“What?” I ask.
“You look beautiful tonight.” His eyes stay locked on mine, making my breath catch.
I look down. “Thank you.”
Luckily, the waitress arrives to save me. She’s tall, slender, blonde and pretty. Her eyes drift hungrily over Colt while my stomach clenches with jealousy. I wait for her to address him by name, assuming he brings all his dates here. But she doesn’t.
She takes our drink orders. Sparkling water for him, Diet Coke for me.
“So you must bring all your dates here.” I fumble with my straw.
His brows knit together. “No. I’ve never brought a date here.”
Oh.
“We used to come here for my mom’s birthday every year.” He leans forward with his elbows on the table. “That was the tradition in my family. Who’s ever birthday it was got to choose. She always chose here. I haven’t been here in years.” He glances toward the front of the restaurant, his mouth turning down a touch. “She liked to sit up there though.” He nods toward the windows. “I thought that might be too strange.” He rubs his chin, thoughtfully.
“Oh.” I’m shocked he brought me here. This place is very special to him. It must conjure up all kinds of memories. I have the urge to lean closer and take his hand, but I don’t.
“Your curiosity satisfied?” he asks, leaning back in his chair once again.
I nod. I feel ashamed for thinking the worst of Colt –assuming that he was closely acquainted with our waitress, when in reality he brought me somewhere he used to go with his mother.
We share a delicious meal that Colt orders. And even though we’re stuffed, he orders tiramisu, convincing me I’ll like it even though I don’t like coffee. I do. It’s delicious and so is the way his eyes widen when I lick the cream from my spoon.
After dinner he takes me to the beach and points at a lighthouse in the distance. “Are you up for walking there?”
I nod eagerly and slip off my shoes. He takes the ballet flats from me, remarking how little they are and tucks them into his back pocket. He removes his shoes too, letting them dangle from one hand. I look down. Naked feet. Even his feet are hot. Long and narrow.
We set off walking down the beach as the sun sets. In the sun it would have been too hot, but now the air is perfect. Crisp, with a light breeze. It’s the perfect summer night. We walk in silence, just the sound of crashing waves as our backdrop.
“How do you know about this place?” I ask. “Is this another place your mom liked?”
Without meaning to, we’ve been chatting casually about her off and on throughout the night. His eyes grow soft whenever he speaks of her.
“No.” His answer is quick – to the point. “When I was in high school, we used to have parties on this beach and sneak off to the lighthouse with girls.” He grins at me guiltily.
“Oh I’m sure you never did anything like that, Colt,” I feign surprise. “I’m sure you were a perfect gentleman.”
“Are you kidding me? I practically invented it.”
When we reach the lighthouse, he expertly pops the padlock on the door and holds it open for me.
“I was giving you an out,” I say.
“I know.” He grins. “But I don’t have to pretend when I’m with you. You already know about me and yet you can’t seem to stay away.” He leans closer, tucking a strand of loose hair behind my ear. “You’ve fallen for my irresistible charm.”
I laugh, my breath catching in my chest. “Hardly.”
His face falls and he studies me, trying to see if I’m joking.
I step past him into the narrow stairwell. “I hang around because someday soon you’ll knock someone up or come home with a disease and you’ll need someone level headed and mature,” I gesture to myself, “to pick up the pieces.”
He shakes his head at me, but doesn’t dispute it.
I climb up the steep stairs, trailing my fingers along the narrow walls as we advance toward the top. I stumble a few times in the darkness and Colt’s strong hands find my hips, steadying me each time. His touch makes my pulse jump.
When we reach the top, all my senses are humming, the salty seawater smell, the rich wood inside the lighthouse, my breathlessness from the climb up, Colt’s hands innocently on me in the darkness.
Chapter 37
Once we reach the top of the lighthouse, Taylor goes to the large windows and looks out at the dark water. I go and stand behind her, placing my hands carefully on her shoulders and begin to rub, massaging her neck.
She tilts her head to the side, giving me better access. Her body responds to my lightest touch and that knowledge stirs something inside me.
I lift her hair from her back and arrange it gently over her shoulder. Taylor’s amazing scent wafts up to meet me, filling my senses. I want to lean down and taste her neck, to see if it’s as sweet as it smells. But of course I don’t. I can’t rush her.
My fingers continue kneading her tense neck and shoulders and she relaxes into me. Good girl.
Her breath hitches in her chest and she lets out a soft murmur. “That feels amazing.”
My entire body clenches with want for her.
“Good,” I whisper in her hair, unable to stop myself from leaning closer to breathe her in. Her warm, sugary smell of vanilla reminds me of baking with my mom. She used it in everything. Carefully measured teaspoons added to chocolate chip cookie dough, or droplets of the rich fragrant liquid added to creamy pancake batter. Dark whirling against the light as I stirred it in. An errant thought lingers. The contrast of dark and light. Me and my fucked up background contrasting with Taylor’s sweet innocence.
After a few minutes more, I drop my hands. She turns to face me, confusion in her eyes. She’s wondering why I stopped touching her. Perfect. I want her to want more from me.
But when I look into her eyes, I can see she’s at war with herself. She doesn’t want to like me, yet she’s drawn to me like a moth to a flame. An awareness of not wanting to hurt her tugs at me, but I quickly push it away.
“Hey.” I take her face in my hands, cradling her jaw and trace my thumb across her pouting lower lip.
She sucks in a breath and bites into her bottom lip, driving me wild with desire.
Several things happen at once: I pull her body against mine and she moans in relief, I tangle my hands in her hair, tipping her head to meet my mouth, then I wait her out, our lips barely touching.
I watch her eyes fall closed and she lifts up on her toes, closing the distance between us. She wants this. My heart swells. She wants me. She brings her mouth to mine. The kiss is soft, yet not entirely innocent. She teases my mouth open with her tongue, wanting more. And I am more than happy to oblige.
Taylor is a good kisser. Too good. Kissing alone shouldn’t have this effect on me, yet it does. My entire body stands at attention, lapping up every ounce of her. Our tongues meet, tangling, tasting, exploring in the darkness.
A loud fog horn interrupts us. She pulls back, breathing heavily and looks up at me. We stare at each other for a few seconds, then she laughs nervously and tips her head down.
“Well that was…interesting,” she says.
“Interesting good or interesting bad?” I ask, lifting her chin to make her look at me.
“Interesting good,” she breaths, her eyes on mine.
I trace her bottom lip with my thumb, unable to stop myself from touching her. It’s still damp from our kiss.
The fog horn blasts again somewhere out on the dark water. I never knew this place was so damn loud, but maybe it’s just that I don’t like anything competing with my attention for her.
I need to get her out of here. Now. Otherwise, I’ll take her right here on the wood floor of this old lighthouse, and though it wouldn’t be my first time doing so, I’m pretty sure Taylor is a virgin, and she deserves better.
I step back from her and notice her face fall at my lack of attention “Come on. Let’s go.” I pull her hand toward the stairs.
Chapter 38
Did I do something wrong? A moment ago, Colt was kissing me, and now he’s flipped like a light switch and is pulling me toward the door. He leads me down the stairs, still holding firmly onto my hand, like he’s determined to end our date.
Tears prick at my eyes irrationally. Why does he have this effect on me? I hate how weak I am. I cling to his hand for support.
The first time we kissed, he stopped abruptly too. Why doesn’t he want to kiss me? I know I should keep my mouth shut. I know this more than I know anything, yet I can’t.
I stop walking and free my hand, anger blazing in my eyes. “Why don’t you want to kiss me?”
He turns to face me, shock written all over this his flushed face. He didn’t expect me to call him on it.
“That’s what you think?” He laughs.
I’m glad I amuse him. I cross my arms over my chest.
“You are so far off, it should be illegal.”
Huh?
He steps closer until he’s flush against my body, his leg in between my knees, his hands on my waist, pressing me firmly against him Oh.
He breathes in my hair, his breath ragged against my ear. “I want to kiss you. In fact, I want to do much more than kiss you. Which is why I made myself stop while I was still in control.”
I look up at him completely bewildered. Whoa. “Who told you to stop?” My voice is quiet, but my eyes are wide as I look up at him, challenging his logic.
His surprised expression matches my own. Then his eyes grow dark and he shakes his head. “No.” A frustrated growl murmurs through his chest. “I’m taking you back. Now.”
He pulls my hand once again, leading me to his BMW and tucks me safely inside like a small child.
Annoyed and teeming with frustration, I ignore him the rest of the ride home.
***
In the morning I’m awoken way too early for my cell phone to be buzzing. After the fourth ring, I fumble for it and pick it up.
“Hello?”
“Taylor. This is McAllister. You’re needed in the lab for an assignment right away.”
“What time is it?” I rub the sleep from my eyes.
“Four-thirty. I expect you here in five minutes.”
I groan and hang up. I consider rolling over in bed, and ignoring his request, but I know I can’t do that.
Within a few minutes, I’ve dressed, brushed my teeth and thrown my hair back in a ponytail.
I climb the stairs to the fourth floor, pleased to see all the physical training no longer leaves me winded from doing so. I step inside the computer lab.
The bright lights glow overhead and McAllister has several computers pulled up to various screens charting the ship’s progress. I stand at the door for a moment, trying to get my bearings. I know it’s stupid, but I’d half hoped Colt would be here. I was more confused than ever after how our date had ended yesterday. I needed answers. I needed to see him, to see if he was going to be back to his playful, charming self or still brooding like at the end of our date.
McAllister impatiently motions for me to join him. I slide into the seat next to him.
“Today’s the day, Taylor.” He grins at me. I don’t trust the glint in his eyes. “I want you to set her off her current course by four degrees. He taps the screen indicating what he means.
I lean in closer. The ship will be closer to land if I do that, but not nearly enough to do any damage or send her ashore, I see with relief. