Games of Fire (30 page)

Her shoulders sagged. “Nothing. Never mind. It’s not important.”

“That’s not going to fly.” He pushed away from the door and reached her in two quick strides, backing her against the shelf. He braced one arm on the shelf next to her head, trapping her completely. “I have a right to know what I did.”

The heat of his body swelled up around her, burning her through her dress. She fought not to shiver as it overwhelmed and took her over. His scent wove through her senses, tempting her to lean in close and breathe him in deeply. She almost closed her eyes before catching herself.

“You didn’t do anything,” she admitted.

“Then what?”

She raised her eyes to his face, confused and flustered by the raw passion and anger behind his eyes. He looked like a man on a mission, one that wasn’t about to back down without a serious fight, which baffled her.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered. “Isn’t this what you wanted? Didn’t you want me to leave you alone?”

He jerked back an inch as if her words had the power to strike him. “Is that what you think?”

Sophie shook her head. “I don’t know what to think. You never made it any secret.”

“I thought we were past this,” he murmured so quietly she had to strain to hear him. “I thought I proved that I didn’t really want that.”

She thought of all the times he’d touched her, kissed her, looked at her as if she were the most magical thing in the world and felt tears prickle behind her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

He ignored her apology. “But that isn’t why you’ve been running. Why are you pushing me away? Is there … ” He faltered. “Is there someone else?”

Without meaning to, Sophie laughed. “Someone else? How can there be when you’re all I think about?”

Something akin to relief washed over his face, as he dropped his shoulders in a sigh. The fingers on his free hand glided over the skin of her wrist. “Then what? What did I do, Sophie?”

The plea in his tone tore at her heart. It filled her chest with sharp barbs of pain. Her hands were lifting and flattening against his chest before she could stop herself. Her fingers curled into the soft material of his hoodie. “It’s not you. It’s me—”

He jerked away. “Don’t say that!”

She tightened her grip on him. “No! It really is. I’m selfish.”

He stopped trying to get away and focused on her. “What are you talking about?”

She bit her lip, redirecting the stinging in her eyes. “I don’t want you to go back to Aimee.”

Every muscle in his body went rigid. “What … ? Why would you … ? Suzy!”

Unable to meet the power of his gaze, Sophie dropped her eyes to the leering skull challenging her from his hoodie. “I know you still love her and I know I can’t change that
, as much as I want to. I also can’t change your mind about me or us, if there is even an us, but … ” She bit down hard on her lip, tasting blood, but the tears refused to remain contained this time. They spilled down her cheeks. “I can’t stand the thought of being with you, only to have you leave me the moment she decides to want you back, which is stupid because you’ve made it clear you don’t even want me, but I want you and I don’t want you to want her, because I’m selfish and—”

His lips tore apart the rest of her words with a vicious kiss. His hard hands closed around her hips and she was lifted, propped against the shelf as he forced his hips between her thighs. Her arms hooped around his neck. Her fingers burrowed into his hair as she let every drop of her pain, want, hunger, desire,
and passion pour over him in a flood of ravenous kisses.

“Lock!” he growled against her mouth, tapping her knee.

She did, closing her legs around his waist and locking her ankles at his back.

With a satisfied groan, he deepened the kiss, bruising and claiming her. His fingers worked through her unbound mane, clamping and keeping her captive.

“Not want you?” he hissed, pulling back just enough to nip on her bottom lip with his teeth. “I have never wanted anyone half as much as I want you, Blondie! Suzy means well, but she has no idea what’s going on. You should have come to me instead of listening to her.”

Dizzy and panting, Sophie shook her head.
“It wasn’t just her. I just feel like this is doomed to fail. Like I’m Sisyphus.”

Spencer frowned. “Who?”

“Sisyphus,” she repeated. “He was punished by Zeus and had to push a boulder up a mountain, but each time he would get to the top, the boulder would slip and roll back down. I feel like I’m pushing you up this huge mountain and at any moment you’re going to slip and … ” She hung her head. “I’m so stupid.”

“Hey.” He nudged her chin up, giving her no choice but to peer into his eyes. “You’re not stupid. If anything, this is my fault. I haven’t been fair to you since we met and I’m sorry.”
He kissed her, slow and sweet, stealing all her senses. “I want
you
, Sophie.”

“I don’t mean only like this!” She opened her eyes and peered up into his
eyes. “I want
all
of you! I want you to be mine, only mine.”

His face softened. “How could you not see it?”

She couldn’t see anything except how beautiful his mouth was and how much she wanted it back on hers.

“What?”

His thumb traced her bottom lip. “That you’ve had me from the first moment we met.” He kissed her lightly once, twice, slow, sweet pecks. “The second I looked into your eyes … ” More kisses. “I was yours.”

Her doubts were on the tip of her tongue and her tongue was in his mouth, so she ignored her questions as she returned every paralyzing, bone melting kiss.
She tangled her fingers into his hair and gripped him close.

“Sophie,
are you in—” The door flew open and Joe’s silhouette froze on the threshold, his hazel eyes widening in disbelief as he took in the scene.

“Joe!” She quickly untangled herself from Spencer and straightened her dress. “What are you doing here?”

Joe blinked a few times, shaking his head as if trying to wake himself up from a nightmare. He stumbled out of the room, nearly tripping over his own feet as he turned and fled.

“Joe! Wait!” But he was already disappearing up the stairs. Sophie turned to Spencer. “I have to
… ”

He nodded. “I’ll come with you.”

She shook her head. “I should talk to him alone.”

Spencer hesitated, but gave a slight nod. “Can I see you tonight?”

