Come to Me Recklessly (11 page)

“What are you doing here?” I whispered through a hiss at my front door, wanting to throw my arms around him but knowing I had to tell him to go.

He wasn’t supposed to be here.

And he already knew that.

But here he was, standing in my doorway, wearing tight jeans and a fitted tee, every piece of his outfit just as black and disheveled as his hair, which stood out in shock against the canvas of sun that glowed behind his head. Emerald eyes gleamed back at me, a sparkle of mischief that was rooted in a chin set in firm determination. “I wanted to see you.”

Nerves spiraled through my body, and I cast my eyes over my shoulder to where Stewart was occupied on the couch, playing a video game. Our house was supersimple and plain. The big family room behind me was where we hung out most of the time, and the kitchen was separated from it by a wall and a swinging door. Off to the right ran a long hallway leading to four small bedrooms, and off to the left of the main rooms was my parents’ bedroom.

Five minutes ago, I’d walked out of the kitchen, where I’d been doing my homework and my mom was preparing dinner. I crossed my fingers she was still in there and hadn’t heard the doorbell ring.

I turned back to Christopher. “You know you can’t be here. Are you trying to get me in trouble?”

It seemed he was always trying to get me in trouble. In the three weeks since he’d become my
boyfriend
, I’d broken more rules than I’d broken in my entire life before then.

Rule number one – having a boyfriend at all. The fallout came with everything that went along with that, like kissing and touching and sneaking out my window almost every night so we could do some more of that kissing and touching.

Come to find out, I liked all of that kissing and touching way more than I should.

Just the word
boyfriend
sent chills flying across my skin. I still couldn’t believe he was mine. That he wanted me. He was so beautiful in that
Oh man, this guy is trouble
kind of way, his face so handsome it almost hurt, the man so pretty it almost conflicted with the cockiness he wore around like a crested chip on his shoulder.

But it wasn’t hard to see he went deeper than all of that. Underneath his rough exterior, he was caring and kind. Vulnerable. Sweet.

Christopher Moore was his own brand… the kind I was pretty sure I wanted to wear forever.

Being with him? I’d never felt so alive. So free. Apparently I’d happily take any trouble he brought my way if it meant I got to be in his space.

He dragged a hand through the messy locks of his hair, dropped his gaze before he looked back at me. “Of course not. I never want to hurt you,” he said, his voice taking on an edge of desperation. “I just can’t stand hiding us anymore. I want to meet your parents. Tell them how much I like you and want to be with you.”

Quiet, humorless laughter rolled from me. “That’s exactly what will scare them.”

“Who’s here?” My mother’s voice crawled over me from behind, and that flash of chills that thinking of Christopher had brought to my flesh rose in alarm.

I shot a pleading glance at Christopher before I stepped back and opened the door a little farther, turning just in time to watch my mom’s expression darken in suspicion. “Mom, this is my friend Christopher Moore.”

I for sure left off the
boy
part, because that kind of introduction wouldn’t go over so well.

As if he’d been invited, Christopher stepped into my house and put his hand out in front of him. For a moment, my mom just looked at it, calculating, her eyes slanting to me before they slipped back to him.

Finally she took his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Christopher.”

Christopher smiled his wicked smile. I cringed, because I was pretty sure my mom wouldn’t like it nearly as much as I did. “Nice to meet you, too, Mrs. Schultz.”

Stewart’s attention was drawn away from his video game, and he set his controller aside and climbed down from the couch. “Hi… you want to play with me? I just got a new game. It’s awesome,” he shouted with a little bounce on his toes.

This was about the most excitement we’d seen out of Stewart in months, pretty much since he’d gotten sick at the end of school last year.

Christopher looked at the paused game frozen on the television. “No way, dude. You’re playing
Lego Star Wars
? That is just about my favorite game in history.”

Stewart beamed up at him. “Mine, too!”

No question, Christopher had done it for his benefit, playing it up to bring out that smile on Stewart’s face. One I would do just about anything to see there.

