Toxic (4 page)

He lifted my chin. “You changed your hair too.”

“I cut it.”

After I broke up with Dawson I needed a change, so I cut my long tresses to just above my shoulders and darkened them a bit at the same time. My once long, wavy, golden blond hair was shorter, darker, and straighter.

My mother hated it. She said it looked like a bob and she detested bobs. I happened to love it. The whole change made me feel lighter, freer.

Lars tugged on the ends of my hair. “You changed the color too. It looks sultry.” He licked his lips. “You look sexy as fuck.”

I jerked my head back and just stared at him. Unsure where he was going with this and not really caring, I just wanted to escape his scrutiny.

“You’ve put some weight on too. Not so skinny anymore.”

I shrugged. I couldn’t control my weight. If I lost my appetite for even a day, I looked unhealthily skinny. Everyone thought it was great to have such a high metabolism. But it wasn’t. I had to work at maintaining a healthy weight or my frame looked boylike.

“Has Dawson seen you yet?”

Disbelief clouded my narrowing eyes at the nerve of him. Like my ex-fiancé seeing me looking different would change anything about our relationship?

My vision began to blur at that point and I knew I had had way too much to drink.

Lars’ mouth was at my ear before I could move away. “Your outfit makes it look like you have curves in all the right places though, don’t worry.”

I thought I might vomit.

Was he for real?

Words flew out of my mouth at lightning speed. “You’re such a dick. Go find some other woman to harass who’s into your kind of foreplay.”

An evil grin formed on his lips. “A dirty mouth too, just the way I like them.”

“You like them any way you can get them,” I spat back.

Bile rose in my throat and I wasn’t sure if it was his attention or the alcohol causing the sick feeling.

“Feisty.” He grinned. “What was Dawson thinking letting you go? I bet you’re an animal in the sack.”

“Get lost,” I told him and turned to walk away.

He grabbed my wrist. “Now that you’re all worked up, what do you say we get out of here? I won’t tell Dawson.”

I tried to free myself of his grip but he wouldn’t let go.

Someone stepped between us. The distressed leather was the first thing my eyes were focused on when my skin started to tingle with a sense of familiarity. The tingling quickly turned into trembling as my gaze lifted and I saw the bluest of blue eyes.

They were soft, concerned, knowing.

They were the eyes of my past.

It was
him
.

I was surprised.

I was shocked.

I was mesmerized.

My body started to tremble even more and I downed the glass of wine I had been holding to help calm my nerves.

Still, I couldn’t stop staring. He looked the same. No, he looked better, if that was possible. His hair was shorter but his devastating good looks were even more striking.

This time I knew he was real—he wasn’t a figment of my imagination. Just that one look into his eyes and all the hurt was forgotten. It was as if the last five years had never happened.

I lost myself in his eyes and I couldn’t stop myself from going back to when we’d first met.

It was the day I came alive.

Just Kiss Me

June 2009

It was my twenty-first birthday.

Under the warm night sky, I watched as guests in black tie and fancy dresses pulled up to the country club.

Most of the invited guests were decades older than I.

But I’d expected that.

I said hello and smiled like I knew I should.

I was a St. Claire after all.

Once everyone had arrived, my mother looked over at me. “Come on. Let’s go in.”

Together with my mother and father, I entered the large white tent filled with gorgeous flowers that scented the air. My father grabbed two flutes of champagne from a tray and handed one to me and one to my mother. I smiled at him and they looked around. They had gone all out this year. Waiters carried trays of caviar, smoked salmon, and other various delicacies. There was a sushi bar at one end and a cake the size of one of the tables at the other.

My friends were sitting together at a table and I made my way over to them. For the next few hours we talked. And drank. And then danced.

At midnight my parents joined hands and made a toast—they were such a united front.

“You’ll always be our little girl no matter how old you are,” they both said.

The toast went on and on about how special I was and how bright my future looked. They had it all mapped out. I couldn’t help but cry. However, I wasn’t sure if I was crying over their words or about their words.

I felt like I was suffocating.

What they wished for me wasn’t how I saw my future. The problem was, at twenty-one, I didn’t know what I was going to do.

Forced to always do what they wanted, I began to wonder if even with a college degree and a trust fund, that would ever change. Feeling a bit drunk and overwhelmed with so many and so few choices at the same time, I needed some time alone and snuck off toward the beach path.

I ran toward the ocean and twirled in the sand as the wind blew around me. Once I started to feel dizzy from twirling, I still wasn’t ready to head back to the party, so I took the path that would lead me to the large Olympic-sized pool. I tugged my sandals off with thoughts of putting my feet in the water to rinse the mud and sand away. As I approached the pool, I noticed how it glowed like it was lit by small pale fires. Lost in the enchantment of it, the sudden movement beneath the surface startled me.

A fair-haired boy emerged from the water. He pulled himself up and out so quickly that I was momentarily stunned.

He drank me in with his eyes.

The way he looked at me made me shiver. No one had ever looked at me like that before.

