The Rules of Regret (21 page)

I
wetted my lips, not intentionally, but it did something to Torin. There was a
shift in his demeanor, and a shift in his posture. His fingers tightened around
mine, and they were still placed on his necktie, though there really wasn
’
t a need for them to be there
anymore. There wasn
’
t
a need for me to even be in this dressing room with him, let alone the store.
Torin didn
’
t
need me, but for some reason, I needed him. Or at least this felt like need.

That
pull between us took on an intense electricity. The three full-length mirrors behind
him were angled in a way that created an endless tunnel of reflections and he
was all I could see: his image repeated infinitely over and over. It was almost
too much, but I didn
’
t
think it was something I could ever tire of looking at, because it was
mesmerizing.

“
Darby,
”
Torin muttered, his tone rough. My
body did this weird thing as my pulse strummed brutally under my skin. My ears
started to ring and my vision blurred until those reflections began to morph
into one solid image. It was almost like I was going to pass out, but it was
almost as though everything had finally become clear. Like the blur before the
focus.
“
Dance
with me, Darby.
”

“
What?
”

“
Dance with me,
”
he said again.
“
I have to see if I can even move in
this suit. It sorta feels like a straightjacket.
”
He tugged on the hem of his coat.
“
There will be dancing at the thing
tonight, right?
”

Oh
yeah. The gala. The whole reason we were here.

I
nodded.

Suddenly,
Torin yanked me close so our chests pushed up against one another, and he
hooked one arm around my waist while he kept our hands pressed between us on
his tie. For as many times as I
’
d
made fun of him for growing up in the wilderness, dancing with him retracted
any of those ignorant comments. Because as his body started to sway, as his
feet shifted and his hips moved, there was absolutely no credibility in my past
statements. He wasn
’
t
some inexperienced backwoods kid. In fact, he was clearly
very
experienced when it came to knowing his body and how to
control it. And it appeared he was just as experienced in knowing how to
control mine as he guided me softly back and forth, rocking on our heels across
the gray dressing room carpet.

I
dropped my head to his shoulder and a shudder ran the length of Torin
’
s body.

“
Mrs. Robinson, are you trying to
seduce me?
”
Torin smiled, imitating rather than being authentic, once again. I was
beginning to think it was easier for him to plagiarize someone else
’
s thoughts rather than declare his
own, because the frequency in which he spoke another
’
s words was much higher than any
other nineteen-year-old I
’
d
ever known.

“
Please, Torin. I
’
m only two months older than you. And
I
’
m not seducing you. You
’
re the one that asked me to dance.
”

He
swiveled his head.
“
Fair
enough,
”
he conceded quickly.
“
Do
you like it? The suit, I mean.
”

“
Mm-hmm,
”
was all I got out.

“
Do you think I
’
ll be able to convince Lance with it?
”
he laughed, flicking his head back
to toss away the hair that slid into his eyes. I was going to cut that hair of
his.

“
I don
’
t think I want you to.
”

Torin
’
s steady movements faltered.
“
What?
”

I
backpedaled five thousand feet.
“
Nothing.
”

“
What do you want then?
”

Silence.

“
Darby?
”
Torin said again, planting his feet.
“
What do you want from me?
”
He bit down on his lip and I wished
he hadn
’
t
because it made me want to do the same to it.
“
Tell me what you want
…
because I
’
ll give it to you.
”

I
looked up at him and he was gazing at me with an intensity that took me by
surprise.

“
I want you to say what you
’
re really thinking instead of hiding
behind songs and famous movie quotes. I want to know
your
thoughts, Torin, not some line that
’
s been spoon fed to you.
”

“
You want to know what I
’
m thinking?
”
he said, vulnerability rippling out
of his tone like a stone thrown into a still pond. It reverberated and rattled
in my head and I felt the heat of his stare echoed in my gut.
“
Do you seriously want to know?
Because I
’
ll
tell you if you do.
”
I answered with my eyes held to his.
“
I
’
m thinking how much it sucks that I
’
m six years too late.
”

My
hands fell to my side. The room turned into a Tilt-a-Whirl.

“
That
’
s
what I
’
m thinking.
”
He inclined forward. His chest
pushed against mine and it ached, feeling instantly heavy the moment we
touched, like heartburn or something that made it impossible for me to swallow
without experiencing the pain of it.
“
So
do you want me to go back to my one-liners now?
”

“
Yeah,
”
I croaked. Yeah, I wanted go to
back. I wanted to go
way
back.