With Christopher’s simple gesture, I melted a little, that flame that he ignited in me setting fire to another place inside that he hadn’t touched before.

Stewart’s tenth birthday had just passed a week before, though there hadn’t been a whole lot of celebrating. All of it had been spent with him in the bathroom, sick and sad and crying and not understanding why he had to hurt so bad. Seeing him smiling like this now made my heart want to burst.

“So you’ll play?” Stewart asked, tugging at Christopher’s hand, excited to have someone to play with who might be better than those of us in his family.

“If it’s okay with your mom.”

Everyone turned to her, waiting for her reaction. She hesitated, twisting her hands in worried contemplation. A soft warning glowed in her eyes when she leveled them on Christopher. “Of course you can stay. Just not too long. We’ll be having supper in an hour.”

Christopher flashed that smile again. “I’ll be sure to be out of your hair by then, Mrs. Schultz.”

My mom and dad were
good
. And I understood all their reservations. I knew they only wanted what was best for me – what was best for my brothers and my sister. But sometimes that concern showed itself with an oppressive force, one that fought to keep us small and sheltered, secluded from the evils of the rest of the world.

I sat down with a two-foot space between Christopher and me on the couch and watched him interact with my brother, listened to his patience and his calm, the carefree way he teased and played, making my brother howl with laughter. Christopher told him stories about video games he’d played, and they shared their favorites, which were so much the same, Christopher shining all this light as he made my little brother feel just as big and important as a man.

As I watched, I realized there was no evil in Christopher Moore.

And if there was, I wanted to be infected with it.

At just after ten, I heard a light tapping at my window.

I was ready and waiting. By now I’d become a pro at gliding my window open without making a sound. I crawled out and hopped onto the ground. Christopher was right there to catch me.

Big, warm hands slipped around my sides to my back, and he brought me flush to his body. In the same second, his mouth descended on mine, gentle yet firm and enough to make my breath hitch.

A thrill buzzed through every single one of my senses.

There was no experience as blissful as kissing Christopher. Sure, he was the only boy I’d ever kissed, but I didn’t need anything to compare it to.

It was pure ecstasy.

With a grin, he pulled back, set his hand on my cheek, and ran his thumb along my jaw, which didn’t do anything to quiet my excited nerves. His voice was low. “Let’s get out of here. I want to show you something.”

There was no hesitation when he took my hand. On light feet, we raced across my yard, trying to contain the laughter that bubbled in our bellies as we stole through the quiet of the slumbering night. Little sparks pricked all over my body, the charge of this adventure filling me with adrenaline, all of it spilling over into my stomach, where a riot of butterflies flapped their chaotic wings.

Christopher made me feel like I could fly.

When we got out of the confines of my neighborhood, Christopher tugged me forward and I found that spot at his side that I loved, and I curled into it, his arm wrapped protectively around my shoulder and holding me tight.

I grinned up at him, not really caring where we were going, because I’d follow him anywhere.

We headed in the direction of his neighborhood, cutting between two houses. He pulled me toward a rickety wooden fence. A thin plank had been torn away from it, the remaining portions splintered and sharp. He dipped down and crawled through the hole, never letting go of my hand as he did. On the other side, he squatted low, and his green eyes coaxed me to follow. “Be careful or you’ll snag your shirt.”

Cautious not to touch the jagged edge of the wood, I wedged myself through the tiny gateway leading into the unknown. I stood beside Christopher, squinting into the muted darkness of the half-moon sky.

“What is this place?”

Subdued light crept over the empty field, the expanse of it overrun with tall, grassy weeds. Five big trees grew up randomly throughout the lot, the wooden fence we’d just crawled through serving as its border on three sides, rising to back the yards of the houses in the adjacent neighborhoods. The fourth side was the main road that ran along Christopher’s neighborhood, boxing in this quiet space.