She smiled. “Yes!”

The uncertainty on his face melted into a grin as he touched her cheek. “Later, Blondie.”

With a last glance at him, Sophie hurried after Joe. He was nowhere in sight by the time she reached the front of the church. But she knew where he would be headed and took off in that direction. Three blocks down, she spotted his hunched back trudging miserably through the light mist.

“Joe!” she called, running to catch up. “Joe, wait!”

He kept walking, head down, hands lost in the pockets of his tattered jeans. She caught up to him, taking a hold of his elbow to stop him.

“Joe, please!” she pleaded, placing herself in his path.

The soft rain glistened in his hair, dampening the wavy strands, plastering them to his shadowed face. “I need to get home,” he mumbled.

“Let me explain!”

“What’s there to explain? I saw you! You can’t deny it.”

She stepped in his way when he tried sidestepping her. “I’m not denying what you saw. I just
… ” She trailed off, not exactly sure what she was apologizing for.

“You said it was over.”

“I said I didn’t know!” She inhaled deeply. “I really care about him, Joe.”

Joe staggered back as though she’d struck him. “How can you? You only just met the guy!”

“I’m not saying I love him! I just really like him, a lot.”

His face twisted into one of disbelief. “What’s the difference?”

“Well, if he asks me to marry him, I’ll more than likely say not right now.” It had been meant as a joke, but his face only darkened further.

“Not no.”

Sophie sighed. “Come on, Joe. I know you’re only looking out for me and think Spencer’s not good for me, but—”

“He’s not! He’s a jerk, you said so yourself.”

“He
was
a jerk,” she corrected. “But there’s a whole explanation behind that.”

Joe sighed, rolling his hazel eyes heavenward. “Every abusive relationship starts off with those
exact words.”

Sophie staggered back. “Abusive relationship?”

“A jerk doesn’t just change overnight. He will always be a jerk. Trust me. I’m an expert on abusive assholes.”

“So, what you’re saying is I’m too stupid and weak to know when I’m being had, is that it?”

He shook his head. “No, I’m saying you’re too nice and trusting to know when you’re being had.”

Sophie rocked her head from side to side in disbelief. “You know what, I don’t think that’s your call to make. You’re my best friend and I value your opinion, but in the end, I will decide for myself. I care about Spencer and I want to be with him.”

For several long minutes, Joe said nothing. He stared at her, studying her face, tracing her swollen lips, her tangled hair and wrinkled clothes with a hot anger that both scared and confused her. Joe had always been so even tempered, so unruffled by most things. He was naturally quiet and somber, but she had never seen him angry.

Finally, after what felt like hours of silence, Joe spoke. “You’re making a mistake, Sophie. I know you are.”

Later that evening while Sophie helped wash dishes, she thought back on what Joe had said about her relationship with Spencer being a mistake and wondered if that were true. Her doubts hadn’t appeased simply because Spencer assured her there was nothing to worry about. There was always something to worry about, especially when she knew it was impossible to just stop loving someone, which made her wonder if Spencer was ready for a relationship. Was he ready to push aside his feelings for Aimee? She could only trust Spencer’s word and pray he wouldn’t break her heart. But then, wasn’t that what love was? Trusting someone else not to hurt you?

She
was swinging on her jacket when a soft knock sounded on the front door.

“I’ll get it!” she called, veering towards the sound
, stuffing her keys and phone into her pocket. She swung the door open and gaped. “Spencer?”

Gone were the black jeans, the black tops and leather wrist bands. Gone were the dog tags around his neck, the cargo jacket and leering skulls. In their place stood a gorgeous boy in normal jeans in soft gray, a softly knitted black turtle neck and a worn, leather jacket. His hair was swept out of his face and combed to the side, baring eyes that were much too pale to be real.  On his feet, black runners.

“Hey,” he murmured, tucking his hands into his jacket pockets.

“Uh
… ” was all she could think to say as her mind oozed out of her ears. “Spencer?”

The left corner of his mouth tilted. “
Do I look that strange?”

Strange? No. He most definitely did not look strange. Hot. Very. Very. Hot.

“Why are you dressed like that?” she finally found the tongue to say.

He looked down at himself. “Don’t like it?”

“I love it,” she disagreed. “I mean, I like you in anything, but … wow!”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. A faint blush formed high up on his cheeks.

“Are we still hanging out?” Or was he there to cancel?

“Um
… ” He cleared his throat.

Sophie felt her heart plummet to her feet. “Oh, that’s all right. Maybe another—”

“No!” he shouted, putting his hands up as if to stop her. “I mean, yes, we’re still hanging out … if you want to.”

“I want to!” she said.

He smiled. “I just … ” he cleared his throat again, shifted feet. “I was thinking maybe we could try something new.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Like a date?”

He faltered, cleared his throat. “Yeah, like a date.”

Sophie beamed. “Where
are we going?”

He winced. “My house.”

Sophie laughed. “Okay.”

“It’s just
… without a car … ”

She shook her head, waving away his explanation while fumbling with the doorknob. “Your house is fine.” She turned her head
toward the kitchen. “Mom! I’m going to Spencer’s place!”

“Okay!” she heard her mother call back.

Sophie closed the door behind her and turned to Spencer. He offered her his elbow. She giggled as she slipped her arm through the crook.

“So how’d things go with
Joe?” he asked as they made their way down her driveway.

She sighed. “Not so great.”

“He doesn’t think I’m good enough for you.”

“Joe doesn’t think anyone is good enough for me. He just doesn’t want me to get hurt.”