Rain 01 When It Rains (13 page)

“Will you talk to me?” he asks, carefully rubbing his hands up and down my back.

I shake my head against his chest. Just because I’ll let him see me like this, doesn’t mean I’m ready to let him hear about the ugly demons that live inside me. He holds me against his body until I’ve calmed down enough that my body stops shaking.

He takes a step back, but wraps his hands around my elbows to keep me close. “I think now would be a good time to tell you my fact for the day. I’ve been with my share of girls, but you are by far the most complicated, frustrating one. Yet, for some reason, I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“I’m not with you,” I say, shaking my head.

He swallows, briefly looking away from my eyes. “I know.”

For the first time, it hits me. The reason my heart was on fire when I saw him with his fingers in Becca’s hair, and the reason I’m so frustrated . . . is the reason I came here today. I want his fingers caressing my hair.

And right now as I stare at his lips, I want to feel those too.

I’m jealous.

“What is Becca to you?” I ask, trying my best to hide the bitterness in my voice.

He glances up at the clear blue sky before his eyes find my face again. “She’s lived next door for as long as I can remember. When I was younger and I visited my dad, we used to have lots of fun together. She’s just an old friend.”

“Do you like her?”

He pinches his eyes shut, shaking his head. “Not the way you think. She came over here, and I thought I could get lost in her . . . to forget you. It didn’t work, in case you’re wondering.”

“You looked pretty content when I walked around the house,” I say, shuffling my feet in the gravel until a layer of dust comes up.

“I was just trying to have fun,” he says, reaching up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind my ear. He removes his finger slowly, letting it brush behind my ear. I instinctively close my eyes and feel the warm tingle that runs down the length of my body. It’s amazing what one little touch can do.

When I open my eyes, I see the difference in the way he looks at me and the way I saw him looking at Becca. He was being playful with her, but when I look into his stormy blue eyes, I see desire, need and pain. He’s letting me see things that he isn’t showing others. I want to help him with whatever he’s hiding. I think maybe we can even help each other.

I lick my lips, noticing how his eyes immediately focus in on them. “I think it’s time for me to give you my fact for the day,” I say softly, bringing his eyes back up to mine.

“And what’s that?”

I pause and take a deep breath. “I want you to kiss me.”

The one hand that still remains on my elbow tightens and his eyes flash back and forth between mine. There’s an internal struggle inside of him; I can feel it . . . see it.

“Are you sure?” he finally asks.

I nod. “As sure as I’ve ever been about anything.”

“If I kiss you now, there’s no going back,” he says, swallowing hard.

I hadn’t thought past the kiss, but right now I’d do anything to feel his lips on mine. I nod.

He drops my arm, closing the distance between our bodies and putting his hands on either side of my head. When I feel his warm breath against my lips, I know it won’t be much longer. And when it finally happens, I close my eyes, letting myself feel his skin on mine and every emotion that flows through my head.

His lips are soft and gentle, barely touching mine at first, but growing more primal when he sucks my bottom lip between his. And when I grip the front of his shirt in my hands, he runs his tongue along my lips, coaxing mine open for him. I follow his lead, letting his tongue tangle with mine. I’ve only kissed two boys in my whole life if I don’t count the one who just took it from me when I pleaded with him not to.

Some kisses are just kisses, but Asher’s kiss is the best kind of kiss. It feels like heaven, and I never want to let him go. I feel like I’ve been living the last two years for this moment . . . for someone to save me. It’s a new beginning for me.

He slows his movement before pulling away and ending it with one more soft brush against my lips. I want to grab him and pull him close again, but I’m frozen in place.

“That was so fucking sweet,” he says, resting his forehead against mine.

I smile, swaying my body back and forth. He’s being modest. That kiss was out of this world.

“Asher, can you help me with the groceries?” I hear a deep male voice yell from behind me.

“Shit,” Asher mutters, pulling back from me. I instantly miss the contact. “Yeah, Dad. I’ll be there in a second.” He looks back down at me with a grin on his face. I know what he’s thinking because I’m thinking the same thing. We need to do that again. Soon. “I’ll be right back.”

The sun shines brightly in the sky, glistening on the dark blue water. I place my hand above my eyes to get a better look at the view. This week has been crazy, but I have a better appreciation for everything around me while a hundred thoughts swim through my head. I do know that I want to explore this with him and see where it takes me. Something about the way he looks at me tells me he’s safe. I don’t think he would ever intentionally hurt me, but I’m still treading cautiously.

After several minutes have passed, I walk to the front of the house to see if they need my help. There’s an old red Ford truck sitting next to Asher’s car, but I don’t see anyone outside. I walk to the front screen door, but stop when I hear Asher yelling.

“I don’t have to tell her!”

“What are you going to do? Just string her along until you can’t anymore?” his father shouts.

“It’s not like that!” Asher yells.

I have a sinking feeling in my stomach. I shouldn’t be eavesdropping on their conversation, but I can’t stop myself, not when I think he might say something that will help me piece him together.

“You’re just going to end up hurting her. Is that what you want?”

“It’s my fucking life. Please just let me live it!” Asher screams.

I hear what sounds like a chair sliding against a hard floor and step back from the door. Was he talking about me? Or Becca? And what does he mean by stringing her along until he can’t anymore?

I’m not sure what to do, but I don’t feel like I’m welcome company anymore. I’m about ready to turn on my heels and run home when the screen door flies open and Asher steps out. His face is red, and he’s in such a hurry that he almost walks right past me. I’m used to dealing with pissed off Beau, but I’ve never seen Asher like this.