He lifted a single shoulder as if it didn’t really matter, but something significant flashed across his face. “It’s nothin’ really… but when we were little, Jared and I used to tear this lot up… playing, digging, throwing shit around.” Quiet laughter seeped into the night. “My little sister, Aly, would always follow us out here. This was our place. Hardly ever come out here anymore… I don’t know… I miss it and I just wanted to bring you here.”

He led me across the lot, traipsing through the overgrown wild grasses and to the bottom of a tree. Up above was a tree house of sorts, although it was crude and without walls or windows, just a platform that had been hammered into the large branches that spread out from the trunk.

Christopher got behind me. “Up you go.”

“Are you crazy?”

He cocked a flirty brow. “I think we already established that.”

Laughing, I began the climb, digging the toes of my tennis shoes into the little pieces of wood nailed to the trunk. Christopher’s hands wandered all over me as he stood guard in case I fell, probably taking advantage of the situation. Not that I minded all that much.

I sat down on the wooden floor and he hoisted himself up after me. He laid his long, lean body out across the floor, resting his back on a branch. He reached for me. “Come here… You’re too far away.”

On a sigh, I curled into the comfort of his arms, my ear pressed to his chest, where his heart beat hard and fast, like it spoke a different language than the normal arrogance he always exuded, his words sharp and fast and quick-witted when his blood pulsed with his own insecurities.

“I like you when we get to be together like this,” I whispered.

He hugged me closer and brushed a kiss at my temple. “I like you always.”

I’d been to Christopher’s house several times, another rule broken, of course, as I’d gone there when I told my mom I was studying at a friend’s.

I’d met his mom and dad, Karen and Dave, as well as his sister, Aly, and his little brother, Augustyn. It hadn’t taken a whole lot to get me to fall in love with each of them, the feel of their house so much different than mine. The Moores’ place was much more casual, as if he could waltz right into his house with me in tow and his mom didn’t give much thought other than to welcome me in with a soft twinkle in her eye.

The first time I’d gone, she’d shot Christopher a telling look, one that warned him to be careful with me. It was something that had made me warm to her instantly, and I always looked forward to the times when I could sneak over there and spend time with them all.

But my favorite times were when Christopher and I could be together alone, when there was no one else watching us, when we could just be.

I lifted so I could look at him and show him a smile. He was quick to lean forward and grab a kiss.

Remorse shifted his expression. “I’m sorry for just showing up at your house today.” He grazed the back of his hand along my jaw. “That was impulsive and selfish. I shouldn’t have done that to you without a warning. Although I have to say I’m having a really hard time regretting it. Your little brother…” He swallowed over the lump that grew in this throat. “He’s kinda amazing, isn’t he?”

Sadness pressed at my chest, and I settled back down onto Christopher’s, my fingers twisting nervously in his shirt. “He’s the best… so kind and sweet. He’s my little angel.”

Silence engulfed us, a moment of quiet sorrow offered in respect for my little brother.

“How sick is he?” Christopher finally ventured, cautious and slow, his fingers threading in my hair. “I mean, God, I’ve seen pictures of kids with cancer before. But that? That’s just fucking wrong. No kid deserves that.”

If he’d stumbled at Stewart’s lack of hair and frail body, he definitely hadn’t shown it.

“No, he doesn’t,” I agreed. “Honestly? It’s been awful… but things are finally looking up. His doctor told us his prognosis is really good. The tough part of his treatment is over, and he’ll be going on maintenance therapy for at least another year, but they said it shouldn’t be anything like the last six months has been. The best thing is he’s supposed to feel a lot better during that time.”

“That’s good.” I could feel the force of his smile. “Really good.”

“Yeah, I just want him better.” I shifted so I could look up at him. “You made his day today, you know. He’s never that excited.”

“I’d do it every single day if he wanted me to. If you wanted me there.”

“Of course I want you there.”

Hurt tightened his tone. “What about your mom? What did she say after I left?”

I laughed through my discomfort, letting my fingertips trail over his chin and down the deep hollow of his neck as I glanced up to gauge his reaction. “She grilled me about you… asked a bunch of really personal questions… if we were dating and what you meant to me and what your intentions are.”