Slow Burn (5 page)

“Oh, shit,” Nick breathes, rubbing the back of his hea
d.  “Sorry!  Are you okay, Juliet?”

I notice him quickly scanning my chest—which reminds me of my wet shirt.  “No harm done,” I assur
e him, pulling my sticky shirt away from my body.

“Well, here.”  He stands up and peels his t-shirt off, revealing his tanned and toned physique.  “Put this on for now.”

“Thanks,” I say, surprised.  I quickly pull the shirt over my head, and shove my arms through the sleeves.  I catch the scent of something that reminds me of the beach and Nick’s cologne as the material glides over my nose.  The shirt goes down almost to my knees.  Sexy.

“Sit down, sit down,”
Mack urges, pushing me into the seat next to Nick.  “Juliet, you know most of these jokers.  Ben, Arianna, Jase, Ryan—Nick, of course.  And that’s Kara and Sloane.”

He points to Red, who glares at me.  Of course she’s
the
Kara.  Why am I even surprised.  She crosses her long tanned legs and looks me up and down with contempt.  I notice she’s not surprised at my identity.  She must’ve known who I was at the door.  Bitch.

The girl sitting next to Kara—Sloane—makes her look like a cheap wannabe.  She’s an exotic beauty, with thick black hair falling in silky waves across her shoulders, and framing her exquisite features.  Her
dark almond shaped eyes regard me coolly.  There’s no raw animosity on her face like there is on Kara’s.  She looks sort of puzzled, like she not sure why I’m standing there, sharing the same space with all these fabulous people.

Figures all o
f Johnny’s female friends are hot, and on the bitchy side.  No wonder he never wanted me to meet any of them. 

“I can’t believe you’re
Johnny’s girlfriend,” Kara says suddenly, smirking.  “What are you—twelve?  Do you have to use a stepstool to kiss him?”

“Shut up,
Kara,” Mack says mildly.  He shakes his head at her like she’s a naughty child.

“Yeah, don’t be j
ealous,” Ben adds, running a hand over his light blonde hair.  He winks at me.  “Short girls are incredibly hot.”  Arianna smacks him hard in the chest.  She’s at least 5’8”.

Kara definitely doesn’t like the fact that the guys are defending me.  I don’t really care.  She seems like the type of person that gets even more pissed if you don’t rise to the bait.  I decide my best course of action is to ignore her. 
However, I can’t resist batting my eyes a couple of times in her direction.  She rears back, looking horrified.  Geez.

“Hey you want something to drink?”  Nick offers me, half-standing.  “There’s soda and fruit punch
…?”

“No, thanks, I’m good.  But h
ave you seen Johnny?”  I ask for the fifteenth time.

Nick hesitates, leaning toward me like he didn’t hear me.  When I repeat my question, he shrugs.  “I haven’t seen
him yet.  Did you try texting him?”

“Good idea
.”  I slip my phone out of my jeans pocket.

“I saw him earlier,” Jason volunteers, after a long loud belch.  “He was already drunk off his ass.”

I frown, pausing in the middle of composing my text.  I catch Arianna and Kara exchanging little smirks out of the corner of my eye.  What’s that about?

Where r u??

I sit back, cradling my phone in my hands, waiting for that telltale vibrating to indicate a received text message.  It doesn’t come.  The others chat around me, oblivious to my tension.

“Hey, put that out,” Mac says sharply.

I glance up and notice Ryan lighting up a joint.  At Mack’s glare, he puts it down. 

“It’s only weed,” he protests.

“Yeah, and Dean will kill you.  No drugs at his house, remember?”  Nick says, his face serious for a change.

Grumbling, Ryan puts it away.  I’m relieved.  Just the smell of pot makes me nauseous, and I don’t want to get high from the secondhand smoke.  Where is Johnny?  I look down at my phone again.

“So, does anybody know if there’s going to be school on Monday?”  Arianna’s whiny voice catches my attention.  She tosses back her bleached blonde hair.  “I heard the smoke damage from the fire in the library was pretty bad.”

