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Authors: Riley Jean

Use Somebody (24 page)

BOOK: Use Somebody
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“Window,” Ricky whispered. It broke through my thoughts.

Yes. That’s what I needed. I chucked my reservations into a dark corner in my mind. It was a weak moment, admittedly, but I needed the comfort too badly to talk myself out of it.

My bare feet pattered softly over the floor, dodging the air mattress holding Summer and Kiki’s sleeping forms. The recliner was a big chair for one person, but the closer I got to it, the more I realized it would be a snug fit for two. My fingers gently fiddled with the corduroy fabric, trying to figure out exactly how this was going to work. There was no way we’d both be able to sleep in there without touching, and that wasn’t our usual thing. Ricky was like my brother… we didn’t cuddle.

“Just get in here,” he said, scooting to one side of the chair.

I took a deep breath and climbed in, facing away from him and curling myself around the fluffy armrest. Ricky was bigger than me so I tried to take up as little space as possible. I was more than surprised when I felt his arm wrap around me, his chest press to my back and his knees tuck behind mine. He had made me the little spoon.

I’d never actually spooned with anybody before. I had been laid across laps, leaned against walls and stuffed into backseats to make out, but I had never before shared a bed with a boy.

“Relax,” he whispered. And I realized how stiff I was. I tried to relax by breathing evenly and letting my muscles unclench. I felt him behind me, solid and steady, and after a few minutes I started to settle. It was surprisingly comfortable lying next to another warm body. I snuggled against him, and his arms squeezed me gently.

“Thank you,” I whispered into the dark room.

His answer was just as hushed. “You don’t have to thank me, kiddo.”

“I mean for coming with me tonight. You probably had a ton of party offers… more fun than truth or dare with my crazy friends. But I’m so glad you’re here.”

He chuckled softly. “It was worth it just to finally witness the fox dance.”

The chair shook with our quiet laughter. My nightmare recessed into the background of my mind, and I was so grateful to Ricky for keeping me grounded. This could have been awkward as we curled up in a chair like lovers. But like always, it was simple. It was uncomplicated. It was us.

I could’ve sworn I felt his lips whisper a soft kiss behind my ear. “I go where you go,” he murmured. “Now sleep.”

Obediently, I took a relaxed breath, and soon fell into a dreamless slumber.

Chapter 17
Safe
“Diary of Jane” by Breaking Benjamin

 

I awoke slowly, noticing one detail at a time. First, I was not in my own bed. Next, I was not anywhere familiar. Finally, I was bathed in skin and heat.

My eyes peeled open, sticky and irritated from sleeping in contacts, and surveyed the room. The sun had risen; beams of light streamed through the trees and into the windows, igniting the dust mites floating in the air. The walls were lined with the natural color and grain of wood, as if the structure was built one log at a time. A stone fireplace housed a few final glowing embers and still smelled faintly of smoke. Only silence could be heard for miles.

Vance’s cabin looked different in the daylight. It was rustic yet cozy.

My eyes shifted around the room as far as they could go without moving. Summer was curled into a ball on the air mattress, and Kiki lay next to her, sprawled out on her back, both still sleeping peacefully. Cole was passed out on one couch, snoring lightly. The other couch, where I vaguely recalled waking up in the middle of the night, was empty. Vance was nowhere in sight.

Memories of last night returned, explaining the tan arms still wrapped securely around me. The stiffness of my muscles revealed we had not moved from this position all night. Ricky’s breathing was deep and even behind me, gently blowing the hairs on my nape. It was still early. I didn’t want to disturb him just yet, but my sore joints could not be ignored any longer.

Trying my best not to jostle him, I attempted to free myself from Ricky’s hold. Sensing my movement, he resisted, groaning softly in protest and nuzzling his nose into my hair, his prickly stubble abrading the skin on my back.

I pressed my lips together to stifle a giggle. Well, well, well. What do you know? Big bad Ricky Storm was a snuggler. If I were the type of girl to gossip, I’d bet the girls would love to hear about this.

Speaking of which… it was probably best no one actually found out about this. I wiggled again, but the grip around me only tightened.

“Ricky?” I whispered over my shoulder.

“Hmmph.”

“Ricky?” I said a bit louder.

His head lifted. I turned to face him with a shy smile. “Good morning.”

He rubbed one eye with a knuckle, looking at me lazily with the other. “Morning.”

“Thanks for letting me… you know… last night,” I whispered. “I’ll give you back your space now.”

His arms tightened around me once more. “You don’t have to go yet.”