“I’ll give you a ride home,” he calls from behind. His mood has switched so much that it’s almost scary.

I follow him to the Mustang, but stop in front of it instead of moving to the passenger side. “I was going to run back home. Don’t worry about it.”

“Get in the car,” he demands, opening the driver’s side door to stand between it and the car. His voice has gone as cold as an Iowa winter, but I don’t let it affect me. He’s struggling with whatever it is his father thinks he should tell me. I want to know what it is so badly, but I’m not going to push him.

I take a few steps in his direction, holding my right hand out. “Let me have your keys.”

“Why?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Because you don’t look like you should be driving right now,” I reply, taking a few steps closer.

He laughs. “And you think I’m going to let you drive my car?” Actually that thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. My plan was to convince him to take a walk down by the lake, but now that he mentioned it . . .

“What’s so funny about that?” I ask, stopping right in front of him.

“I never let anyone drive my car,” he replies. It’s like he’s daring me to ask again. He should know how I feel about dares by now.

I tilt my head and pull my lower lip between my teeth, not missing the way his lips quirk. “It’s only a mile. How much damage can I really do?”

His smile falls and his lips part like he wants to say something.

He shuts the door, dropping his keys in my hand as he walks by. I roll them around on my finger once before opening the driver’s door and climbing in. Asher settles into the passenger seat with his elbow resting on the top of the window jam and his head resting against his closed fist.

I start the car and glance down only to see it’s a stick shift. I hate driving manuals. They made us do it one day in Driver’s Ed, and I thought I was going to die . . . it’s a good thing our town doesn’t have many stop signs. I feel like I’m an inch tall because I convinced Asher to let me drive and now I don’t even know how to put it in gear.

“Umm, Asher, I don’t know how to drive stick shift. I mean, I do, but I really don’t,” I confess, scrunching my nose up at him.

He shakes his head, and the faintest of smiles plays on his lips. “Well, you wanted to drive this thing, so it looks like you’re going to get a quick lesson on manual transmissions.”

Crap.

“Okay, but if I break your car, it’s not my fault. I’ve warned you,” I say, adjusting the rearview mirror.

“First, put it into gear then press on the clutch and the break. Don’t take your feet off until I tell you to. Now, carefully remove your foot from the brake and put it on the gas while easing up on the clutch.” I do exactly as he instructs, and after two tries we’re finally moving forward. “Now, pull up in the yard a little bit and then make a circle toward the road.”

The one mile drive took over fifteen minutes, but it was worth it. I don’t remember the last time I laughed so hard, even if Asher didn’t find my eighteen stalls funny. When he instructs me on how to turn it off and put it in park, I think we both breathe a sigh of relief.

“Thanks for taking my mind off my dad,” he states out of the blue. My driving skills must have done the trick.

“I’m glad I could help you for once.”

“Do you work tomorrow?” he asks.

“Yeah, my normal seven to two,” I reply, turning to face him.

“Maybe I’ll come see you,” he says, running his tongue across his lower lip. It drives me crazy when he does that.

“I’d like that.” I smile, turning to walk toward the front door. I’m ready to put this whole day behind me and see what tomorrow brings.

“Hey, Kate,” Asher yells from behind me. I stop, looking back at him.

“Yeah?”

The corners of his mouth turn up; showcasing the smile I’ve been missing since he walked out of the lake house after talking to his dad. “I just thought you should know that you’re the best first kiss I’ve ever had.”

He winks at me before jumping into his driver’s seat and disappearing down the street leaving me standing there with my fingertips on my lips. It was my best first kiss too.

T
HE
NEXT
MORNING
, I find regret stirring deep inside of me. Not because I kissed Asher, but because of what did or didn’t happen afterward. I should have asked him about the things his father said. I should have asked him what was bothering him on the ride back to my house, but I didn’t. Maybe I was just scared of the truth, but now I’m lying here in my bed wondering what the truth is and what was going through Asher’s mind after. It’s making me insane.

I let a mysterious and seemingly complicated guy into my life but trying to figure him out is taking my mind off of all of my own problems. I want to ask him about all of the things that make him tick, but then what if he expects the same from me? And what if I can’t handle his demons?

When I was a kid, I couldn’t wait to grow up, but now I know it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.

I’ve been stuck in time at age seventeen for the past two years. My life didn’t end in a literal sense that night . . . I’m still breathing, but time is at a complete standstill. I didn’t feel like anything spectacular before, but now I don’t even feel ordinary. I don’t know where to go from here. It’s not that I want to live with my mom and work in a diner forever . . . I just don’t see much of a future for myself.

Everything I thought I knew about life has been proven wrong. I can’t trust people just because I know their name. I have to learn to stand on my own two feet so that I can take the challenges life presents head on.

How? I’m still trying to figure that out. Sometimes it’s easier to live in the misery than to crawl out of it. When I’m with Asher, I want to try. He’s holding my hand a little tighter each day as I do things I haven’t let myself do in a really long time. It gives me a little strength I didn’t have before, and it’s giving me a glimpse of what my life could be if I learn to let go of some of my anger and guilt. I owe it to myself to at least try.

When I finally roll out of bed, there’s only twenty minutes before I have to be at work. I quickly shower, deciding to let my hair dry into natural waves. I’m out the door in my red Bonnie’s shirt and faded blue jeans with five minutes to spare. The air is starting to get a little cooler with each passing day; it won’t be long until I’m trading t-shirts for sweaters and a coat.