Faster We Burn (16 page)

He took another sip of rum and I blushed at the end of his speech. I hadn’t blushed at something in a long, long time.

“How can I follow that?”

“I’m sure you’ll do okay,” he said, patting my knee. His hand lingered for just a second before he moved it.

“Okay, I’m also thankful for friends who stand by me even when I screw things up and also pink and roommates and my sister and my parents and Grampa Jack and for everyone being healthy and…and for a boy who took pity on a girl with a broken heart and showed her that all guys aren’t douchebags and who makes her feel happy again.”

I took a swallow of rum and waited for him to say something.

“Seems like we have a lot to be thankful for,” he said, swirling the liquid in his glass. All the things unsaid between us hung in the air like smoke.

“Oh, I’m also thankful that I’m alive. I don’t know how I forgot that,” I said. “Being alive is important. Unless you’re a vampire.”

“Haha.”

He put his glass down on the table and sighed.

“I’m sorry about the Ric thing. I feel even shittier about it now that you’ve done all this.” He waved his arm around.

“It’s okay. I forgive you, and I’m pretty sure she’s scared of me now, so that’s not a bad thing.”

“Was your mom pissed that you came back?” I wished he hadn’t changed the subject. I’d rather talk about Ric.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t talk to her before I left. We had our usual yelling match and then I went to my room with Kayla and then I left. I just couldn’t be in that house anymore with her. I’ll call her tomorrow.”

“You think she’ll ever see me as anything other than a troublemaker?”

Probably never. “She might. We’ll see,” I lied.

“So are you telling me that I have to take out my eyebrow ring, and my lip ring and cover my tattoos and dye my hair a respectable color?”

“No!” I couldn’t even imagine him that way.

“Oh, so you’re saying that you like all of this,” he gestured up and down. “Interesting.”

“It’s not that I don’t like it, it’s just that I can’t imagine you being like that. Being like everyone else. You’re not like everyone else.” I leaned closer and put my hand on his arm.

“You’re not like everyone else either, sweetheart,” he said, leaning in as well.

We both paused with our faces about a foot apart.

“So,” I said.

“So,” he said coming an inch closer. “There’s one more thing I want to be thankful for.”

“And what’s that?” I came closer so that when he exhaled, it moved my hair.

“This.” He put his hand under my chin and brought my face to his and gave me a sweet, soft kiss. Like the one we’d shared this afternoon, before we’d gotten interrupted.

Funny, that kiss had led directly to this one.

I leaned into him and kissed him slowly. No biting, no tongue. Just two sets of lips trying each other out. Testing. Teasing. I took my hands and put them on his upper arms, pulling him a fraction closer.

He tasted like the spiced rum and faintly of cigarettes. He must have smoked one with Ric. I really wished he’d quit, but I wasn’t going to quibble about something like that right now.

Stryker leaned back on the couch, taking me with him. I braced my hands on his chest as he moved his hands from my chin to my hair, wrapping it around his fingers and tugging it just a bit. The kiss got a little bit more intense, and he took the invitation to slip his tongue into my mouth. I touched his with mine and we began an exquisite slow dance, giving and taking, back and forth, him and me, me and him.

I pressed my body against his and felt him getting hard. He pulled his tongue back and broke the kiss. Both of us took a moment to breathe, and he put his hands under my chin again.

“I’m thankful for that.”

“Just the kissing?”

“For everything. For the way that you feel against me, and for the way you get this little pucker between your eyes when you kiss me hard. For the way you taste and you smell and for…you.”

“I’m thankful for you, too.”

He took his hands and squeezed my boobs.

“These are pretty great, too.”

I tried to be shocked, but he didn’t move his hands away, and started stroking my nipples. Despite having a shirt and a bra between his fingers and my skin, his touch was still setting me on fire.

“This wasn’t some elaborate plan to seduce me, was it?” he said, moving his hands down to my stomach and moving his thumbs in circular motions. It was very hard to think.

“No. I honestly wanted to apologize and Trish said you hated apologies, so I figured food was in order to help you swallow it. Besides, I don’t have to do much to seduce you, do I?” I squeezed his dick once and gave him a satisfied smirk.

