dancing, and she plays just about every instrument there is,” Caroline says. “She uses Ivory soap and generic brand shampoo, but she shells out for fancy conditioner. She hates liars and loves pie, and even though she denies it, I’m pretty sure her full name is California Jameson.”

“
I
play the guitar,” I point out, not even sure why I’m defending myself right now. It’s not like I’ve asked Cali on a date. “We both like music, and she’s named after a state that I love and whiskey.” I try out a smile, trying to tease Caroline out of lecture mode. “Maybe it’s fate.”

“You hate dancing, I’ve never seen you pick up that guitar, you haven’t visited California or even talked about it in the last two
years
and yeah, you both like rock and classical, but you’re early ‘80s hair bands and snooty composers. She’s post-millennium indie bands, blues and ‘60s rock, edgy orchestral and probably Bach.” Caroline gives one sharp nod. “You’d last three weeks, if that.”

“What are you, the Magic 8 Ball of relationships?” I mutter.

“I’ve seen enough go bad.” She fiddles with her pad of paper, giving a rueful smile and half a roll of her eyes. “Okay, I’ve
been
in enough that went bad so I can see the pitfalls a mile away. Besides, are you really going to cock-block Jeremy?” She gives me a baleful blue-eyed gaze. “He’s practically your kid brother, and he’s homeless for the second time in less than a year.”

I try to scrape up a scowl. “Since when do you use the word ‘cock-block’?”

“Frat parties,” she says. “Hey, I learned a few things in my first month of freshman year, okay?”

“Yeah, well put away the Psych 101 textbook,” I tell her, swallowing a sigh. “I’m not trying to get with Katherine
or
Cali. I’m just…I don’t know, trying to distract myself.”

She bites her lip, squeezing my arm again. If she gets any more sympathetic, she’s going to leave bruises. “I’m so sorry you lost all your things in the fire, Stefan,” she says.

I look away, staring unfocusedly at a display of fishing poles. “It’s just stuff,” I say, because I know that’s what she wants to hear.

“It
is
just stuff.” She sounds pleased at my conclusion. “And you still have the memories that went with all those things. You can never lose those.”

Before I can think of something placating to say, she swoops in, testing my ribs with a ferocious hug that presses her soft breasts against my chest, her notepad digging into my spine. “And you still have the people who you’re going to make more memories with.”

It’s a cliché, but something about her words trips me up. I swallow and let my arms find their way around her slim shoulders, the silky waves of her hair tickling my knuckles.

“Yeah,” I say gruffly, squeezing her a little tighter than I meant to. “I know.”

JEREMY

Cali’s ear buds pour a song from the Raconteurs into my left ear and her right one while my pencil skip-slides across the page, the cartoon sketch taking form more quickly now. When you have a good sketchbook with heavy paper, you can feel the texture up through the pencil and it’s almost like a hum, the sound guiding you to the picture that wants to be born.

All I have right now is a spiral notebook from a Texaco and the lined paper is too smooth: it makes each pencil mark come out looking one-dimensional and a touch too long. But this is my second try on this sketch and I think I’m getting it now, even though it’s a pain in the ass to hold the flashlight balanced on my lap so I can see in the shadows of the Camaro’s backseat.

I smirk, nudging the shading at the edge of Matt’s mouth to emphasize his befuddled look of terror. I pause, and then change the line of Katherine’s eyebrows so she looks more predatory than seductive. Her hands reach out toward Matt’s belt buckle, fingers slightly pointed so they look like claws.

I steal a look at Cali but her eyes are vague on the dark forest beyond th
e window of the car. I like how when I draw, she never tries to watch over my shoulder like other people do.

Her hands are resting on the tight legs of her jeans, fingers tapping the rhythm in an odd, complicated way. Must be a drummer thing. My gaze slips down her long legs for about the dozenth time today, because she’s wearing those shoes again, the ones that leave the tops of her feet bare and weirdly sexy-looking. I shift my eyes quickly away from them and back to my drawing, thinking about all the nights we’ve spent together in hotel rooms now.

The first day, I slept like a rock with Cali’s shoulder warm against mine. The second morning when we stopped, Cali dumped her bag in my room and we talked for half the day before she went to sleep. I laid awake for the rest of it, too aware of her in the bed across the room to even close my eyes. The third day, Cali found
Super Troopers
on HBO and Matt and Caroline came over and we’d all seen it so many times that we were laughing before the punch lines of every joke until we could barely hear the movie. Matt and Cali threatened to go out and get maple syrup for a chugging contest, but Caroline forbid it.

A smile lifts the corner of my mouth at the memory. Being on the run would almost be fun, if the Augustines weren’t so close behind us.