“Not bad enough to shut the whole school down,” Sloane snaps, with a ‘duh’ tone in h
er voice.  “And it was only one little section in the back.”

“First the science lab
and the art supply closet, and now the library,” Ben says, his expression weirdly avid.  “I hope whoever it is torches Jenkins’ classroom next.  I got a big test on Monday that I’m not gonna study for.”

“Little trash can fires,” Ryan snorts.  “They’re not that serious.”

At my curious expression, Nick tells me, “Leclare’s got itself an arsonist.  Someone’s been setting small fires in the school over the summer, and at night.  Somehow, they’re still getting away with it, despite the security cams they put up.”

“Yeah, exterior ones aimed at the bushes
,” Ben scoffs.  “Anyone who knows where they are can avoid them.  You just break a window, and you’re in.”

“Yeah, and how many have you broken
, player?” Mack points out, laughing and running a hand over his shaved head.  “Don’t think we don’t know about your…nocturnal activities in the school pool.”

“Whoa,
Mack.”  Ben feigns surprise.  “You know what ‘nocturnal’ means?”  He snorts when Mack waves a finger at him.

Jason laughs his obnoxious laugh.  “Hey, Ben, you sure you haven’t seen some dude sneaking around with a can of gasoline and some matches?  Or were you too busy banging Arianna
to notice?”

I glance over at Arianna
, who’s grinning smugly.  She actually plops herself down on Ben’s lap and giggles into his ear.  Wow.  I would be mortified if my friends knew I liked getting it on in school.  But look at her—proud as can be.  Silly rabbit.

Come on, Johnny.  I will my phone to ring, but it doesn’t. 
Kara catches my anxious expression, and actually smiles at me.  “If you’re looking for Johnny, I think he said something about going to his room.”

“Oh…really?  Thanks.”  I force myself to look grateful, though I’m sure she just wants rid of me.  I’m fine with that.  I turn to Nick. 
“I’m going to see if Johnny’s in his room.  If you see him, can you tell him where I am?”

Nick’s hazel eyes seem to darken
with concern.  “Yeah, sure.  Are you okay?  You want me to go with you?”

“No, I’m fine
.  I have a little headache.  I’m just going to rest on his bed if he’s not there.”  I smile reassuringly as I get to my feet.

“Wait a sec.”
  He stands up too.  “Go in through those doors, so you don’t have to deal with the animals down there again.”  He points at the French doors that lead inside the house.

“Thanks, Nick.”
  I turn to the others.  “See you guys later.”

I don’t say that it was nice to meet anyone, because—well, it wasn’t.  The guys give me crap for abandoning the
m, which I laughingly fend off.  The girls just look at me speculatively, like they’re waiting for me to leave so they can talk about me.  It doesn’t bother me as much as it probably should, and I know the guys won’t let them get too nasty.  Oh, well.  It’s important to me that I get along with Johnny’s friends, and that they like me—but I’m not going to suck up to them just so they can talk shit behind my back.

I wish
Heather were here.  She’d have my back, and she’d know how to talk to these silly girls without resorting to violence.

Nick walks me over to the French doors, and opens them for me like the gentleman he is.  I look up at him with his messy brown hair and bare muscled chest, and think what a great guy he is.  One day he’s going to find a girl worthy of him.

The doors open up to a short hallway.  I wish I had thought to ask Nick which way Johnny’s room is.  This house is so damn huge.  I’ve only been in it a handful of times, and I’ve always felt uncomfortable being here.  Way too fancy.

Do I go left or right?  Was it past the media room, down by the library?  Or was it in the other wing with the
atrium Japanese garden?  I haven’t gone in from this way before—I’m all turned around.

Sigh.  If I can find the big staircase, I should be able to find my way from there.  Now where is it?
  I turn a corner—and hit a wall.

Ouch.