He closed his eyes and breathed through his nose.

“We should get to bed,” he said.

“What?”

“It’s nearly six in the morning. Do you really want to start this now?”

“I wasn’t the one who started it. You did.”

“Sweetheart, you started it that first day when you ran after me and kissed me. I’ve only been following your lead since then.”

I turned my head to the side and put it on his chest so the temptation to kiss him again wasn’t so strong.

“So this is all my fault?”

“Pretty much.” He stroked my hair and I listened to the syncopated rhythm of his heart. I could still feel his desire against me, but I wasn’t going to do anything about it until he asked me to. I’d been in charge, and now it was his turn.

“Did you even bring anything to wear?” he said.

“Not really.” I hadn’t thought about that when I’d stormed out. My stuff was still back at the house.

“So what are you going to wear?”

“Your clothes.”

He exhaled loudly and laughed a little. “Jesus, Katie.”

“What?”

“There’s nothing sexier to a guy than a girl wearing his clothes.”

“Well, then what would make me un-sexy?”

He screwed his face up as if he was thinking really hard about it.

“Nothing.”

Chapter Thirteen

Stryker

Between the rum and the fact that she was talking about wearing my clothes, I was seconds away from throwing her over my shoulder, taking her to bed and ravaging her, but I held off.

We’d always just given in to our desire for each other, one way or another. Maybe there was something to be said for anticipation.

So, I moved out from under her, giving her one last little kiss on her chin.

“Where are you going?” she said, confused.

“To clean up and to find somewhere to put all the leftovers in my fridge.” I grabbed both our plates and dumped them in the sink. It was going to take at least an hour just to clean up everything, but at least she’d started by putting some of the utensils in the sink.

“You’re not avoiding having sex with me, are you?” she said.

“No,” I lied. She got up and brought some of the dishes over.

“Then why do I get the feeling you’re avoiding having sex with me?”

“I’m not avoiding it, I’m just…not giving in to the urge.” Same difference.

“Why not?”

I turned around and faced her. “Because we always do. You say, ‘let’s have sex’ and I’m all for it. I’ve never said no to sex. Well, except for Ric, but that doesn’t really count. I’ve never said no, and I just think we need to…back off a bit.”

“Why the change all of a sudden?” Her eyes narrowed.

“I just think we should take a step back. Jesus, the second time I met you we had sex. That’s not exactly how things usually go.”

“So, are you saying that you want to rewind and start over? That you want to be my boyfriend? Because that’s not what I want.”

I shook my head quickly. That was definitely not what I wanted. “No, that’s not what I want, either. I just think we should maybe put the brakes on. Just for a little while.”

“Okay,” she said, coming to stand next to me at the sink and grabbing a sponge. “We’ll slow down.”

***

In the spirit of slowing down, I slept on the couch and let Katie have my bed. Yes, we had slept in the same bed multiple times before, but that was always after sex. I couldn’t handle being in the same bed with her all night, I knew that much, and when she came out of my bathroom wearing a ratty OAR t-shirt that was too big for her and a pair of my boxers, I nearly said “screw slowing down”, but I took my desire to peel the t-shirt from her skin and shoved it deep down and started doing quadratic equations in my head.

“Are you sure you’re okay taking the couch?” she said, pulling on the hem of the shirt so it skimmed her thighs. It took me a second to realize what she was saying because I was too busy picturing those thighs spread wide and her head thrown back in ecstasy.

“It’s fine, Katie. I’ve passed out there more than once.” It seemed dumb to say goodnight because it was actually morning by the time we got the kitchen in order and all the leftovers stored somewhere. Fortunately, neither of us had to be anywhere. She was completely and totally running away from her problems, but that seemed to be her thing, and I wasn’t going to tell her what to do. Not this time. I’d told her not to go see Zack and she’d done it anyway, and look where that had gotten her.

Even though she closed the door, I could still hear every move she made. Every time she turned over, which was quite frequently, I wanted to get up and go climb in bed with her. All I could think about was how perfectly her back fit against my front, how perfectly my arms fit around her and how perfect her head felt when it was tucked into my shoulder.

