Winter (Four Seasons #1) (12 page)

“
Why?”

“
Because I
don’t have a choice but to kiss you now and I was going to wait at
least two more days.”

I lean into
his chest, my chin resting against it, and look up so that his jaw
line blocks my vision. Embarrassment takes over and I bury my face
into his shirt. He smells of a bright, sharp cologne. I let my
hands drop so that they come into contact with his skin at the back
of his neck and he tenses. I trace my fingers lightly down to the
collar of his shirt, and then back up again, wondering when I
became the type of person to make the first move. Noah groans a
little and his hands work their way up my body. They stop at my
neck, and he cups my face, gently lifting it so I can’t hide
anymore. I hold my breath, waiting. My eyes are closed when he
tilts my head back and I feel the explosive heat of his lips
against my neck, just below my ear. I suck in a deep breath, my
eyes snapping open.

Noah starts
walking, guiding me backwards, and I’m too stunned to protest. The
edge of my bed presses against the backs of my legs and I get that
weightless sensation of panic in my stomach. It always comes with
falling, even though I know it’s only a short distance. I topple
back and Noah’s hands are on me instantly, stroking his thumbs
across my neck and a small part of my exposed collarbone. He
fumbles for a second, trying to undo the buttons on my coat, but
then he freezes.

“
Is this…is
this okay?” he pants. But it’s not his voice I hear; it’s someone
else’s entirely. My dream washes over me like a tidal wave and Luke
Reid is the one asking questions. Luke Reid’s body pressing down on
top of mine. Luke Reid tearing at my clothes.

I lay on my
back, eyes closed, shocked by how badly I want him to take off my
coat and everything else I’m wearing. My silent nod is all he
needs. He rips at my coat when he can’t get it off and one of the
big wooden buttons shoots across the room.

“
Ah shit,
sorry!”

I lace my
fingers behind his head and pull him down, not caring about the
stupid button or the fact that I’m tearing at
his
jacket like an animal. He unzips
it and shucks it off, throwing it on the floor behind him. When his
weight presses down on top of me, I can’t take it anymore and I
arch my back, pushing up to kiss him. He meets me halfway and his
lips crush against mine, forcing my mouth open. His tongue is hot,
sliding over my teeth, exploring my mouth.

My breathing’s
out of control—way too quick, ragged. Luke groans again and presses
down, spreading my legs so that he’s suddenly between them. I hitch
my knees up, pressing them against his hips and his hand reaches
back and lifts under my thigh so that it’s wrapped around him. I
follow suit with the other leg and lock them around his back. My
head’s spinning. I gasp in a deep lungful of air. God, I really
need to breathe. My chest feels ridiculously tight and my heart is
pounding. My concentration slips and my heart rate
triples.

Shit!
I’m not with Luke. I’m with Noah.
Noah
. Why is my body, my
mind doing this to me? I should be fantasizing about the boy
currently pressing up between my thighs, and yet I’m not. Why the
hell is
he
waiting
there for me, drawing me away from the heated moment, when I should
be present in the here and now with Noah? My whole body goes rigid
when he presses forward and I can suddenly feel how badly he wants
me, digging into the most sensitive of places.

I freeze and
make a strangled gasp at the back of my throat. The noise doesn’t
sound like a moan of pleasure. It sounds like I’m freaking the fuck
out. Which I am. Noah hears my panic, has to, because he instantly
stops moving, pulling back. He looks momentarily frustrated before
he gives me a shaky smile and drops a little to kiss me again, his
lips much softer this time.

“
Woman, you
near attacked me,” he murmurs into my hair, sending chills through
my body. I shudder and wriggle out from underneath him,
straightening out my shirt.

“
I did
not!”

“
Did so.” That
wicked smirk makes an appearance again. “It’s okay. I liked it.
Feel free to do it again whenever.”

My cheeks are
red hot and my skin is on fire, especially in the throbbing area
between my legs where he was just rubbing up against me. I push
down the overwhelming urge to run to the bathroom and wash my
hands, my face, the back of my neck. Instead, I lower myself to the
ground and scrabble around under the bed to find the button that
flew off my coat. Noah’s leaning back against my pillows when I
stand up, watching me. He has something in his hand.

“
I totally
didn’t mean to but I just read this by accident. It was on your
pillow.” He hands over a sheet of paper covered in Leslie’s loopy
handwriting, and a small orange envelope with an underlined A on
it. I read Leslie’s note first.

Roomie,

That guy from
last month came by to see you this morning. He looked tired as
hell. I’d still date him, though. Maybe you could tell him that if
you see him again. I need an older guy in my life. Anyway, he
practically begged me to give you this. He made me promise not to
read it, said something about mail fraud being a federal offence
(who is this guy???)

Anyway, I’m
staying in the city tonight with my sister but I’ll be back
tomorrow. See you soon,

Leslie
xoxo

Noah watches
me read the note with a curious look on his face. He throws a
balled up strip of paper at me, and I smile.

“
Sorry,
that’s…it’s nothing. Just an old friend from back home.”
The same one we saw at O’Flanagan’s. The one
doing his damnedest to sabotage my love life, even if it is all in
my head.

