Lovely (3 page)

Mom walks in with my favorite morning smile on her face, the one that says she’s optimistic and ready for whatever life throws her way. Her raven hair dances along the nape of her neck, her heels clicking happily along the tile floor. She’s smartly dressed in a tan skirt, a green blouse that brings out the emerald of her eyes, and some sort of designer shoes. Women and their shoes, I’ll never understand it. Owning a trendy salon in Los Angeles keeps her pretty busy, although she tries to be around for us as much as possible. She takes the special coffee cup I left out for her, the one we made eight years ago at the local pottery shop with all of our names on it. “Morning,” she enthuses, pouring some coffee from the pot. “Where’s Colt?”

Delilah talks with a mouthful of pancake and spits some in the air. “Grumpkin left already,” she giggles.

“Who?” Mom asks, her brows knitting together, confusion overtaking her pretty face.

I take another forkful of pancake. “It’s Colt’s new nickname.”

Mom’s used to our banter and lets out a happy sigh as she walks toward the sink. “Oh.”

Since Dad died, the three of us have been her life, for better or for worse. As difficult as it is for me to think about her with another man, there are times when I wish she had that companionship.

I shovel my pancake in and look over at my sister. “Delilah, are you about ready? I want to get to class a bit early today.”

Shock forces its way out of Mom’s magnetic green eyes. “Since when do you want to get to class early?”

“Well, I need to work on my Econ paper …” and I think there’s something I need in the library.

Delilah grabs her backpack and Mom gives us both a kiss before we head out. I slide in behind the steering wheel, noting Delilah’s glazed expression as she stares at the gray colonial with black shutters and a wraparound porch that has been our home since we were born. The bushes and trees are finely manicured and a white fence surrounds the property.

I take in her profile and the sentimental grin making the side of her lip quiver. “What are you thinking about, baby girl?”

She points a finger toward the house. “I was just remembering helping Dad outside while he was trimming the bushes, the radio blasting to that oldies station he loved, his voice so loud it carried through the neighborhood. I miss that … hearing him sing.” She sighs. “All I did was stand there holding that silly plastic bag open for him, but he always made me feel like I had the most important job in the world.”

I reach across the seat and give her hand a soft squeeze, recalling those happy times. “Yeah, I know.”

Starting the ignition, I tear out of the driveway and down the cul-de-sac. Delilah scrunches up her nose in disapproval. She thinks I drive like a daredevil.
Yeah, right
. Probably the only one in Glendale.

On the way to school, she raises the volume on the radio, and I proceed to lower it.

“Hey,” she mutters, “I was listening to that.”

I hesitate for a split second. “I … I wanted to ask you something.”

She turns and gives me her full attention. “Yeah, what?”

“Do you know that girl in the student library?”

Delilah takes a piece of gum out of a foil wrapper and pops it in her mouth. “What girl?”

I chew on the inside of my lip. “You know … the one that checks out the books? I’ve never seen her before.”

Recognition hits her immediately. “Oh, you mean Cara Hayward?”

Cara. A pretty name for a pretty girl. “You know her? What’s her deal?”

She blows a giant bubble and pops it with her finger. “Yeah. She transferred here middle of last year. She tutors a friend of mine in my creative writing class. Why do you want to know?”

“Just answer the question, Delilah.”

She chews on her gum like a cow grazing in a field. “I don’t know. She’s kind of weird, or shy … or something. I never see her with anyone. She’s a bit of a loner. Wait a minute, Ash, if you’re thinking you’re gonna get in her pants, think again.”

“For fuck’s sake, Delilah, that’s not all I think about.”

She arches a brow. “Oh no? This is
me
you’re talking to.”

I grip the steering wheel and blow out a breath. “Okay, well, not
all
the time.”

“Yeeeeaaah,” she jeers, then turns the music back up and moves her head in time with the beat of Maroon 5.

Cara
. I like the way it rolls off my tongue.

The campus parking lot’s packed when we get to school; as usual. No sooner have I opened my door when Shelby has her arms wrapped around my neck and her tongue down my throat. Considering the way I woke up this morning, I forget where we are for just a minute. It feels pretty good, so I grab her ass and deepen the kiss.

“Now, that’s more like it,” she tempts as she trails her hand down my chest and strokes my cock through my jeans. “I want you,” she whispers, her hot breath filling my ear.

Delilah screws up her face in disgust. “Ugh. Get a room!” she shouts and stalks off.

I remove Shelby’s hand from my crotch. “Can we meet up later? I have to get to class.”

“I thought your first class doesn’t start until ten? How about we take a ride? I know there’s something
I’d
like to ride,” she suggests with a breathy voice.

I clear my throat and adjust myself in my jeans. “Oh, yeah, well, I can’t. I have some studying I need to do.”

She sets her hands on her hips and her lips harden. “Ash, what’s going on with you? Twice now you’ve rejected me, and I don’t like it.”

Now that I’ve got a raging hard-on, I need to find some way to relieve it. “Okay, listen. Do you want to come by tonight? My mom’s going out …”

She doesn’t hesitate, her light blue eyes devouring me in one gulp. “Yes.”

I turn to walk away and look back over my shoulder at her. “Okay, come by around eight.”

She air blows a kiss in my direction. “Oh, I’ll be coming alright.”

Yup … Shelby’s a real charmer.

Four tests plus one brain freeze later, oh, and add to that the excitement provided by Professor Travinski, my English 202 teacher about our upcoming section on poetry, and the day has finally come to an end. I’m still kicking myself for procrastinating on taking this class requirement until now. I’m the only senior and I suck at English, but I either take it or I don’t graduate.

I push this annoying thought out of my head and trudge to the library so I can study. Delilah told me that Cara’s always there early in the morning and late in the day.

The black-rimmed glasses are there to greet me when I walk in, but no eyes to go along with them. Cara’s head is again buried in books; stacking, sorting, and whatever else she does behind that counter. My brain’s trying to conjure up some way I can get her to talk to me, but I’m coming up short. I tap my foot quietly.
Ah, I’ve got it
. Running my hands through my hair, I walk up to the counter.

“Hi, I’m wondering if you can help me.”

She’s thumbing through some pages with no indication she’ll pay me any mind. “What do you need?” she asks, completely engrossed in her book.

I’d like to see your eyes, if you must know
. “I’m trying to find some books on Economics.”

Without looking up, she lifts her slender finger and points it to the right. “They’d be over there, third shelf from the bottom.”

I take my sorry ass over to the other side of the library and expel a harsh breath as I slump down in the chair. I might as well do some work, because this obviously isn’t going how I planned. As I delve into Modern Economics, my eyelids begin to flutter closed. Just as I feel a good doze coming on, a hand taps lightly on my shoulder. Looking up, I see Cara standing next to the table with a book and an awkward smile.

She looks right through me as she speaks. “I found this on the floor. Is it yours?” Her small, delicate hand reaches out and places a charm down gently on the table. It’s a small, polished silver heart with the word
believe
imprinted on it.

“Wow, it is. Thank you.” Mom gave it to me for my twelfth birthday and I carry it with me always.

“Sure.” Her eyes immediately drift to her feet and she turns to walk away.

As she heads back toward the shelves of books, I call out to her, “wait!”

She spins around, her lavender dress and shiny brown locks twirling right along with her. I push back my chair, walk over to her, and extend my hand. “I’m Ash Taylor.”

Her eyes make their way up, but stop. I think she’s staring at my nose. “C-Cara Hayward,” she stammers with a voice of uncertainty or disinterest, I’m not sure which one.

“Nice to meet you, Cara, and thanks. That charm means a lot to me; I appreciate you finding it.”

Her eyes focus anywhere but on me, as she tugs a strand of her hair. “No problem.”

I chuckle as I walk back over to the table. All that effort to get her to notice me, and it’s almost like some other force made it happen. My mom. But then again, Mom’s always making good things happen for me. I toss the Econ book in my backpack and slide my coat on. As I scan the library, I notice that Cara and I are the only ones left. I look over and see her putting a jean jacket over her voluptuous frame, those coffee-colored waves cascading down her back.

I sense her behind me as I make my way to the door. She doesn’t say anything, so I don’t either, but I do walk rather slowly. Gone are the days when I’d run out of the library. Now I want to bathe in there, settle myself in a nice, cozy chair and just gaze at those delicious brown eyes and creamy skin. She bumps into me; I must’ve stopped short in my foggy haze of thought.

