Juliet Immortal (15 page)

Silence falls over our corner of the barn. Gemma’s expression hardens before a forced smile works its way across her face. “Totally right. I am
so
spoiled and out of touch. Forgive me.” She tosses back the rest of her wine in one gulp.

Ben sighs. “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that. I just—”

“No, it’s cool.” Gemma jumps to her feet. “I’m going to go grab some chips from my trunk. Anybody want pretzels or sour gummy bears? I hear they pair well with stolen chard.”

“Gemma, I—”

“Last chance for snacks,” Gemma says, cutting Ben off again. “Any takers? Going one, twice …”

“I’m good,” I say.

“Me too.” But Ben doesn’t sound good. He sounds angry, frustrated.

“Okay, but don’t try to steal my sour cream and onion chips when I get back because I won’t be sharing. Help yourself to another glass if you want.” She turns and disappears into the maze of barrels, leaving us alone.

I study Ben’s tense profile, knowing this is my chance to urge him to forgive Gemma but unsure what to say. I feel so confused, my thoughts muddled by wine and concerns that go deeper than anything alcohol-related. Despite the brief moments of connection, Ben and Gemma just don’t seem
right
together.

“Sorry,” Ben says. “I don’t like the way she talks to you.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, really. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.”

“But I am.”

“You’re starting to sound like me,” I say, getting to my feet and crossing to the tank, knowing I shouldn’t drink any more but filling my pink cup to the top anyway. When I turn, Ben is behind me, holding out his green monster. I take it, trying not to notice when our fingers brush together.

“Okay. Then I’m
not
sorry. Somebody needs to remind Gemma that most of us are living in a different world.”

I fill his cup, searching for the right words. “You always stand up for people?”

“Not all people,” he says, taking his drink, but making no move to return to our spot on the floor. “Just the ones I don’t think can stand up for themselves.”

“
I
can stand up for myself.” I look up into his eyes, willing him to believe me. He doesn’t have to pity me, or Ariel.

“Yeah, I know.” He moves closer, until I can feel the warmth of him through the T-shirt and sweatpants I threw on for rehearsal. “But you don’t. Why?”

I hold his gaze—and my breath—as he takes a drink of his wine, his throat working the chilled liquid down. He licks his lips, and I fight to swallow.

“I’m not into conflict. And Gemma is my only friend.”

“So you just let her walk all over you? I don’t think that’s really you.” He narrows his eyes, as if he can see through my borrowed skin to my deepest, darkest secret. “I think there’s a fighter in you, Mermaid. I was watching you from offstage today. I wouldn’t ever want you to look at me the way you look at Dylan.”

“I never would,” I whisper. “Unless …”

“Unless what?”

“Unless you break my best friend’s heart.”

Ben’s lips press together, but his gaze doesn’t waver from mine. “I don’t know what she’s told you, but there is nothing going on between me and Gemma. Not in that way. We’re friends. I think maybe she wanted it to be more for a little while, but—”

“But you love her.” What is he saying? Is he out of his mind?

His eyebrows lift. “I do?”

Anxiety tightens my chest. How can he not realize he’s in love? His aura is even rosier than it was the day before. “You
know
you do.”

“I don’t. I’ve never been in love.” He pauses, considering me too carefully. “Have you?”

“I don’t matter.”

“Really?” He leans into me, until I can smell the wine sweet on his breath.

“Really.” My heart beats faster, slamming in my chest.

“You do matter,” he says, voice soft. “You matter to me.”

B
ut I—I’m not—” I stumble over my words and fall into the first question that crosses my mind. “What happened when you were arrested? Why did you hit that guy?”

Ben doesn’t blink. “He was beating up his girlfriend. Right in front of their house, where everybody in the neighborhood could see. No one else came out to stop it, so I did.”

I should have known. He was coming to the rescue, as usual.

“I called the police, but I didn’t think they would get there in time. She was pregnant. I’d seen her at the mailboxes a few times.…” He shakes his head, sadness on his face for this woman he barely knows. “She seemed so excited about the
baby, even though her
pedazo de mierda
boyfriend was the father.” He takes a drink of his wine, letting the silence wrap around us as he swallows. “Is that love, do you think?” he asks, sounding genuinely curious. “Being crazy about someone no matter how much they hurt you?”

“You know it’s not.”

