“Kimmie?” Cole was up and pulling Kimber to her feet before I could move. “Did I hurt you?”
“No more fighting,” she cried, “this is my fault.”
She looked past Cole at Sam. “I’m sorry, but I am in love with Cole, and I used you to make him jealous.”
“I know,” Sam said simply. “I used you to get to Heven.”
Both Kimber and Cole stared at him, astonished. It was insulting. If I wasn’t fighting a panic attack, I would have told them so.
With that announcement he dismissed them and turned toward me. “Breathe. In. Out. In. Out.”
When I could breathe I said, “I don’t like fighting. I have to go.”
I saw the same sadness from earlier pass over his eyes, but he nodded. I grabbed my bag from the floor and walked to the door.
“I’m sorry, Hev,” Cole called.
I kept going.
It was not my day. The sky had finally opened up and rain fell in heavy sheets, soaking my clothes and making me cold. With no sign of the rain letting up, it was equally depressing when the bus broke down not even halfway home. Most of the students got lucky because their parents were following behind the bus, and they were allowed to ride with them. I wasn’t so lucky.
“Come on Heven, Cole’s out there. Coach said we could ride with him.”
I allowed Kimber to lead me off the bus and through the rain toward Cole’s truck. I dreaded the ride with the pair. As Kimber climbed into the cab next to Cole, I looked around. Sam was parked, engine running, behind Cole. He was standing in the rain on the passenger side of his truck. He opened the door, looked at me, and waited to see what I would do.
“Heven?” Kimber called from inside Cole’s truck.
Without a word I left her and walked through the pounding rain toward Sam.
The Hate
She’s falling for his act. I can smell it. I can see it in her eyes. Without realizing it, she is destroying what little is left in her life. I took a moment to stare at the astonished faces of her friends as she chose him over them. How alone she will be when he abandons her.
They have no idea that I am watching them. Stalking them. I watched as he shut her in his truck and turned, and I caught a glimpse of his face. He angers me. He didn’t look triumphant or even smug. He didn’t look like a hunter triumphant in capturing his prey. He looked…nervous and hopeful. I should have known he couldn’t do the job. He’s too obsessed with her to care about what she knows. Apparently she’s the one doing a number on him.
The way he watches her…would he turn his back on us and choose her? I thought that once he got to know her, he would see how pathetic she really was. How can he look at her destroyed face and feel anything but pity?
He’s losing sight of the reason he’s here.
He needs a reminder.
The Hope
Her love for him is palpable. She sees the good that fills him but turns a blind eye to what is beneath his surface, yet she knows that something else is there. She hesitates to trust him, and she is right to do so. He must prove himself.
It is clear that he loves her.
Chapter Six
Heven
Inside the truck it was warm, and I sank into the seat with a shiver. Sam climbed into the driver’s side and reached behind him to pull out a gray sweatshirt, which he draped over my shoulders. It was soft and worn, and I couldn’t resist pushing my arms through it and wrapping it around my body. It smelled just like him: deep and strong with a hint of spice.
“Thanks,” I told him, pulling my soaked hair out from the sweatshirt and letting it drip down my back.
He watched me for a moment then redirected the heat vents so they all pointed at me. “Are you warm enough?”
I nodded. “What about you? You’re just as wet as I am.”
He shrugged. “I like water.”
“Are you a good swimmer?”
“The best.”
“I don’t like water,” I admitted. It was just another reminder that I wasn’t good enough to be here. I reached for the handle. “Maybe I should go.”
“Are you hungry?”
I turned back. His wet hair was hanging down on his forehead, and it flipped out over his right ear. His face wasn’t wet, but looked damp, giving his smooth, olive-toned skin a dewy quality and his eyes, which looked more gold than hazel, were framed by a fringe of dark lashes that were watching me with a resigned look.
“I could use some coffee.”
He flashed me a smile that made my toes curl then put the truck into drive. As he pulled around Kimber and Cole, I was aware of the pair staring, shocked, out the window at us as we drove away. I reached down and turned off my cell, knowing that I was going to have a dozen messages from Kimber later.
He drove skillfully, maneuvering through the downtown traffic with ease. For the first time all day, I found myself relaxing against the seat and settling deeper into his warm sweatshirt. Too soon, he guided the truck into a hard-to-come-by parking spot and turned off the engine.
“Where are we?” I’d been to Portland several times, but I didn’t recognize this place.
He smiled. “Well, it isn’t Starbucks, but it’s pretty good. Different.”
He was around the truck and opening my door before I could say anything. My stomach fluttered when he lifted me out, and I was slightly disappointed when he stepped back, putting distance between us. I followed him onto the sidewalk and trailed after him, smiling to myself at how huge his sweatshirt was on me. Yet I loved it. Suddenly he stopped, and I ran into the back of him. “Sorry,” I stammered as he turned.
He gave me a crooked smile and leaned forward to ask, “Do you trust me?”
“Yes.” I didn’t even have to think about it.
He blinked at my fast response and then grasped for my hand, frowning when he couldn’t find it in the huge shirt. I fumbled with the material to free my hand, suddenly cursing the very shirt I loved for keeping me from his touch. When my hand was free his large hand closed around mine, and he towed me through an open door.
“Bubble Maineia?” I asked.
“What’s your favorite flavor?”
“For what?”
“For anything.”
“Umm, strawberry.”
He seemed pleased by this and sat me in a comfy chair before going to the counter to order. The people around me all had drinks with huge straws sticking out of them. The place was really cool and kind of funky. I looked around eagerly at all the color and decoration until I caught someone staring. Quickly I ducked my head, letting my damp hair hide my face. How could I have forgotten?