Oh, great.  It’s not a wall—it just felt like one because it’s Dean.  His chest is solid muscle because he works out all the time, and because I’m pretty sure he’s a cyborg trapped in the body of an underwear model. 

Dean Youngblood is
beautiful
.  His parents could have been an angel and a Greek god—his features are that pretty:  dark eyebrows like two graceful brushstrokes over his eyes; supermodel cheekbones, a straight aristocratic nose—and an incredibly sexy mouth that would probably get him teased by his guy friends if they all weren’t so afraid of him.

What saves his face from being too delicate
ly lovely is when he turns his head and you see the aggressive masculine line of his jaw in profile.  And the jagged scars—a crescent-shaped one near his right temple, and another diagonal one just above his full upper lip.  Somehow those marks only add to the beauty and intrigue of his face.  So not fair.

Oh, and his eyes.  They have an odd reflective sheen
to them, a perfect clarity you only find in newborn babies.  His left eye is the vivid blue-green of a tropical lagoon; the right is a translucent green in the center, surrounded by smoky gray.

The effect of his different colored eyes is unsettling, yet
strangely hypnotic.  I could stare at him all day.  I mean, them. 

Unfortunately, all that
beauty is wasted on him.  Johnny says Dean only has three expressions:  scowl, smirk, and what he refers to as Dean’s blank cop face.

That’s what he’s wearing now, as he looks down at me from his 6’3” height.  I kind of have to acknowledge him now.

“Oh, hi,” I mutter unenthusiastically, taking a step back.  Why does he have to be so intimidating?  “I was just looking for Johnny’s room.”

“You’re in the wrong wing,” Dean says in his deep voice, with that sexy rumbling bass to it.
  “Go down that hall and take a left.  He’s the last door on the right.”

“Okay, thanks.”  I stare at his short black hair, cut in a no-nonsense style—rather than look into his oddly beautiful mismatched eyes.  “So…how have you been?”

“Do you really care, or are you just making polite conversation?”

“I was trying for polite conversation, but you
went ahead and ruined that.”  I’m irritated enough to look him in the eye.  “See you around, Dean.”

“Sure.”

He angles his body sideways to let me pass by, then walks away without a backwards glance.  I, however, can’t help but sneak a peek at him over my shoulder.  You’re so busy staring at Dean’s face that you forget the rest of him is just as incredible.

Still,
I’d pick Johnny’s rugged and slightly battered good looks over Dean’s cold soap opera star beauty any day.

Sigh.  Where are you, Johnny?

******

Chapter 4

I still haven’t heard from my boyfriend, and I’m both pissed and worried.  Is he passed out somewhere?  Is he still mad at me for not coming to his big game?  Unease tightens the space between my shoulder blades.  I can’t get rid of this inexplicable feeling of impending doom.

Okay, now I’m now I know where I am.  Johnny’s room is right across from the laundry room, and there it is, so…hmm…

I’m not suddenly struck by a feeling of intuition.  I push the door open simply because I hear noises I can’t identify coming from inside.  Curiously, I take a step in.

At first, I’m horrified
.  I’ve walked in on a couple making out on a washing machine.  The girl, my mind catalogues quickly, is pretty and half-naked, propped up on the washing machine, her legs wrapped about the shirtless guy’s hips.

The guy…

The air disappears from my lungs, and the room tips sideways.  I stare mutely at the guy’s familiar shaggy blonde hair, and the taut and tanned muscles of his back and broad shoulders.

“No,” I gas
p in disbelief.  The room spins, and time stops.

They don’t notice me.  The girl
is moaning and writhing as he kisses her neck and puts his hands all over her.  My mind takes in these details, but refuses to accept them.  But this can’t be right.  Not Johnny.  He would never betray me like that.  It must be some kind of mistake.

“Johnny!” t
he girl squeals when he grinds himself against her .

Reality explodes, and time kicks back into action.  I stagger back a step, ice cold with shock.  My brain
suddenly wakes up and starts shouting at me. 
This is really happening!  Do something!