Noah nods and
scoots off the bed. “You don’t need to explain anything to me,
Avery. It’s none of my business.”

“
I know, I
just…” I trail off. It’s probably better if I just stop
talking.

“
Would you
like it to be my business?”

I tap the
corner of the envelop against my palm, knowing what it will say
inside. An apology, probably. For Casey. For basically telling her
my new name now. Luke hasn’t texted me since the other night but
I’ve hardly had my phone switched on. Maybe he has tried to call.
There has to be a reason why he’s written me an actual letter. Why
do I feel so conflicted whenever I think about him? Especially
after the hottest make out session of my life with another guy.
Another really hot guy who’s basically asking if I want him to be a
part of my life.

“
I think so. I
think that would be…”

Noah leans
forward and kisses me. It’s soft and slow, and has me melting all
over again. He eventually pulls back and strokes down the side of
my face. “I’d like for you to be my business. I know I’m going off
to Africa in less than a month and then I’ll only be here for a
semester after, but we can think about that later. For now, what do
you say we just get to know one another and figure out the
basics?”

I open the
drawer on my nightstand, slipping Luke’s envelope inside. “That
sounds perfect.” I really like Noah, sure, but the likelihood of us
getting serious in just over four months together is almost
non-existent. I won’t have to explain anything I don’t want to, and
it would be nice to have someone to take my mind off things. He’s
funny and cute, and he makes me feel like a normal human being.
That’s an incredibly valuable ability these days.

I kiss him
again and pull him up off my bed. He takes my hand and bites down
gently on one of my fingers. “So…am I allowed to say
it?”

“
Say
what?”

“
Well, the
note, it says…” He raises his eyebrows, as if waiting for me to
catch on.

I let out a
deep sigh and glare down at the piece of paper. “I mean it, Luke
really is just an old friend. He’s a pol—” Noah puts his finger
over my lips.

“
That’s not
what I meant. I was referring to the last bit. Your roommate’s
gonna be in the city tonight. That means you’ll be…alone?” There’s
a question in the way he says that, like I don’t have to be if I
don’t want to. I pull on my pea coat, now minus a button, and punch
him lightly on his arm.

“
Not yet, Noah
Richards.”

Ten

Icarus

Morgan: Where
are you? Come party with me!

THE text
arrives just as I’m about to take a shower before bed. It’s way too
late to be going partying with Morgan, but the woman doesn’t seem
to have any sense of timing.

Me: Are you
lit, Morgan Kepler?

Morgan: Like
a house on fire!

I laugh, but
then turn my phone off. She’ll be texting me all night otherwise.
It’s when I’m brushing my teeth that I remember Luke’s envelope. I
half consider just tossing it straight into the trash, but I’m not
brave enough to do something like that. It’s rude. Even if I do
want to ignore Luke, the manners Dad instilled me with refuse to
let me be that brash. I get into bed at eleven thirty and retrieve
the letter from my nightstand. When I open it, I’m a little taken
aback. It’s not an apology. Not even close. It’s a single white
piece of paper with four symbols drawn onto it.

Any of these
symbols mean anything to you?

I immediately
recognize one of them. The one that looks like a number eight on
its side is fairly common. It’s the symbol for eternity. I scan
over the other markings, trying to think back. Are any of them
familiar? I can’t be sure. I don’t think so. I flip over the piece
of paper to see if Luke has explained anything on the reverse, but
it’s blank. I sit up in bed and stare at the symbols for another
five long minutes. Why is Luke asking about them? And why is he not
explaining himself? The endlessly curious part of me wants,
no,
needs
to
know.

Is that why he
did it? To make me call? I shove the thought aside and slip the
envelope back into the draw. After a few minutes spent arguing
internally with myself, I take out my cell phone and bring up
Luke’s number. I refuse to call. No, after the other night outside
his apartment, the vile look on Casey’s face, the horror on his? I
can’t bear the thought of hearing his voice. I go with a text
message instead.

Me:
Why?

I hit send
before I can chicken out and tuck my cell under my pillow, trying
to put it all out of my head. It buzzes a couple of minutes
later.

Luke: It’s
important.

Me: That’s
not an answer.

Luke: It’s
related to the Wyoming Ripper. I still have a friend back at Break
PD. They did me a favor. I’m looking into a couple of
things.

I have no idea
what Luke is doing snooping into the Wyoming Ripper case, but it
can only mean one thing: trouble.

Me: You have
the file? Can you get it?

I wait, wide
awake, for at least half an hour before I get a reply.

Luke: I’m at
work right now. I finish at 8am. I’ll call you then.

I don’t bother
replying. What’s the point? He’s going to call regardless, and I
really want to know if he has that file. There has to be evidence
in there that my dad is innocent. There certainly isn’t going to be
any evidence to prove his guilt, of that much I’m certain. If Luke
has it…if he has that file, I
am
going to see it. I am going to tear it apart until
I find a way to prove my father didn’t kill all those
girls.

******

“
What are you
up to, Monster?” I’m eight years old, diving in our indoor swimming
pool for the seashells my father tossed into the shallow end for
me.

“
I’m a
mermaid, Daddy!”

“
Of course
you are, Monster.”