15. PARIS
PARIS
The looks I get as I stride back into the library, dripping water, would have been comical if I was in a mood to appreciate them. I can’t wrap my mind around what Vanessa wants. She was as into that kiss as I was, but then, bam, an innocent comment has her pulling a one-eighty on me.
She said she’d wait in the lobby, but I wonder if she plans to ditch me again. If she does, I should just let her go, but I can’t in good conscience allow her to wander alone at night when it’s pouring and she can’t defend herself properly.
The visual of her son-of-a-bitch ex assaulting her has been burned into my memory. He’s lucky he hasn’t crossed my path.
I’m surprised when I find her in the same spot. She’s shivering, so I don’t think twice before pulling a hoodie from my backpack and offering it to her.
“Here. You can wear this.”
She eyes the bunched up piece of clothing but doesn’t take it. “It’s gonna get soaked as well. I’ll put it on when I’m in your truck.”
“Right.” I stuff the hoodie back in my bag. “Wait here. I’ll get the car.”
“Leave your backpack with me then. It will get totally wet otherwise.”
Man, what’s wrong with me? It’s like being in her presence has taken away my ability to think. “Good call.”
I sprint toward the parking lot. The rain doesn’t look like it’s going to ease up any time soon.
I don’t mind the cold or the wetness, but driving wearing drenched clothes will be hell.
I jump in the back seat first and find my gym bag.
Unfortunately, the clothes aren’t clean.
I normally wouldn’t give a damn, but I don’t want to smell like a rotten egg with Vanessa in my car.
I end up taking the towel and covering the driver’s seat instead.
Vanessa walks out of the building the moment I pull up, moving fucking fast for someone on crutches.
I get out to help her with those, and that’s the only thing she allows me to do.
She manages to get into my truck without any help.
Better this way. I shouldn’t touch her or get near her when she keeps giving me mixed signals.
When I return to my side of the car and open the door, I find her in her bra. I freeze. “What are you doing?”
“Changing out of my wet shirt. You said I could borrow your hoodie.”
I clench my teeth and slide behind the steering wheel, then shut the door hard. What the hell is she trying to do to me? Drive me insane? Fine. Two can play at this game. I remove my wet shirt and toss it to the back of the car before putting my seat belt on.
“Really, Paris? You’re going to drive like that?”
“I don’t have a spare, and you’re wearing my only dry piece of clothing.”
She falls silent, so I dare a peek. It’s a big mistake. She looks perfect wearing my clothes, sexy as hell, with her long, tousled damp hair and a pout that only makes me want to kiss her again. I force my gaze back on the road.
“Are you going to tell me why you got angry with me back there?” I ask, because I’m obviously a glutton for punishment.
“If you don’t know, I’m not going to tell you,” she grumbles.
“That’s just fucking dumb. In case you don’t already know, men are dense. You have to spell things out for us.”
I expect her to pile on to what I just said, but instead, she asks, “Do you remember what happened after our parents caught us kissing?”
“Yeah. They yelled for an eternity and became mortal enemies,” I joke, even though that’s pretty much what happened.
“No, after that. You stopped talking to me.”
I grip the steering wheel tighter. “I was waiting for the dust to settle.”
She snorts. “The dust didn’t take nine fucking years to settle, Paris.”
“I didn’t wait that long. A week.”
“What are you talking about?”
A traffic light turns red, which is providential, because I need to look at her when I say this.
“I came looking for you at your soccer practice. I thought I was being sneaky, but your mother saw me and told me that if I didn’t leave you alone, she’d send you to live with your grandparents in Brazil. ”
“What? That’s ridiculous. She’d never do that.”
“Well, she sounded pretty believable. I didn’t want you to get punished because of me, so I decided to wait longer and then…” I look away.
“And then Cory.”
“Yeah.” My voice is thick, and the knot in my chest tightens.
She doesn’t speak for a moment, and I find that I can’t say anything else either.
The light turns green, and as usual, I wait a couple of seconds before driving.
I don’t accelerate, and that saves me from colliding with the asshole who runs a red light.
He speeds in front of my truck, missing it by a hair.
I stomp on the brake hard, and my body lurches forward.
The seat belt digs into my bare chest, burning—that’s why one shouldn’t drive without a shirt on.
“Motherfucker! He could have hit us,” Vanessa blurts out.
“Yeah.” I slip my hand under the seat belt and rub the chaffed spot.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I say, sounding harsher than I intended.
Speaking about my brother put me in a funk, and now I just want to get Vanessa home and be alone for a while.
A heavy silence drops over us like a thick blanket, smothering and unyielding. I could turn on the radio but I’m not in the mood to be entertained. I shouldn’t let the darkness drag me under again, but I can’t find an ounce of motivation to stop it.
When I park in front of Vanessa’s house, I say without looking at her, “We’re here. You can return my hoodie later.”
She exits without a word. I keep my gaze glued to the windshield even when she opens the back door to grab her crutches. A second later, my face gets hit by a ball of fabric.
“Here’s your hoodie now. Thanks for the ride.” She slams the door shut and trudges to the front door without a shirt on.
Son of a bitch .
I get out of the car and sprint to catch up with her. “Vanessa, wait.”
“Just leave, Paris.” She leans one of her crutches against the wall and shoves her now free hand inside her huge bag.
“I planned to, but I can’t go without clearing the air between us.”
She whips her face to mine while her hand remains buried deep in her bag. “There’s nothing to clear. You believed some bullshit lie my mother told you, and then life happened. You picked Lydia, and then decided to match her horrid personality.”
The neighbor’s front door opens, and on instinct, I step in front of Vanessa, bracing my right arm against the wall behind her, and hiding her from view.
“What are you doing?” she grits out.
“You’re half naked.”
“So?”
The neighbor doesn’t acknowledge us as he proceeds to take his dog for a night walk.
Yet, I don’t move, and she doesn’t either.
One moment we’re locked in a battle of stares, the next, I’m claiming her mouth, and pressing my body against hers.
Her back meets the front door and she drops the crutches.
The air is chilly, but I’m on fire, burning from the inside out for her.
Her fingers thread through my hair, yanking at the strands. “Paris,” she murmurs.
I ease back. “Do you want me to leave?”
Her hooded eyes stay locked on my lips. “No, I want to find the damn key in my bag.”
I step back, giving her room to rummage through the accessory that seems meant to hide things. She finally fishes out the key with an air of triumph. I don’t follow her inside immediately, needing to know she really wants me there.
She looks over shoulder, and asks, “Are you coming?”
I almost leap inside, pulling her into my arms while I push the door closed with my foot. My mouth finds hers again and, like magic, the darkness that consumed me during the trip here vanishes into thin air. All I needed was my girl.