First Love: A Superbundle Boxed Set of Seven New Adult Romances (109 page)

Come.

As soon as I sent it, a calmness flowed over me. I stopped shivering and lay still on the floor.

Within seconds, I had a reply.

Corabelle, is this you? Where? I’m coming.

I typed the address. Once it was sent, I realized what a mess I was, wet, naked, clothes throughout the apartment. I scrambled up and wrapped my hair, hurtling through to my bedroom.

As I yanked on a shirt and shorts, I regretted bringing him in. Nothing good could come from this. He had seen me with Austin. He couldn’t be happy about that.

I picked up the clothes and stuffed them in the hamper. My hair was a disaster and couldn’t be combed, thick and tangled and wet. I twisted it into a messy bun and shoved a half-dozen bobby pins through it.

I had a feeling I was going to spill my secrets. Maybe it was time to lay it all out. The weeks of the SAT. What happened in New Mexico. I’d already lost him once and survived. At least this time there would not be any lies or guilt.

The doorbell buzzed. Too late to back out.

I opened the door. Gavin stood on the porch, shirtless, sweaty, wearing only a pair of workout shorts and tennis shoes. My heart caught. His chest was as smooth as ever, but now he was so muscled, the hard pecs leading into his shoulders and broad sinewed arms. His lean waist disappeared into the band of his shorts, and I had to step back, blood rushing in my ears. All day long with Austin and I felt nothing. Ten seconds with Gavin and I had forgotten why I’d held myself away from boys for all these years.

He grabbed my shoulders and yanked me to him, crushing my face against his neck. I fit there as perfectly as I always had, but his bare skin was a jolt, a spark that zigzagged through my body. I wanted to lift my chin, let him search my face like he used to, and lean in with those tantalizing lips. I needed to look at him, all of him, see what had changed and what remained the same. I wanted to feel something again.

I felt a wave of emotion and held it in, but a small sound escaped, like a whimper.

“Corabelle.”

The word washed over me like a wave of cool air. No one pronounced my name quite like Gavin, who’d grown up with it, who first said it with chubby toddler cheeks, who tossed it out as we ran down pathways as kids. And who’d said it so differently that one time, that first time, when we realized we were not going to be forever friends, but expand into so much more.

Cars passed by in the broken parking lots of the complex, shining lights on us. Gavin pulled me inside and closed the door. “You asked for me.”

My throat was too tight to speak, but I nodded.

“I won’t walk out on you again. Never again.” He was lit only by the yellowish light of the entry, but still, his dark hair and strong features were visible, those same eyes I’d looked into and trusted as a girl.

When I didn’t answer, he pulled me back against him, and for the space of several heartbeats, we just stood there. I calmed down in degrees, relieved to be held after so long. I had forgotten how comforting it was to rely on another person.

“Let’s sit down,” he said and led me to my sofa, a ratty bit of salvaged furniture covered in a bright rainbow blanket.

He didn’t let go, but pulled me into his lap, cradling my knees up against him so that I sat sideways, curled against his chest. He breathed onto my hair and his heart thumped against my ear. I never ever wanted to move.

Chapter 19: Gavin

I was so afraid of scaring Corabelle away, I didn’t even want to talk.

Her hair was chilly against my chest, like she’d just gotten out of the shower. She wore very little, just a tiny white tank top and silky shorts that showed so much leg, I had to clamp down every raging thought.

Everything competed for dominance. Relief that she asked for me. Worry about why. And the need to touch her, to connect with someone who hadn’t been paid to be there.

I just knew it was that guy. He’d tried something on her. My heart started pounding. I pictured him on her, pinning her down, and her screaming and beating on his back.

I’d kill him. I’d break his scrawny neck.

“Did he hurt you?” I finally asked, already imagining my fist connecting with his pathetic little face.

Corabelle stiffened against me. “Who?”

“That asshole you were with earlier. Did he hurt you?”

She pinched the bridge of her nose, and I grasped her hand. “I’ll take care of him. He won’t go within ten miles of you again.”

Corabelle shook her head. “No. No. He didn’t hurt me. He just — he wasn’t who I thought he was.”