Six
years to be exact.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The
walk to the hotel was quiet. The garment bag carrying Torin
’
s new suit swished against him as we
traveled down the busy city streets, and I tried to focus my attention on the
way it crinkled with the movement, like the sound of someone rustling a
newspaper or magazine. It was easier to zero in on that than it was to think
about anything else because my brain was a vapid space of incoherent thoughts
and hormone-riddled impulses. Garment bag crinkling I could process; everything
else was questionable.

“
I bet you
’
re loving it here, right?
”

My
feet scraped along the sidewalk.
“
How
so?
”
I glanced up at the ominous structures around us.

“
This is your mountaintop, yeah?
”

“
Yeah, actually,
”
I admitted, a little surprised that
he could see that deeply into me.
“
It
sorta is.
”

“
I like that about you, Darby.
”
Torin switched the bag with his suit
from one hand to the other, so it was on the opposite side of his body. When it
was in between us, it felt like some sort of fabric-laden barrier. But now I
was suddenly exposed and closer to him than I should be. Let
’
s be honest; I shouldn
’
t even be near him at all. I should
be on one coast, and he should be on the other. We should have about 40
some-odd continental states in between us.

But
even that didn
’
t
feel like enough distance, and I doubted it would change the way I felt right
now. Absence made the heart grow fonder, right? Maybe being this close to him
would have the opposite effect. Yeah, right. Who was I kidding? My fondness for
Torin was reaching alarmingly unacceptable, skyscraper-like heights.

“
I like that you and I are so
different,
”
he continued, unfazed by my lack of words, which was good, because I was still
trying to relearn the English vocabulary since everything in my brain was
sucked right out of it back during our impromptu slow dance.

“
Me too. I like that we
’
re different,
”
I agreed. Repeating his words was
the safest option.

A
man chattering on a cell phone shouldered me as he raced past and I wobbled out
of his way. Torin shoved me back to my spot with his elbow and laughed like he
thought something about my clumsiness was endearing, which was a first because
I
’
d always thought it just made me,
well, clumsy.

“
As an architectural design major, I
bet you have a lot of places you
’
d
love to travel. Lots of ancient buildings to see, huh?
”

“
No, not really.
”
I pushed my hands into the pockets
of my jean shorts.
“
You
can pretty much see everything on the internet. Real-time images and all.
”
I shrugged.
“
But I kinda want to see Boston Light.
”

“
What
’
s that?
”

“
A lighthouse in Massachusetts. The
first lighthouse built in the U.S.
”
I found a loose string in the seam of my pocket and fiddled with it between my
thumb and index fingers.
“
I
don
’
t
think it
’
s
necessarily anything special, but I remember seeing a picture of it once in a
book my sister had about lighthouses. I told myself then that someday I would
see the real thing.
”

“
That
’
s a sweet story.
”

“
I know, it
’
s stupid.
”

“
No,
”
Torin quickly said, like he could
retract the insulting tone of his previous statement.
“
Not making fun. I think it
’
s really sweet. Like a world-renowned
chef wanting to go to the first McDonald
’
s
or something. Simple. Understated.
”

“
I just like what it stands for, I
guess.
”
I spotted the overhang to our hotel a block up, the maroon canopy strung above
two gold poles that rose out from the ground. We halted at the curb and once
the
‘
walk
’
sign flashed, stepped out into the
street.
“
Lighthouses
were used to warn sailors to change their positions so they didn
’
t hit land,
”
I explained, though I was certain he
knew the functions of a lighthouse. I just felt like I should explain myself
and my weird fascination with them.
“
I
think I just like the idea of having some guiding light to direct my path.
”

We
hopped back onto the curb on the other side and a taxi nearly sideswiped us as
it took the corner on two squealing wheels. Torin protectively pushed at my
back to steer me out of the way, and when his hand lingered at the base of it
just above my waistline, I willed another car to come careening toward us just
so his palm would stay put.
“
Guess
you sort of have that already, though,
”
I said.
“
With
your beliefs.
”

“
I do.
”
He nodded.
“
But I don
’
t always follow those warnings like I
know I should.
”
He jogged to catch the door to our building and held it open for me, completely
ignoring the bellman, and he almost bowed as I passed through, trying to be a
gentleman.
“
Because
with you, it feels like I
’
m
heading into troubled waters. And as much as I see the path I
’
m supposed to take, I want to veer
off course so bad.
”

That
wasn
’
t
at all what I was expecting him to say.