“I don’t,” he says, shaking his head. “I’ve never seen it, not the way I imagine. Not even my brother and sister-in-law. He’d never hurt her, but he doesn’t love her the way he should. He doesn’t tell her everything he’s thinking, doesn’t look at her like she’s the best thing that ever happened to him.”

“Ben …” My heart squeezes in my chest, a beautiful ache that makes it even harder to breathe. I want to cup his sad face in my hands and tell him how glad I am that he really
is
a knight in shining armor, and a romantic, even if he doesn’t know it. I want to tell him he’s special and promise him he’ll find someone who will love him the way he imagines.

But I can’t promise that, not when his soul mate is Gemma. A girl with mood swings that make roller coasters seem tame, a mean streak, and a family biased against him, and who—at the moment—seems more preoccupied with potato chips than his feelings. And not when I’ve seen so many things that have weakened my own faith in love and happily-ever-after.

“They dropped the battery charge and let me off with counseling and twenty hours of community service, but …” He shrugs. “I guess you probably still think I’m a thug or something.”

“No, you’re … good.” I reach out, unable to resist the urge to touch him. I scratch a bit of white paint off his arm, fingers
lingering on his warm skin. His hand whispers along my cheek. My lips part and the smallest sound escapes, a barely audible betrayal of the way his touch makes me feel.

“Good enough for you to tell me the truth?” he asks.

For a moment, I think he means the
real
truth—my truth, not Ariel’s—and something inside me thrills at the idea. To tell Ben my real name, my real thoughts, the real things “I Never” and the things that I have …

I want him to know me. Even though it’s impossible. Dangerous.

“Why were you so upset yesterday?” he asks. “Was it because of Dylan?”

Dylan. The spark inside me dies. It always comes back to Romeo, to the miserable half-life he condemned us both to so long ago. I shake my head, trying to hold my sadness in, to bury it deep. “No. It was just a bad day.”

“Please, tell me the truth,” Ben whispers. “It’s been driving me crazy. Every time I see Dylan in class he gives me this sick smile.” His jaw clenches, and for a moment I see violence shimmer beneath his skin, see the face of the boy who broke a man’s nose with his fists. “It’s like he’s got some kind of horrible secret.”

“Who’s got secrets?” Gemma asks.

Ben and I turn to find her standing a few feet away, watching us. I’m suddenly very aware that Ben’s hand still hovers near my cheek. We shouldn’t be standing so close, he shouldn’t be touching me, I shouldn’t be so conscious of his heat, his smell, his energy threading into mine.

Shouldn’t. Shouldn’t. Shouldn’t
. I’m breaking all the rules, even the ones I’ve sworn never to break. Whether he’s ready
to admit it or not, Ben is in love with Gemma. But that doesn’t mean he can’t find another girl tempting, the same way countless women have been tempted from their true loves by Romeo. With a look. A touch. A soft word.

No, you’re … good
.

Panic floods through me, burning away the rush I felt at Ben’s touch. I duck my head, setting my cup on the edge of the vat as I slip away just in time, just seconds before another silhouette appears in the darkness behind Gemma.

“Ooo, I love secrets.” Romeo ambles out into the light. I brace myself, waiting for Gemma to ask him what the hell he’s doing here, to demand that he leave. Instead, she reaches into her bag, grabs a chip, and pops it into her mouth.

“Dylan snuck through the gate again,” she says around a mouthful, as if this isn’t a big deal, as if she didn’t spend the entire car ride yesterday telling me that Dylan should be avoided at all costs. “Since he was already lurking by the door like a freak, I told him he might as well get a drink.”

Romeo smiles and I feel Ben prickle beside me in response. “That’s me. A freak for wine and secrets.” His eyes shift to Ben, and when he speaks there’s a challenge in his voice. “So come on, Benjamin. Tell all.
¡Cuéntame todo el chisme!
”

“Since when do you speak Spanish?” Gemma turns to Dylan, lifting an eyebrow.

“Since when are you two friends?” I ask, unable to help myself. This can’t be happening. Gemma hates Dylan, and that’s the way it should stay!

“We’re not. He just comes over on the rare occasion when I don’t want to drink alone.” Gemma’s eyes meet mine, but the girl I sang and danced with last night, the girl I’ve laughed
with all afternoon, is gone. She’s cold, guarded, and obviously angry.