My relief was so intense that I exhaled in a big heavy rush. “Thank God.”

“I — I haven’t had any trouble like that.” Her voice was so tenuous, so lost.

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” I said. “I’m just here for you.” I hesitated. I’d been given this incredible opportunity. I couldn’t blow it. “I meant what I said. I won’t ever walk out on you again. Never.”

With that, she pushed away from me and walked across the room. “It will never come to that.”

I jumped up. “What do you mean?”

She waved her hand in the air. “I mean, I’m done with relationships for now. I can’t do them. I won’t.”

“You sure seemed chummy with short stack.”

“When did you get so bitter?”

“Maybe when everything went south, same as you?”

Corabelle turned her face to the wall. “I shouldn’t have brought you here. I’m sorry.”

Damn it. I was doing it all wrong. Bring it down. “I’m glad you did. I was dying to see you. I was so wrong the other day at your work. I said the wrong things. I even tried to badger Rainbow Brite to give me your number.”

She turned her face to me, confused. “You mean Jenny? Yes, she told me.” Then her face completely changed, morphing into rage. She stalked across the room and before I could fathom what she was about to do, she punched me in the ribs. “You jerk. You complete and utter asshole.”

I grabbed her hand and stilled it against my chest. “I know. I shouldn’t have called you that.”

“Called me what?” She searched my face a minute. “Oh, right, I’m easy.”

“I’m sorry, Corabelle. I was so jealous. The thought that you were with him…”

She struggled with her hand a moment, then hit me on the arm with her other. I accepted the blow. She had every right to do it. “It’s not that.” Her eyes went totally dark. “You told Jenny about the baby!” She struggled against me, but I held on. “Why did you do that?”

“I was desperate. I had to get her to understand how important this was.”

She tried to back away, but I kept her hand imprisoned. “I didn’t want anyone here to know!” she said.

I jerked her back against me, my mouth against her hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do.”

Her breath was fast and hard, her shoulders jumping. I knew I was screwing up when I did it. Still, I was here. I couldn’t regret it. Now I had a chance. She had to remember how good we were together. I had to remind her.

My hand on hers was trapped against her breast and I became acutely aware of her body, the softness beneath the back of my hand, the shampoo perfume of her wet hair. I went full mast immediately. I knew the moment she noticed because she let out a little gasp.

Corabelle tried to pull away again, but I kept her close. I couldn’t bear to let her go, not yet. “Give me just a minute with you,” I croaked out. “I won’t do anything, but just let me have this moment.”

She relaxed and her belly pressed against me. It took all the control I possessed not to push harder against her, to trail my hand down her back, to move back into that heat we felt in the dish room at her work. Remembering her reaction to me then made my cock jump. I glanced down at her, those soft breasts pressed against my chest. Her nipples poked into the white tank and I lost it completely, grinding against her, letting her hand go to cup her chin and raise her face to mine. My mouth felt so hot against her cool lips. I needed her, all of her, and held her so tight that I don’t think either of us could breathe.

Her hand beat against me again, and I felt like I was that jerk boy I had been so angry about when I came in. I let her go and she spun away, putting distance between us.

“You can’t do this,” she choked out. “I called you here, but not for this.”

I ran my hands through my hair, trying to cool down. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“I just —” She covered her face with her hands. “I don’t know.”

The sofa cushions crushed beneath my weight as I sank down, trying to put my need on lockdown. Corabelle stood several feet away, back by the wall, but looking at her didn’t help matters. Her hair was all scattered in a crazy knot. The tank clung to all her curves, her nipples still tantalizing beneath the thin fabric. The silky shorts v’d between her legs and I just wanted to race over there and part them, feel her, watch all the expressions come over her face as I pleasured her. I’d forgotten her feet, those little toes, decorated with pink nails.

I had to stop this.

“Tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it.” Except leave, I added silently. Please don’t ask me to leave.

She sat on the floor, tucking her knees to her chin. “Just be here. Just keep it easy.”

I leaned back on the sofa. “I can do that.”

I caught her glancing at my crotch, and I willed it to behave. “Should we talk about astronomy?” I asked.

She nodded.

“I think Professor Blowhard has a pipe up his ass about having to teach nonmajors.”

Corabelle almost smiled, I could see it.

“I’m sure it’s more fun to teach students who aren’t just there to goof around on the roof,” she said. A piece of black hair had fallen from the tangle and she twirled it with her finger.

“I hope the next lab feels a little less like something you do at a kids’ camp.”

Corabelle shook her head. “Yeah, I’m thinking I may be a bit of an overachiever for this class.”

“I bet you’ve got some perfect GPA.”

She shrugged. “I’ve done all right. I need the grades to get into grad school.”

I hated to think I’d lose her as soon as I found her. “Where are you thinking of going? Here?”

“Wherever I get accepted. I have a list.”

“None of them UCSD?”

She turned her head. “You seem hopeful I’ll stay.”

“I’m hopeful you’ll want to.”

She looked at the floor. “I don’t know what I want anymore.”

The urge to crawl over to her was strong, but I forced myself to stay on the sofa. “I wonder if Crazy Charles has made good on his valedictory speech.”

Corabelle smacked her hands against the carpet. “OH! That jerk! I forgot about him!”

“I never thought you’d forget the guy who stole the top spot from you.” Corabelle had ended up salutatorian when a perfect tie on their grades meant the committee looked to their noncredit courses for a decision.

“Last I heard, he was at MIT,” Corabelle said. “So he did well.”

She seemed to be relaxing again.

“Remember when we were kids, and practiced teaching school?” I asked.

“I know where this is going.” She kicked her legs out, and the sight of her thighs made my blood jump, but I stuffed it down.

I propped my feet on a scarred-up coffee table, hoping the position would hide anything that sprang up unexpectedly. “Charlie was always the student in the most trouble in our pretend classroom.”
 

“Didn’t we stick him in the corner? What did we use for him?”

“Your clown doll,” I said.

“Yes! That was it. I seemed to enjoy giving him F’s on all his essays.”

“You were a heartless one.”

Her smile was genuine and made her look so much like the old Corabelle. Our history seemed to fall away and we were almost like we’d been at the beginning of that terrible year, before anything went wrong. I wanted her so desperately, to talk to her while I held her close, to bring her around. I knew her. I knew everything about her. I could make her better, erase that sadness in her eyes, that panic that came over her so often.

Cool your jets, I told myself. One step at a time.

Chapter 20: Corabelle

I wasn’t going to be able to resist him. I could already see it.

He sat on my sofa, his feet up on my coffee table, and everything about my difficult world suddenly seemed so simple. I could see he was on edge. He always had these explosive moments. But he cared, a lot, and I had always forgiven him because I knew where they came from, his father, that jerk who never thought Gavin did anything right.

But would he forgive me? I couldn’t bear it if that anger was directed at me.

He talked about our old pretend school in my parents’ sunroom, looking out over the yard and the fence that had a Gavin-sized gap going to the alley. Eventually my father had put in a gate to make it easier for him to come over. He had no idea that he would later be enabling our torrid nights, Gavin coming in my window as freely as the hot winds blew through New Mexico.

My belly burned and the heat rushed between my legs. I tried to remember the last time we’d been together, all the way together, my last time. Maybe a week before the baby was born. Only in the last day or two when something seemed off, cramps in my back and random contractions, did we stop.

I managed to answer when he asked questions, but my mind wasn’t on the conversation anymore. I wanted to give him a shirt, so that I would stop looking at his chest. I’d been up against it twice already, and when he kissed me earlier, it had taken everything I had to get away.

But dang it, he made me mad. I was still so disgusted that our private story was out.

Gavin seemed to realize I’d quit paying attention and just watched me with those cool blue eyes.

I closed my own to cut off the visuals feeding my distraction, letting my head fall against the wall. Calling him had been a good thing. I felt in control again, less afraid of what had happened in the bathroom. Maybe now that the moment had passed I would be all right. I could send Gavin home, and we’d see each other in class on Monday, and fall into something easier than we’d endured so far. If I kept it light, then my secrets could stay tucked away. No more drama. No disaster or rejection or guilt.