But
he was right. This
was
uncharted
territory: someone being so upfront and vulnerable. Though he
’
d been honest in the past
—
specifically when
he confessed his thoughts to me after the night in the sleeping bag
—
this was the most
transparent Torin had ever been. The most transparent anyone had ever been with
me, in fact. I didn
’
t
quite know what to do with it, but it felt like a gift.

“
Thank you.
”

“
For what?
”
He pressed a finger into the
elevator button at the north side of the lobby. The reception desk buzzed with
a hum of chatter, combining with the rolling of luggage wheels on the marble
floor to create a melodic beat of life carrying on around us. Which felt weird
because it seemed like everything in my own life had temporarily come to a
stop.

“
Thank you for telling me that.
”

The
elevator doors slid open and several businessmen
—
probably politicians
—
funneled out, their
polished European loafers edging us out of the way. Torin held up a hand,
trapped the door open with a tennis shoe clad foot, and waved me through.

“
You
’
re welcome, Darby. I
’
ll tell you anything you want to
know, but I don
’
t
necessarily see what the point is.
”

Once
inside, the doors closed, making a sucking sound when they did, and then the
elevator jolted as it began its climb to our twenty-first floor.

“
There
’
s always a point to saying what you
feel.
”

In
that moment, it was like my statement lit something within Torin, and without
warning, he jammed a finger against the number pad and the elevator jerked to
an abrupt stop, practically whiplashing me as it halted its upward glide.

“
What are you doing?
”
My pulse kept climbing even though
the elevator didn
’
t.

“
I need to go find a floral shop,
”
he said matter-of-factly, like I
should know exactly what the cryptic declaration meant.

“
What? Why?
”

“
I need to buy you like the fattest
bouquet of flowers right now, Darby.
”
He laughed and it echoed in the tight space we were in, bouncing off the gilded
walls.
“
Do
you realize what you just said?
”

“
I said it
’
s good to say what you
’
re feeling.
”

“
Right,
”
he confirmed, nodding.
“
You
’
re going all soft on me. Trees and
flowers. And I kinda like it. I
’
m
chipping away at your structure and concrete.
”
The elevator still hovered somewhere
between floors ten and eleven. My stomach hovered somewhere between my esophagus
and my mouth.
“
Don
’
t get me wrong,
”
he continued.
“
I like that you
’
re hardheaded and stubborn, too.
”

“
That
’
s not true, Torin. You said you
’
re not attracted to girls that are
stubborn.
”

“
Normally I
’
m not. And I
’
m not attracted to brunettes
—
err, redheads
—
either.
”
He cast a sly grin my direction.
“
But I
’
m attracted to you, Darby. And not
just bits and piece of you
—
like
I could just take the good and leave the bad.
”

“
Sometimes it feels like there
’
s quite a lot of bad
—”

“
Don
’
t say that.
”
He silenced me with a shake of his
head.
“
There
is not. But even if there was, there
’
s
something about you that keeps drawing me to you. And it
’
s incredibly aggravating, because I
told you I
’
m
trying to do the whole straight and narrow thing.
”
Torin took two steps toward me and
trailed a finger down my cheek, sweeping a strand of hair behind my ear.
“
You
’
re like the damn Sirens that tried to
crash Odysseus and his men against the rocks. I
’
m seriously contemplating getting
some earplugs and tying myself to the bed to get away from you.
”

“
You want to be tied to the bed?
”
I gulped, trying not to envision
that because it did spastic things to my asthmatic breathing.

“
That
’
s not exactly what I meant,
”
he murmured, a rosy blush crawling
up his cheeks that made him look nervous, which was sort of irresistible.
“
I was referencing the
Odyssey.
You know, where Odysseus has
his shipmates stuff their ears with beeswax and then has them tie him to the
mast as they pass by the singing Sirens?
”
His finger rested by my earlobe. I didn
’
t
know why it was still there.
“
I
’
m not sure why I said the bed. There
is probably something else in our room you could tie me to.
”
His hand dropped.
“
Damn, that doesn
’
t sound any better, either.
”