Yesterday, there was a guy at the truck stop watching for us, and he ducked conspicuously into a corner with a cell phone as soon as he saw our cars. We flipped a U-turn and followed back roads out of town, but Damon got really moody after that. I can tell he thought we would have given them the slip by now.

Damon keeps walking off to make these phone calls and I have no idea who he’s calling. I’m hoping it is someone who can help us disappear for long enough so we can stop running and start chasing our enemies instead.

I glance at Cali but she’s lost in her own thoughts. I hope she’s not worrying about the Augustines. I slip a finger under her hand and tickle her palm to get her attention. Her hand snaps closed like a trap, catching mine and sending a jolt through my whole body that wasn’t quite surprise.

She gives me a sidelong smile and playfully narrowed eyes, and I wince and pretend like she’s crushing my fingers. She squeezes harder and I waggle my drawing just out of her reach, to draw her attention away. She nibbles her lip, debating, and I grin as she lets my hand go and snatches up the drawing instead.

We don’t talk much in the car: it’s too awkward with Elena and Damon hearing everything we say. But it also means after too many nights of sharing the dark, quiet backseat of the Camaro, we are getting pretty good at charades.

I click off my flashlight and toss it up in the air, catching it with a grin as she reaches for it and I hold it away. She glares at me, plucking my borrowed ear bud out so the music fades. I give her a wide-eyed, crestfallen expression, and she crosses her arms and shakes her head in stubborn denial of my silent protest.

I drop the flashlight into my other palm and offer it to her but when she reaches out I hold it tauntingly high. She grabs my wrist, her small fingers not even fitting all the way around it as she tries to wrestle my arm back down.

“Jesus, just fuck already,” Damon groans from the driver’s seat, not turning around. My grip loosens in surprise and Cali works the flashlight out of my hand with a triumphant squeak.

Elena stops toying with his hair and gives him a dirty look and Cali snorts, sticking her tongue out at the back of Damon’s head. She seems unconcerned but I’m intensely glad it’s too dark for her to see how badly I’m blushing right now.

By the fourth day in a hotel room, her clingy pajamas were driving me out of my mind. I risked trying to take care of myself in the shower while she listened to her iPod, lying on the bed less than ten feet away and separated only by a very thin wall.

Big mistake.

Something about her being so close made everything about it feel better and when I finished, I nearly bit through my tongue trying not to make a sound. I told myself it wouldn’t happen again, but now it’s been three nights running and it’s like I can’t be in a hotel room with her for thirty seconds before my body responds and so I either spend all night hugging a pillow, or it’s straight to the shower with me. The worst part is, I think I’m getting some kind of weird fetish, because it gets me crazy turned on knowing she’s on the other side of the door from me.

Since we started driving tonight, I’ve sketched my way through half the pages in this notebook trying not to think about it.

And
damn
, now I’m thinking about it again.

Cali clicks on the flashlight and I flinch at the sudden brightness, slouching forward and bracing my arms against my legs in the best cover I’ve got for the bulge under the fly of my pants.

She claps a hand over her mouth, shaking with silent laughter when she sees my caricature of Katherine running after Matt, reaching for his crotch with one hand while she tears her shirt off with the other. I smile shyly as I watch Cali’s eyes take in the whole drawing, wishing I was a better artist so I could capture Matt’s exact mix of embarrassment, discomfort and poorly hidden arousal.

It makes me glad I don’t have to ride in the truck with them all day, because Matt obviously thinks Katherine’s hot and he’s even more obviously never going to do anything about it. I can’t even tell if Katherine really wants to sleep with him, or if she is just stirring up trouble as usual.

Cali holds out her hand, eyes sparkling with amusement, and I hand over the pencil. She poises it above the paper, cocking a quick eyebrow in my direction and I wave my hand to show her it’s no big deal if she wants to add to the sketch.

I take the flashlight and hold it for her while she starts to draw, her smile smoothing as she concentrates. My eyes flicker to her mouth without meaning to because she is sexy as hell when she’s unaware like this, her lips soft and full and that slim silver ring resting against her lower lip like it’s begging me to play with it.

I’ve got to kiss her soon or I’m going to lose my mind.

I can’t do it in the car, but now that she’s staying in my hotel room every day, it doesn’t seem right to do it there either. There’s usually no couch and so we’d be on the bed right away and it just seems like it’s assuming too much, or too tempting, or something. I mean, once I touch her, how the hell am I supposed to stop kissing her and just get ready for bed and climb under the covers two feet away?

She giggles at whatever she’s drawing, glancing up to check my reaction, and freezes when she catches me staring at her. I blink and jerk my eyes back down to the paper and she shifts, pressing her knees together and tugging restlessly at the hem of her tank top. I squint at what she’s drawn, tilting my head. It looks like a jock strap on the outside of Matt’s pants, holding a tube that’s…is that bear mace?