“I do,” I insisted. “If the girls catch a glimpse of this, we’ll never hear the end of it.”

This time when I tried to disentangle our limbs, he let me go. Two fists stretched above his head as he let out a big, silent yawn. His t-shirt crept up and revealed his tan, well-muscled abs. I averted my eyes and turned towards the door.

Before I could get anywhere, he grabbed hold of my wrist. “Where you goin’, Scar?” He spoke quietly, his eyes half closed and his voice still heavy with sleep.

“Just outside. I need some air.” He released me.

It was only then that I noticed my bare legs. I looked down and found myself wearing a strange oversized t-shirt and boxers. I didn’t remember putting this on. But I guessed our clothes had been too wet to sleep in. It took everything in me not to dwell on those details. I searched around until I found the laundry area. Thank goodness, my clothes were among the load in the drier, and they were clean and dry.

Mental note: always carry a spare bathing suit.

I dressed and caught sight of myself in a mirror—frightening, but I didn’t have a pony tail holder so que será será—then made my way out of the cabin and closed the door quietly behind me. The morning air was cool and crisp. Leaning my elbows on the patio railing, I gazed blankly at the trees around us.

It had been awhile since I’d had such a vivid nightmare. Even though I was trying hard to bury my memories of that horrible night, those images still lived inside me, detailed and intense as ever. What could have triggered it? Yesterday was an eventful day; pinpointing the exact source seemed almost impossible. It could have been seeing faces from my past, getting close to people again, or simply that I had let go for one night and enjoyed myself.

Like it or not, the wall that I had worked so hard to build around my heart was not impenetrable. Despite my efforts, I was growing attached to people and feeling emotions again. Last night I used the classic coping mechanisms to deal with my distress: alcohol and human contact. The last thing I wanted was to rekindle my dependency on either one. I could only hope there wouldn’t be any serious repercussions from my moment of weakness. Sleeping next to Ricky was a first for us, and I didn’t want to make things weird.

My fingers gripped the railing with renewed determination. I couldn’t bring my walls down. There was too much shit deep down inside me that I was still terrified to deal with. I’d just have to be better about keeping everything out.

“You look far too unhappy to be gazing at a view like that.”

I flipped around and was pierced by a pair of eyes as deep and green as the forest around us.

“Vance?” I startled, nearly jumping out of my skin. He was sitting on the patio bench, staring intently back at me. I hadn’t heard him approach, had he been out here this whole time?

“Wh-What are you doing?” I asked, embarrassed that he had witnessed my private moment.

“Sitting,” he said plainly.

My forehead creased at his shortness. There was an edge to his voice that I wasn’t used to hearing from him, that lacked its usual warmth. Perhaps he was not a morning person.

“Whatever,” I muttered, remembering my wall. “I’m going on a walk.”

He stood up to follow. “I’ll go with you.”

“Maybe I don’t want company.”

“Maybe I don’t care.”

Yep. He definitely wasn’t a morning person.

“You’re grumpy this morning.”

“I am not
grumpy,”
he defended.

“You are. And I don’t want you to come with me.”

He laughed. “And you think
I’m
the grumpy one?”

His laugh broke the tension. I bit my lip to stifle a smile. “Well, I’m always like this. It’s assumed.”

“Not here,” he said quietly and approached me. “That’s what I love about this place. How could you be anything but at peace in a place like this?”

I followed his gaze to the trees. Two squirrels jumped from one branch to another; a butterfly floated softly on the breeze. I inhaled the scent of earth and pine as birds whistled their morning songs. We stood together and just appreciated the view.

“Look at those mountains, Rosie. When was the last time you really looked at them?”

I couldn’t even remember the last time I noticed them. When you have mountains in your own backyard, you forget their magnificence. But I was really seeing them now. The whole picture. The beauty of nature was all around us, in the vastness of the landscape, the tallness of the trees, the way the sun played across the early morning layer of mist. My heart fluttered a bit, feeling like it had been locked in the darkness for so many months, when this had been waiting outside every single day.

I was struck speechless, and Vance let me have my moment.

When I hid behind my walls, they blocked
everything
out, the good along with the bad. I was convinced that numbing myself was the only way to survive. I hadn’t seen anything beyond my own misery to find something worth holding onto. But now, looking at the sky and trees and earth before us, I could only wonder, what kind of life could I have without this?

