Love Me for Me (3 page)

Being able to do this on command now was a triumph, one that I never took for granted.

I held the posture until my body shook, sneaking glances at my student along the way. She was in the posture, but looked like she was about to wobble out of control.

Lowering myself back to my feet, I stood and made my way to her. I pressed a hand to the base of her spine and to the flat of her belly, my intention to guide her positioning, something that was common enough in a yoga class.

Though she said nothing, her body jerked in what seemed to be irritation, landing her back on her knees. I might have been imagining it, but I thought I saw a flicker of hostility in her eyes, followed by uncertainty.

I was taken aback, and leaned away, holding up my hands.

“Sorry.” I wasn’t going to protest—I of all people was sensitive to other people’s aversion to being touched. “I was just trying to help you position your spine. It will help you into the posture, and from there you can work on your breathing.”

Maddy looked up, looked right at me for a moment, and there was that hint of hostility again, but with it was a healthy dose of curiosity. I thought it was strange, given that Maddy was usually so friendly, and that we normally had a good rapport, but still wasn’t sure what to make of it.

After an uneasy moment in which we simply stared at one another, she nodded jerkily, as if she had made up her mind about something.

“All right.” She nodded, assenting to my touch. “Again.”

I let her move into the posture, and only when she seemed somewhat sturdy did I adjust. Gratification washed over me when a grim smile creased her lips, and her breath began to calm.

I moved back to my own mat, wiping my forehead with the back of my hand. I lay down and relaxed into corpse pose, the way that every class ended. I heard the movement when Maddy did the same, and again when she rose and began to gather her things.

I took longer, not sure what to make of her behaviour during class. When I finally rose and began to roll up my own mat, I found her standing at the door, a long black pea coat over her yoga gear, her hands stuffed into her pockets.

“Thanks.” That was all she said before she left the room, and I found myself staring after her, puzzled, as I chugged from my water bottle.

Something was on her mind, and though I couldn’t have been sure, instinct told me it had something to do with me. I frowned as my mind instantly tried to take me back to high school, back to the time when I had acted out in what I now knew was a plea for my mother to sit up and see what the hell was going on in my world.

Trying to hold on to the peace from my workout, I shook it off, then grabbed my own coat, a faded denim one that Kaylee threatened to burn at regular intervals.

Whatever was going on with Maddy, it was her problem, and probably had nothing to do with me anyway. I might have been forced to learn survival lessons at far too young an age, but they would serve me well now.

Take care of myself. In the end, that was really all I could do.

***

“Ohmigod.” I stood at the edge of the Deke house grounds with Kaylee, my feet frozen in place as I stared at the scene before me like it was a different planet and I was filming a documentary.

The house was yellow, and was guarded by two stone lions, one of whom was missing an ear. Okay, that was fine. I could handle that. A table was set up along the stone walkway, and two guys in their letters, guys cute enough that I could already see Kaylee sizing them up, were taking cover charge. The fact that only the men were charged—the girls got in for free—was somewhat unnerving, but still, I thought I could handle it.

The crush of people on the front porch, most of whom were holding red plastic cups, talking, laughing, was more worrisome.

What would I do if a person pressed against me in the crowd? If a stray hand brushed me where I didn’t want it? Would I scream, would I freeze up?

Closing my eyes, I ground my teeth together while counting down from ten in my head. When I opened them again, I found Kaylee’s caramel eyes, outlined in vivid blue liner, assessing me empathetically.

“Serena, it’s just a party, okay?” Her voice was gentle, but I could see from the press of her lips together that she was trying to give me some tough love. “Just... just
try
to relax a bit, okay?”

I bit back the retort that was at the end of my tongue. Easy for her, I wanted to say. Easy for her, when she had no idea what lurked in my past.

But she had a point. If I wanted to break free of these chains that bound me, I needed to do it wholeheartedly.

“All right.” Finally I nodded, just the slightest jerk of my head. “Let’s get this over with.” A breeze raised the chill bumps on my arms, and I hugged them to my chest, missing the warmth of my flannel shirt.

I’d flatly refused the little purple dress that Kaylee had pulled from her closet and tried to get me into. She’d shrugged and put it on herself. She’d watched critically as I’d added mascara and a nude lip gloss, then pronounced myself ready.