Probably because she saw that loaded moment between Ben and me.

But that moment doesn’t change the fact that she’s lied to me—to Ariel—about her relationship with Dylan. Or the fact that she’s invited him to join us when she knows my date with him was a horrible experience. She’s thoughtless at best, mean-spirited and selfish at worst, and I want so much better for Ben. I want a generous, funny, sensitive girl who will treasure his love as her most priceless possession.

But I have Gemma. And I have to make this work or Romeo will win and someone will die.

But how to fix this?
How?
When Ben doesn’t think he’s in love, Gemma is angry and welcoming Romeo in her front door, and I’ve done nothing but put temptation in Ben’s path that never should have been there. How to reverse the damage I’ve done? How to—

“That’s Ariel’s cup,” Ben says as Romeo reaches the wine tank and grabs my discarded pink monster.

“That’s okay. I’ve already got Ariel’s germs.” Romeo winks at me and takes a long, slow pull from the glass and I have my answer.

If Ariel is with Dylan, Ben will turn his attention back to Gemma where it belongs. And if Romeo is busy with me—working on that spell he’s so desperate to cast—he won’t have time to spend with Gemma, to get her drunk and spin tales of how wonderful immortality can be if she’ll only sacrifice Ben to the Mercenary cause.

The decision is made, even though the thought of what I’m
about to do makes my flesh crawl. “Yeah. You probably do have my germs.” I cross to Romeo, stopping only inches from where he’s slouched against the wine tank. “But let’s make sure. Just in case.”

For a second, Romeo is thrown, his unshakable confidence wavering in the wake of my unexpected response. I try to enjoy that small victory as I wrap my fingers around the back of his neck and pull him to me, meeting his cold lips with mine. His mouth curves into a smile for a moment before he tosses his cup to the floor, wraps his arms tight around my waist, and kisses me like the world is ending and this is the last, breathless magic either of us will ever know.

His hands roam over the curve of my hip and his tongue slips between my teeth. I do my best not to gag, to pretend I’m enjoying this, to ignore the fact that being this close to Romeo makes me want to scream. To ignore the fact that Ben is watching, and that his soft sound of disgust makes me want to cry. For me. For him. For what can never, ever be.

“Well, well.
There’s
a secret.” Gemma sounds almost as repulsed as I feel. I pull my mouth from Romeo’s, shifting my eyes to her, though I stay in Romeo’s arms. “I think I’m going to go now. Ben, you coming?”

“Definitely. I’m definitely coming.”

I turn to look at him, and it’s all I can do not to burst into tears. The mixture of pain and disappointment, anger and despair, on his face cuts a hole in my heart deeper than the one Romeo put there with his knife. Ben looks so completely betrayed that I want to beg him to stay, confess that the kiss meant nothing and that I never would have touched Dylan if it weren’t the only way to save Ben’s life, a life that is impossibly precious to me after only two days.

But I can’t say any of those things. Instead, I press closer to Romeo, twining an arm around his waist. This is what’s best for Ben. Now he can write me off and turn his attention back to Gemma.

“Cool,” Gemma says. “We can go hang out in the stables. I’ll borrow the trainer’s truck to take you home later.” She digs into her pocket for her car keys and throws them at my and Romeo’s feet. “You two can take my car out the back gate. I’ll come back and erase the gate security tape after you’re gone.”

I meet her eyes, and the anger there makes me flinch. I didn’t expect my kissing Dylan to make her even angrier. Her relationship with Ben is my top priority, but I don’t want to ruin things between her and Ariel. “Wait, Gemma,” I say. “Don’t be mad. We wanted to tell you, but—”

She holds up a hand. “I don’t want to talk about this now. Okay? Will you just go? You can park the car in front of the Windmill tomorrow morning. I’ll get my mom to drop me off there before she goes to work.” She turns and reaches a hand out to Ben. He takes it and holds on, following her through the discarded monster cups littering the concrete, making my spirits rise and my stomach plummet at the same time. I ignore my stomach. This is what has to happen. I have no other choice.

I stay in Romeo’s arms until Ben and Gemma disappear down one shadowed row, then put my hands on his chest and shove. He lets me go with a laugh. “I guess this means you’ve changed your mind about loving me.”

“Hardly.” I grab the keys from the ground. “But I won’t let you win this one.”