I found myself gazing into his intense eyes.

He was utterly beautiful. His bare chest was sculpted but not overly bulky like Danny or Jamie. They worked out every day pumping obnoxious amounts of iron to look the way they did. In contrast, the boy standing before me had a swimmer’s build—long and lean and breathtaking.

He stood stoicly and a cautious look crossed his face. That long and lean body was in a pair of bright green neon swim trunks.

Right away I could tell he didn’t care what anyone thought about him.

I loved the idea of that.

So I smiled at him.

He shook his head and his hair fell into his eyes.

I wanted to reach out and push it away. It wasn’t long, but it wasn’t short. It was perfect.

“Hey,” he said, grabbing a towel off the ground.

It didn’t belong to the club. It was small, beige, and a bit worn—not the large hunter-green fluffy ones monogrammed in white I’d always gotten when I used to come here to swim as a kid.

“Hey,” I said back, swinging my sandals nervously.

He grabbed a pair of jeans that lay next to where the towel had been and walked right by me.

I turned to watch him as he strode into one of the cabanas and dropped his trunks. I froze and squeezed my eyes shut, thinking I shouldn’t be watching him but then opened them quickly when I couldn’t resist maybe catching a glimpse.

“Didn’t your parents ever tell you it isn’t polite to stare?” His voice was low and sexy, and it tugged me out of my own head.

I put my hands on my hips. “Didn’t your parents ever teach you not to undress in mixed company?”

He pulled his jeans on and laughed. “My mother might have mentioned that once or twice but I’ve never been good at following the rules.”

And it didn’t escape my notice that he didn’t put any underwear on first.

Hot. Totally and completely hot.

I didn’t see anything I shouldn’t have seen, it was too dark, but something inside me electrified at the thought of seeing him naked and I stepped closer. That’s when I noticed the scuffed-up black work boots on one of the lounges with a T-shirt thrown next to them.

I raised a brow. “Is this your changing room?”

He laughed again but this time added a smile and put his hands up. “Okay, you caught me. I better get out of here before anyone else does.”

He was adorable and charming and my heart skipped a beat or two.

Then I stepped even closer and entered the cabana entrance, effectively blocking his way. “Why? You’re not doing anything wrong.”

He shrugged but he didn’t try to move around me. “I usually swim in the ocean but when the water is too rough, like tonight, I come here.”

I bit my lip in contemplation before speaking. “Does it really matter if you get caught?”

He crossed his arms over his bare chest. “Let’s say it’s not just the swimming. It’s more that I’ve been caught doing a few too many things that I shouldn’t have been doing in the past.”

A bad boy.

The thought made my pulse thunder. “So you’re not a member at this club?”

He cleared his throat and shifted from foot to foot. “No,” he laughed but his laugh was anything but genuine. “Are you?”

I hesitated as I considered my answer. “No, I was just walking the beach and wanted to rinse my feet. I’m Phoebe,” I said, extending my hand. Technically, I wasn’t lying. I wasn’t a member, my parents were. I hadn’t even been here in years. And I was out for a walk.

Amusement danced in his blue eyes. “Jeremy,” he said back.

When I chewed on my lower lip, I noticed how his eyes focused on it.

Mine focused on the entirety of his mouth—his strong, firm jaw, his sensuous lips, and his tongue that had snuck out to lick his lips.

I felt compelled to speak but wouldn’t have minded if all we had done was stare. “Is this your first summer in the Hamptons?” I asked because I’d never seen him before.

He shook his head. “I’ve been coming here ever since I was born. My mother is a caterer in the city. She moves her business here every summer.” He bobbed his head toward the main building. “She works out of the club.”

I twisted the butterfly ring I always wore on my right hand. “And your dad?”

He flinched. “He went away a long time ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “Don’t be.”

I knew I had to change the subject or he’d leave. “So tell me, what do you do during the day that you have to swim at night?”

A breeze flapped the canvas and he looked around before he answered. “Odds and ends type jobs. I’ve been working here since I was fourteen. Management lets me use the pool at night unless there’s an event going on like tonight.”

I gave him a questioning look.

“Don’t want to disturb the paying guests, you know.”

I rolled my eyes. “The party isn’t even taking place over here.”

“But tonight it’s the almighty St. Claires and we wouldn’t want to ruffle Chandler’s feathers. Bad things happen to those that do.”

I was momentarily stunned at the way he spoke about my family and my father. “What . . . what do you mean?” I couldn’t help the way it came out.

He shrugged. “Nothing. Just a generality about blue bloods. Never mind.”

“No really, what do you mean? I’m curious.”

He hesitated before he spoke. “I’m one of his victims.”

I started to get nervous. What did he mean?

He shoved his hands in his pockets, and then smirked. “I might have taken his car for a joyride last summer when I was a valet.”

The face he made was full of mischief—it was adorable actually—but my mouth still dropped. My father probably loved only my mother and me more than his bright red vintage Ferrari. It was his baby. “What happened when he found out?”