I’d closed all the curtains, but daylight still invaded the apartment, and since I couldn’t sleep, I spent the time I wanted to be sleeping telling myself all the reasons Katie and I would never work. Yes, I’d said I didn’t want to be her boyfriend, but that didn’t mean that I wanted to say goodbye to her. She’d sort of dropped into my life and now I couldn’t see going back to a time without her.

“Stryker?” her soft voice called to me from a crack in my bedroom door.

I didn’t roll over because I knew I would somehow find her eyes, and if I did, I was a goner. “Yeah?”

“I can’t sleep.” That made two of us.

“Normally people go to bed when it’s dark, but we were too busy with our second Thanksgiving.” Shit, that was mean. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean it that way. I’m just really tired, Katie.”

“Me too.”

“Then go to sleep.” Her soft footsteps were like drumbeats as she crossed the floor and stood behind the couch. I turned my head and there she was in all her gorgeous wearing-my-clothes-and-sexy-bedhead glory. She leaned her forearms over the edge of the couch and it was all I could do not to grab them and yank her on top of me.

“I can’t. Every time I do, I just remember all the things I’ve fucked up lately.”

I wanted her to go away. I wanted her to go back in her room so I couldn’t smell her skin or watch her breathe or see her wide brown eyes.

“Well count some fucking sheep then, Katie.”

She was only shocked for a second.

“You’re pushing me away and I want to know why, Stryker.”

“Maybe because I just want to get some sleep, Katherine.” I’d never used her full first name, but I knew it would get her attention. A little smirk tugged at her lips and she leaned further over the couch so I could feel her every breath on my bare chest. I only had my boxers on, but at least my lower half was covered with a bit of a blanket that Trish had made me. I was going to have to shift positions very soon so she wouldn’t see my hard on.

“There you go again, Stryker Abraham Grant.” I had no idea who the hell had told her my middle name, but I was going to strangle them the first chance I got. I re-arranged the blanket so it covered more of my chest and glared at her.

“Why are you pushing me away now? Is it because you’re scared that you feel something for me? Because…you’re not the only one.” She looked down when she said the last part, which was why I knew it was true, and not just a way to get me admit something.

“It’s crazy, I know. You and me, we don’t make sense. At all,” she whispered.

“No, we don’t.” I could agree with her on that.

“But I’ve been thinking about something you said to me. About the fact that I was trying to be something I wasn’t. It’s not completely true, but it’s not completely untrue, either. I’ve lived my whole life under the shadow of my sister, and I guess I never really stopped to think about who I was. I was always trying to not be her, but wanting desperately to be her at the same time. That makes absolutely no sense at all.” She shook her head, and it fell over her shoulders and in her face. I pushed some of it back.

“No, it makes complete sense.”

She leaned her head against my hand. “I knew you’d understand.”

“So now you have to figure out who you are, Katherine Ann Hallman. When you do, let me know.” I took my hand away and rolled over, putting my back to her.

I heard her sharp exhale, as if I’d thrown cold water on her. She waited for a moment, as if I was going to roll back over with a smile and tell her I was kidding. I stayed as still as I could, holding my breath. After a moment, I heard her take her hands away and stand up straight.

“Happy Thanksgiving, asshole.”

She marched back to my room and slammed the door.

Finally.

***

Somehow I got to sleep and when I opened my eyes, it must have been almost noon. I stretched a kink out of my back and rubbed my eyes. I listened for any sounds from my bedroom, but all was quiet. I sat up and noticed something on my chest.

Writing.

There was a discarded marker on my coffee table. Someone had written something on my chest while I was sleeping, and they’d written it upside down so I could read it when I woke up. I only needed one guess to figure out who had done it, but the question was how she’d done it without waking me up. That took talent.

I know you’re being a jerk because you’re pushing me away. You should have just been a jerk from the beginning and I might have believed you last night. That’s fine. I don’t want to force myself into someone’s life. I’m off to go find myself, or some such crap like that. Call me if you want to have sex. I’m always open for that with you.