Here With You (6 page)

The vivid hues sparked an idea in her own mind, and she opened her own sketchpad and
began drawing a bra with variated colors like the sunrise. She drew quickly, with
sparing lines, switching pencils to fill in the colors she wanted. She flipped the
page to draw a dusk version with dark colors—midnight blue, purple, and gray.

"You draw underwear?"

She snapped the pad shut. Turning her head, she found Grif right there, so close,
watching over her shoulder. "Don't spy on me."

"I'd prefer to call it observing."

She frowned. "Let me see your words then."

"No." He held his sketchpad away from her. "It's private."

"Remember that next time." She put her things back into her purse. "Did you come up
with anything good?"

"I wrote a few things down." He sipped his coffee, a bleak look in his eyes. "That's
more than I've done in the past several months."

"Don't you have someone who inspires you?" she asked before she could stop herself.

"Like who?"

In for a penny... "Like a woman."

Comprehension dawned on his face. He smiled ruefully. "No, I'm not dating anyone.
I haven't in months. Being on tour is hell on a relationship."

"Do you want a relationship?" she asked hesitantly.

"Yes. Eventually." He gazed at the sky. "Like what my parents have, and your parents.
You know how close they are. One day, I'd like that."

"But not now?" she pried.

He was quiet for so long that she didn't think he was going to reply, but then he
said, "I've been living the musician's life. Traveling, women throwing themselves
at me. I haven't been as bad as some, I hope, but I haven't been a monk. It's a tempting
lifestyle when you're in your early twenties. But, yes, given the right situation,
I could see myself with one woman forever."

Nicole tried to picture the type of woman who'd be with him. Tall and blond, like
that model he'd dated last year, according to the celebrity magazines. She frowned.

He turned his head to focus on her. "What about you? What do you want from life?"

"I just want to live my passion." That was the line she gave anyone who questioned
her direction—or lack thereof—in life.

Grif stared at her. She wondered what he was thinking—his gaze was hooded and she
couldn't read his thoughts. It made her uncomfortable.

But then he took her hand in his, holding it loosely. "This was a good idea, Nicole.
Thank you."

She looked at where they were joined. She knew she should pull her hand away, but
it was just a friendly gesture.

Only when was the last time one of her "friends" tried to hold her hand?

Right.

Still, even as she told herself to disengage, she couldn't do it. It was nice, sitting
with him as the sun streaked pink across the sky. "I missed you," she heard the words
slip from her mouth.

He rubbed his thumb along hers. "I missed you, too, Nicole."

Chapter Five

Rachel stopped by her French class after school, to ask Madame Roche a question. She
could care less about conjugating the verb
avoir
in past perfect tense—she cared that it'd take a long time to explain because her
teacher didn't know how to give a concise answer. By the time Roche was finished,
the
–sons of anarchy
would be gone and Rachel's locker would be clear.

After ten minutes of explanation, she managed to extricate herself from her teacher's
clutches. She walked down the hall, head lowered, just in case. Before she rounded
the corner to her locker, she peered around the corner to check.

The coast was clear.

Her shoulders relaxed, and she headed straight to her locker. She just needed to switch
one book and then she could leave. The quicker she was in and out, the better. She
fumbled with the padlock, exhaling when it clicked open. She pulled the book out of
her bag and looked into her locker.

Then she froze.

Dangling from the middle of the small space was a pair of yellow briefs with SpongeBob
on them. A note was pinned to them:
We found these and figured they were yours. You're welcome.

She tugged them down and shoved them in her bag. This had to stop. She'd show them.
She'd get better underwear than the tacky stuff they wore.

There was that store across from Grounds for Thought: Romantic Notions. She'd go there
and get expensive underwear that'd make them jealous. Then she'd shove the yellow
briefs down their throats.

"Hey."

Slamming the door shut, she whirled around to find Aaron Hawke leaning against Madison's
locker. Did he see the SpongeBob underwear? Her cheeks burned.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "You have a funny look on your face."

"I'm fine." She hugged her bag closer and began walking toward the exit.

"Uh-oh." He followed her, his long legs easily keeping pace with her brisk city-girl
walk. "Whenever people say they're fine, they're usually anything but."

She glanced at him. "I'm not sure why you'd care."

He smiled. "I know, but I do."

His smile did something funny to the pit of her stomach. Her tongue suddenly felt
too big in her mouth, so she walked faster to cover it up.

"Where are you headed?" he asked, seemingly not bothered by the fact that she was
practically running.

She shrugged, feeling her face go red again as she thought about Aaron Hawke knowing
she was going to Romantic Notions. "Nowhere."

"Want to get hot chocolate?"

She stopped abruptly and goggled at him. "Like a date?"

He laughed. "Don't look so excited."

Shaking her head, she said, "I have an errand to take care of."

"Ouch." Aaron put a hand over his heart. "You know how to take a guy down a peg. Can
I at least walk you wherever you're going?"

The thought of one of the hottest boys in school knowing she was going to buy underwear
embarrassed her. She shook her head emphatically as she edged away from him. "That's
not an excellent idea. I, um, I'll see you tomorrow."

Before he could say anything, she hurried off. She turned left on a street, walking
away from the lingerie store, before doubling back on another street. As she approached
Romantic Notions, she checked to make sure no one she knew was around. Seeing no one
but a woman pushing a stroller, Rachel rushed in and closed the door firmly behind
her.

Heart pounding, she looked around the store. There was underwear everywhere: hanging
from little padded ivory hangers, covering tables in colorful piles, and spilling
out of dresser drawers. She did a slow circle, amazed. This was a whole world she
hadn't known existed. Where did she start?