“Let’s just say it wasn’t pretty. He was irate and wanted me gone. I would have been fired if it weren’t for my mother’s intervention. But I’ve been banned from being anywhere near the guests. This summer I get to clean the pool, wash the dishes, stock the bar, you know, like I said, odds and ends.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

Jeremy grinned again and with a shrug said, “I need the money, so I’ll do what I have to do.” And then he winked at me. “And I’m trying to stay clear of trouble.”

My cheeks blazed and I dropped my stare. I was looking down at his bare toes, and I even found those sexy.

He must have known I was staring at his feet because he cleared his throat.

But I didn’t care.

I lifted my gaze and coyly said, “I thought you didn’t follow the rules.”

He smiled a big, wide sexy grin that made my stomach flutter. “I don’t make a habit of it. But seriously, my manager here is friends with the manager of Southe Pointe and he’s arranged for me to get an interview there.”

“Why do you want to work there?” I was curious. He seemed to know what he wanted. Whereas me, I had no clue.

He picked up his boots and dropped them to the ground, shoving his feet in them. “I want to open my own nightclub and working there will be great experience.”

“You do?”

He gave me a slight nod and pulled a pack of cigarettes from his jeans pocket. “Yeah, someday. But not here. I’m thinking Miami.”

I sat down on the lounge chair, interested in hearing more. “Why Miami?”

With an unlit cigarette dangling from his mouth, he took a seat in the chair next to mine. “My grandmother lives there and my mother and I have spent every Christmas there. I love the beach. And I think it would be a great place to open a club like the one here. What about you?”

I pointed to his mouth. “You can light that, it doesn’t bother me.”

He flashed me a heated grin. “I’m trying to quit. It’s a slow, hard process but I’m almost there.”

Something about his tone had my insides melting.

He tucked the cigarette behind his ear. “You didn’t answer my question.”

I laughed, not genuinely at all. “I know. My answer isn’t so clear cut. I graduated from college last month and still have no idea what I want to do. I’m thinking about moving to Chicago or LA, but my father wants me to go to grad school in the city. I haven’t decided yet.”

His thoughts seemed to wander for a few short moments but then he pulled himself out of wherever he’d gone. “Why Chicago or LA?”

“I think it will be easy to get a job in either of those places.”

“Did you apply to grad schools yet?”

“Yes, Stern, but I don’t really want to stay in the city.”

He leaned back in his chair. “You don’t like the city?”

I pulled my knees close to me. “I love it. I just want to get away from my parents.”

“Ahhh . . . got you. Looks like we’re both stuck in limbo.”

I laughed again. “I don’t think you are.”

He sighed. “I graduated from NYU last month thinking I would be starting graduate school at Stanford in the fall. They have the best Entertainment Management program in the country. I thought I was a shoo-in for one of their scholarships, but it never came through and I didn’t apply anywhere else, so I have to decide if I should go elsewhere or just get out there and start my life.”

The passion in his voice made me envious and I tried to think what I was passionate about. When I couldn’t come up with anything, I refocused on him. “Well, working at Southe Pointe seems like a great start.”

“Yeah, right now that’s my only choice.”

I could tell his limitations irritated him. “You could take out student loans. Couldn’t you?”

He thrust a hand through his hair. “I’d rather not. Why don’t you want to go to grad school?”

That was a good question. I shrugged. “Because my father wants me to.”

He eyed me. “If that’s the only reason, maybe you should go. The job market out there is tough and the more you have to offer, the better the job you’ll get.”

“Yes, you’re right. I just don’t know if it’s right for me.”

He seemed genuinely annoyed with me. “Well. I guess you’ll make the right choice. I gotta go. Can I walk you somewhere?”

I didn’t want him to go.

He stood and extended his hand. “You shouldn’t be out here wandering around alone.”

I took his hand and rose to my feet. Electricity zapped through me as I did and I shivered under the intensity of his gaze. “Why?”

He must have felt it too because he dropped his hold on me and started gathering the things he had piled all together on a lounge. “You never know what kind of trouble you might run into.”

“Maybe I like trouble.” I knew I was flirting but I couldn’t help myself.

It was so unlike me.

That earned me a glance—amusement once again danced in his eyes.

I stepped closer to stop him. I had an urge to kiss him but I held back and watched the water drip down from his hair to his smooth chest. I wanted to lick it off but bit my lip harder to resist that urge as well.

He tilted his head. “There’s something different about you.”

“What do you mean?” My voice was breathy but I couldn’t help it. He was so close. He smelled like chlorine and something unidentifiable. For some reason I felt incredibly turned on by the scent.

He shrugged. “You don’t look right through me like most of the people I’ve met here.”

His words made my heart ache. I knew what he was talking about. I’d even seen my friends do it—treat those who should have been peers, like they were beneath them.

Before I could find the right words, he spoke again. “So tell me, what brings you here this summer?”

Voices drew our attention over my shoulder and I lost my opportunity to tell him the truth—that I too had been coming here since I was born.