Her eyes climb from the ground to my nose again as she mutters, “Oh, sorry.”

“No problem,” I reply, “it was actually my fault.”

Our feet are moving together in the same direction, the one leading us out of the building. It’s almost as if we’re walking next to one another, but we’re really not. She seems anxious, her feet moving along at a rapid pace, and the only thing I’m anxious to do is follow her. I can’t figure out why, because I know tonight Shelby will be in my bed, but that doesn’t seem to matter right now. Nothing else does, besides her.

When we get to the door, I stand aside to hold it open and notice the raindrops pounding the pavement. She hesitates, and I cast her a questioning look. “Do you have an umbrella?”

She stands there biting her lip apprehensively. “No.”

I take off my coat. “Come on,” I tell her. I hold the coat over both of us and we make a break for it. I start laughing, and surprisingly, so does she. “This is crazy rain,” I remark, my mouth filling with water and my eyes blurring from the heavy downpour.

“I love the rain,” she replies as delightful giggles escape her lips. The rain seems to relax her, setting her free in some way.

“Which car is yours?” I have to shout over the force of the drops now falling on our heads.

“The brown Honda.”

The one that matches her eyes
.

When we finally make it to her car, we find that my coat was little protection, as we’re both sopping wet. She leans down to unlock the door and her glasses fall to the ground. She scrambles nervously, and I can’t figure out why. I get to them first and pick them up, the lenses beading with water. She continues to keep her head down, and not just from the rain, I’m starting to realize. The clouds continue to bombard us, but suddenly I can’t feel anything except for the racing of my own heart through the drenched fabric of my shirt. I raise my index finger to lift her wet chin. Her eyes are on mine, suddenly reaching out to me with an expectant stare. The next words fly from my lips without hesitation.

“Don’t ever look down. Someone so beautiful should always be looking up.”

Even with the rain coming down hard, her hair drenched, and droplets of the sky’s fury surrounding us, her face has changed. I see a tiny sparkle of something in the rich, brown depth of her eyes. Her lips begin to form a smile, but then almost think better of it. She grabs her glasses. “Thank you,” she mumbles quickly, then hops in her car, starts the engine, and disappears.

I’m left standing there, completely bewildered.
What the hell just happened
?

By the time I arrive home, I’m completely soaked, my body shaking from the cold. I pull into the driveway, cut the engine, and sit there replaying the parking lot over and over in my head. There’s something about that girl … and those eyes. It sounds fucking ridiculous, I know, but I can’t get her out of my head.

Tapping on the window interrupts my thoughts and I look up to see Shelby standing there, drenched and reminiscent of a drowned rat. I check the time on my watch; it’s only six so I can’t figure out what she’s doing here. Opening the door, I step out and drag her to the porch to get us some cover. “What are you doing here, Shelby? I told you to come by at eight.”

“I couldn’t wait,” she whines anxiously, moving her matted hair out of her eyes.

“I’m not sure who’s here, Shelby.” I glance down at her rain-soaked tank top and notice that her nipples are rock hard and my cock seems to be having the same response.
Well, maybe it’s good she’s a bit early
. I fiddle for the keys to unlock the door and Shelby takes the opportunity to reach around and rub my crotch. I swat her hand away. “Jesus, Shelby. Hold on, my mom might be in there.”

“I can’t help it, Ash. I want your cock inside of me, like, right now.”

When I push open the door, the house is dark. “Mom, you here?!” I call out. “Colt? Delilah?” There’s nothing but silence in return. I pull Shelby up the stairs, both of us dripping water all over the rug. I throw open the door to my room and quickly make sure to lock it behind us.

As soon as the door closes, Shelby pounces. Her persistent tongue is in my mouth before I have a chance to utter a word; her hands grab at my ass, traveling greedily up and down my body like she’s starving and I’m the last morsel of food on the planet. I anxiously whip her cotton tank over her head, and she unhooks her bra, exposing those firm, round nipples that are like a magnet to my mouth. I roll my tongue around them, licking, sucking, and biting until she’s crying out for more, her head falling back and loud moans leaving her mouth.