A lady in a short skirt, sweater, tights, and boots
came out from the back
. "Hey there. Feel free to look around, and if you need help just give me a shout."

"Thank you,"
Rachel
murmured, ducking her head and moving to the opposite side of the room.
She stopped in front of
a lacy red bra and matching underwear.

Red was grown up. Standing in front of it, she frowned at the bra. It had a hole right
in the middle of it. What good was it if it wasn't going to cover anything?

She moved on to the black bra next to it. It seemed whole, and a little more protective,
with thin black straps that criss-crossed all across the front. Black was
way grown-up. Addison wore a lot of black.

"That's really nice on," the sales lady said, rummaging in a dresser on the other
side of the store. "But if you're looking for a bra, I have one over here I think
would look fabulous on you."

Rachel looked at the bra and panties that the lady brought over to her. It didn't
have straps or thin frilly lace. It was black with tiny pink polka dots and a pink
bow at the center. The underwear was matching, with
a
bow in front.

"I brought you the boy shorts, but I have matching thongs, too." The lady smiled.
"I love the boy shorts, and with your long slim legs they're going to look fantastic."

"Really?" She tried to remember if Addison or Madison wore boy shorts.

"Try it," the woman encouraged her. "They'll look hot.
The dressing room is back that way. My name is Nicole, if you need help.
"

Nodding, she dragged her feet to the curtain Nicole pointed at. She shrugged off her
bag and stripped down to her underwear. Turning, she studied herself in the mirror.

As much as she hated to admit it, the
–sons
were right: her underwear was ugly. Wrinkling her nose, she took them off and put
on the set the saleswoman had given her.

"How are you doing in there?" The curtain swept aside and
Nicole
popped her head in.

Rachel gasped, covering herself.

"Let me see." Like it was nothing,
Nicole
moved Rachel's arms and surveyed the bra. Then she twirled her finger. "Turn around.
We need to adjust it a little."

Mortified, she stood silently as the woman tightened and adjusted straps. "That's
the way it's supposed to fit," Nicole said with a nod. "Look now."

The quicker she humored the woman, the sooner she'd leave, so Rachel turned and glanced
in the mirror. T
h
en she did a double-take. "I have breasts."

Nicole
grinned. "The power of a good bra. Do you see the back here? It should fit straight
across your back. Your other bra was riding up."

She'd thought that was just the way bras were.
She wondered if her mom had known that.
"How did you know?"

"I could tell. It's what I do. And those boy shorts really do look amazing on you."

She looked down. They rode lower on her hips than her briefs, and they made her feel
strange, but in a good way. She blushed, imagining
Aaron
looking at them. "I'll buy them," she said impulsively.

"Good decision." The sales lady patted her shoulder. "I'll meet you outside."

S
h
e got dressed, reluctantly putting on her old underwear. She covered it quickly with
her T-shirt and sweater to hide it
and tugged
her jeans up.

When she walked out of the dressing room, the saleswoman was talking to a man. Rachel
could only see him from the back
, but she wondered why he was in San Francisco. Based on his hat and boots, he was
obviously a cowboy
.

He looked relaxed, the way he leaned against the counter with one boot crossed over
the other. Which was kind of cool, because
she
was uncomfortable in the lingerie store and she was a girl. If she were a guy, she'd
be doubly uncomfortable. He seemed right at home.

W
as he b
uy
ing
underwear for his girlfriend?
Was Nicole his girlfriend?
She wondered what it'd be like to have a boyfriend, or to have him buy things for
her, especially private things like underwear.
She tried to picture Aaron in here. He'd actually be relaxed, just like the cowboy.

The sales lady looked around the guy, her hand outstretched. "I'll take that, honey."

The man turned around and smiled at her.

Rachel froze midstep, her breath catching like she'd been knocked in the chest.
Griffin Chase. He was Griffin Chase.

She opened her mouth, wanting to tell him how her mom loved his music and used to
listen to it all the time. That his music saved her after her mom died. She'd been
so alone, but when she listened to his songs it was like had a friend who understood
her. Whenever she felt really alone, she'd put his albums on repeat and she could
almost feel her mom still with her. But her tongue got all mangled in her mouth again.

He turned his attention to
Nicole
. "I should go so you can work. See you later, Nic?"

"Do I have a choice?" B
u
t
the saleswoman
said it with a hint of a smile.

"You always have a choice."

The lady rolled her eyes. "Get out of here before you cause a riot."

He winked at the lady and then turned his smile on Rachel.

S
h
e gasped.
He was so much better looking than on his album covers or the poster in Madison's
locker. She swallowed, reaching out her hand.
"Griffin Chase
,
"
she croaked.

"See?" the saleswoman said.

He leaned forward, a finger to his lips
, looking right into her eyes
. "Shh. Don't tell anyone."

Rachel shook her head in awe. "I won't
,
"
she managed to say this time.

With another smile, he left the store. She watched him put his sunglasses on and head
down the street. Did he live in Laurel Heights?

Nicole
sighed. "Another conquest."

Rachel turned. "What?"

"Never mind." She
shook her head
, smiling gently
. "If you like this set, there's another in lime that'd look great with your skin."

"Yes, please. I'll take both." She took out
the
emergency credit card
her dad had given her
. If there was ever an emergency, it was this.
"
Is
Griffin Chase
your boyfriend?
"

"
No.
" Nicole
made a face like the thought was disgusting.
"
We used to be best friends in high school.
"

"
Really?
" Rachel
tried to think of having someone like him as her best friend. For some reason she
thought of
Aaron
.
"
So you're not dating him?
"

"
Dating someone popular like him may seem like a great idea. He's hot and successful,
and it'd be exciting. But there
are
downside
s
.
"