I’d protested when she’d tried to tug my flannel shirt from my torso. After I’d all but stomped my foot, she’d rolled her eyes and allowed me to keep the jeans and the ribbed black tank top, but had pulled a sheer, cropped cardigan from her closet. Since I deliberately hid my upper arms at all times, I’d waited until her back was turned, then had slid off the flannel and put on the cardigan. She’d squealed with delight and added a matching pair of hop earrings, claiming the turquoise made my eyes “pop”.

Now, as we walked up to the house, I felt naked all over again, with the eyes of frat boys assessing Kaylee and myself—mostly Kaylee.

“Don’t sound too excited.” My roommate’s voice was dry, and she arched an eyebrow at me. I bit my lip in return.

I knew I was being a pill. I just didn’t know how to act any differently.

Trying to make a joke of it, I scowled overdramatically.

“I’m supposed to be excited? Isn’t this just an elaborate mating ritual in disguise?” I gestured with my head to the couple that occupied the sagging, faded red couch on the porch. She was straddling his lap, his hand was up her skirt, and they ground their pelvises together while slobbering wetly.

Kaylee grinned. “Totally. That’s why we’re here.” Then, like a steamboat that I was chained to, she pulled me through the door, and into the crowd so quickly that I didn’t even have time to panic.

She didn’t stop until we were at a table manned by more guys in Greek letters. They were ladling something neon red that smelled vaguely like fruit into those red plastic cups that everyone had.

“We’ll get you a drink. One of these and you’ll relax.” Kaylee shouted over the music, raising her hands in the air and doing a little shimmy. One of the frat boys hooted, and she winked at him saucily.

Truth was, it wasn’t nearly as bad as I’d expected. Kaylee had pulled me through the crowd so quickly that I hadn’t had time to panic, and even down here in the basement/ party room, no one was in my space.

At least, not too much.

“Here.” Kaylee handed me one of the plastic cups. I sniffed at it, wrinkling my nose.

“What is it?” I took a tentative sip. It was sweet, flavoured with artificial fruit, and felt thick as maple syrup going down my throat.

“It’s just punch, Serena. It’s not going to bite you.” Tilting her head back, Kaylee drained half of her cup, then waved at someone over my head.

“I’m going to go say hi to Joel.” Joel was her on-again, off-again boyfriend, and they were still friends. “Okay? You’ll be okay?”

I felt myself begin to tense up, but fought to control it. I’d done the hard part—I was here. I had a drink in my hand.

I wasn’t going to latch on to Kaylee and ruin her good time.

I smiled, a curve of the lips that was at least half genuine. “Go!” I didn’t recognize the song that was playing, but I did know that it was loud. “I’ll be right here.” And then she was off, shimmying across the dance floor in her little purple dress, drawing attention with her long fall of red hair, her equally long legs, and her mile wide smile.

I stayed where I was, taking cautious sips from my cup, and wondered. Wondered what it would be like to be that carefree, that able to let go and have fun.

From the corner of my eye I saw Kaylee waving at me frantically. I frowned, not sure what she was trying to communicate with her flailing arms, eye winks, and wide grin.

Then I felt the heat behind me, and I suddenly knew.

“Hey.” The voice was low, and I felt the warmth of it against my ear. I thought that I would tense, but I knew it was him before I turned, having played that voice over and over in my head for the last week.

“American Lit Girl.” He smiled at me, that delicious wide smile on that chiselled face, and I felt something fluttery begin to move in the depths of my belly.

“I have a name, you know.” I lifted my cup for another small sip, though I didn’t actually want it. “Not that you asked for it.”

I stared as soon as I’d spoken, wondering how on earth I’d gotten so bold. But he laughed, then pried the cup out of my fingers.

“I didn’t ask, Serena, because I already know it.” He leaned in to say this, close to my ear so that he could be heard without shouting.

A tremor ran through me.

“Why do you know my name?” Why had he even noticed me? No one noticed me, not anymore.

He arched his eyebrows at me. “I paid attention. Should I be hurt that you haven’t asked for mine?” I must have looked stricken, because he caught my hand in his and squeezed.

“I’m Alex.” He didn’t let go of my fingers, and I was acutely aware of the heat pulsing from his into mine.

“Um. Hi.” I wanted to smack myself. I was so socially inept. Kaylee had gotten all the charm in our dorm room.

"You don't want to drink that. Trust me." He took the cup from my hand and set it on a nearby table. He had to lean in close for me to hear him, and when he did I smelled shaving foam, soap, and the faintest hint of cologne.

"Maybe I wanted it." The flash of irritation I felt was burned away in a blast of heat when his eyes strayed to my breasts, outlined in the fitted tank top. He did it so quickly that I almost missed it... and rather than being offended, I felt myself responding, licking my suddenly dry lips.

The feeling I'd had when we'd studied at Daily Grind... I was right. He was attracted to me.

There was no question that I felt the same way,

"That's almost pure booze. You drink that entire cup and you won't even remember your own name." His stare was so intense that my mouth went dry. I ran my tongue over my lips to moisten it, and his eyes followed the gesture.

"It doesn't taste like booze. It tastes like sugar." The artificial sweetness still coated my tongue.

"It's vodka with an insane amount of juice crystals. It's mixed with the specific purpose of getting girls drunk." He raised an eyebrow at me. "You didn't think it was that strong, did you? This frat has it down to a science."

"Oh." I should have been more concerned about the fact that I'd been sips away from losing control, but when he looked at me like that, I couldn't think.

"Dance?" Startled by the request, I looked quickly over at Kaylee. She was giving me a very unsubtle thumbs up, and with only that to bolster my courage, I nodded before I could over think it.

Lacing his fingers through mine, he led me through the crush of people dancing to a song that seemed to be an ode to the plastic cups that everyone was drinking from.

He smiled at me when we found a space and he turned to face me. He kept his hold on my hand, but his other came to rest gently on the indentation of my waist. I had to swallow my gasp at the light press on my skin.

I'd been touched plenty, but never like this.

When he pressed those fingers into the dip of my waist a bit more firmly, I realized that I'd been standing still. I looked up at him wide eyed, feeling like a fish out of water.

The intensity in those navy eyes of his was my undoing. Squeezing my eyes shut, I let him lead me in a gentle sway as the upbeat song faded into something slower, with lyrics about loving someone until they learned to love themselves.

My pulse began to trip, pounding at the base of my throat, at my wrists.

Though his hands stayed on me, he didn't move any closer, didn't try to grind his pelvis into my own like so many of the others were doing. The fact that he didn't was more seductive than if he had. I soon forgot about trying to imitate the way the others danced, and moved the way he led me to. I was painfully aware of the thin ribbon of space between us, of the fact that one deep breath would bring my breasts against the solid muscles of his chest.

Not sure what to do with my free hand, I moved it into that sliver of room between us, splaying my fingers over his chest. He tensed beneath my fingers, and I looked up to find his eyes heavily lidded, his lips slightly parted.

The look told me that he wanted to kiss me. It told me that he wanted to do more. For the first time in years, I wanted the same thing, wanted it for the right reasons.

I worried my lower lip with my teeth, and his eyes followed the movement. Swallowing hard, I tilted my chin up and angled my head, leaving myself open for a kiss that I found I desperately wanted.

It didn't come. Warily, I looked through my lashes. His expression matched how I felt, tight with inexplicable need. But though he released my fingers to splay his hand over my spine, and my free hand landed on his hard, wide shoulder, he didn't make a move to press his lips to mine.

The hand on my back began to move, slowly, lazily, tracing the angel wings of my shoulder blades, the curve of my spine. Everywhere his fingers trailed, I blazed with heat. Something hot and needy was coiling deep in my belly, something I'd never felt before and that I didn't know what to do with.

As the last notes of the song played, his pelvis grazed mine, and I shuddered when I felt the evidence that his body was feeling exactly the same way that I was.

"Do you have your cell on you?" I was still waiting for his hands to move to the familiar places, to touch me in the way that boys did when they wanted that one, specific thing. Because I was waiting, it took a moment for me to comprehend his words. He chuckled as I scrambled in the tight pocket of my jeans for my phone, then handed it to him, my head tipped questioningly.