 

* * *

 

Walking down the natural path, I kept my eyes open, taking it all in. It was like seeing beauty for the first time. The colors were what stood out most. In L.A. this clear, blue sky could never be fully appreciated, nor this never-ending blanket of lush greens. Here, there was nothing but wonder and peace as far as the eye could see. A girl could get swept off her feet in a place like this.

I walked silently beside Vance until we made it all the way to the lake. Then I took it in all over again. I didn’t want to miss a thing.

“Nice hair, by the way,” he said

My lips tilted up in the corners, but I kept my eyes on the water.

“Admit it. It’s sexy.”

It totally wasn’t sexy.

The thing about curly hair—it worked on a good day, but without product and especially after sleeping on it wet and tangled, it became an untamable frizz beast.

He chuckled at my sarcasm then took a breath. “So… you and Ricky Storm.”

I laughed wryly. Why did people around here act as if he were some sort of celebrity? Whenever people spoke of him, he was never just
Ricky
. He was always
Ricky Storm
. And somehow my own name had become part of that equation.

“You’re hilarious, Vance. Really. You’re funnier than a string bean.”

He looked at me, confused. “I don’t find string beans all that funny.”

“Exactly,” I deadpanned.

“You’re deflecting.”

“And you’ve been hanging out with gossipy girls for too long. When there aren’t enough fresh rumors floating around, they invent things.” Poor, diluted girls.

“They’re not inventing things.”

My eyes rolled. Was he seriously doing this? “You heard him last night during truth or dare. He’s never touched me like that. We’re just friends.”

“That’s not what it looks like when I wake up to find you two spooning in my Lazy Boy.”

Busted.

I clenched my jaw, trying to fight against the embarrassment that he had witnessed us together this morning. “And what exactly did it look like when you and I almost made out in front of your ex?”

That made him flinch.

“Things aren’t always what they seem.” I gave him a pointed look and turned away. No matter what it looked like, I wouldn’t be getting involved with Ricky or anyone else. Of all people, Vance should understand that.

He made a few quick strides toward me, not letting this conversation end. He grabbed hold of my arm but I ripped it away and leveled him with a glare. Why was he acting like this?

“So we’re back to that?” he said.

“You should be familiar with the concept by now.” I enunciated slowly for his benefit, “I don’t like to be touched.”

“I thought we were past your personal space issues.”

I looked at him curiously.

He sighed. “Okay, I hate to be
that
guy, but… you didn’t seem to mind it last night.”

Oh. That.

I looked away and ran a hand through my unruly mane. The memory of last night—falling into his lap in the cabin, clinging to his naked back in the lake and his amazing massage in the spa—brought heat to the surface of my cheeks. I had never been much of a flirt. But lowering my inhibitions with a little alcohol brought me right back to my scandalous summer in college where nothing mattered but touch.

That drunk, giggly girl had a deeper need for physical affection, a need that had been ignored for the past eight months, a need that could not be trusted with any sense or practicality. But I’ll be damned if Vance or any other guy found that out.

“It was just the Jim Beam, alright?” I lifted a shoulder awkwardly. “We all get a little flirty when we drink. No biggie.”

“No biggie,” he muttered to himself.

“Vance. I’m sorry, okay?” I held up my hands in front of me, a white flag. He was in a vulnerable place right now, especially after such a big breakup. I didn’t want to send mixed signals. “I’m your friend. I’m not trying to make things complicated. Let’s not make a habit out of drinking around each other.”
There. Stick a fork in it.

“Don’t be sorry,” he said. “Last night you were the most carefree I’ve ever seen you. I wish you were like that all the time.”

I smirked. “You want me to be drunk all the time?”

“That’s not what I mean. That was
you
. Enjoying yourself without trying so hard to suppress it. That happy person is still inside you. I don’t see why you pretend to be… this.”

Of course he didn’t understand. How could he know that when I let my guard down, when I let people in, when I started to care… there were consequences.

“It’s complicated,” I said. “Look, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fine. Then answer me this: why him?” he demanded.

“Ricky?”

“I just don’t get it. Why, after insisting that you didn’t need anybody, after making me fight tooth and nail to be your friend, why do you let him in so easily? You trust him. You let him touch you. A guy that nobody trusts and everybody touches. Why him?”

“I’m surprised you’d stoop to caring about reputations and rumors,” I said, fists defensively at my sides. Where was this coming from? “At least he accepts me the way that I am. And he watches out for me. He’s like my brother.”

He shook his head. “You’re not seeing it clearly. Would a brother brand you with that tattoo? Would a brother feed you alcohol as a minor? Would a brother fall asleep holding you in his arms?”

BOOK: Use Somebody
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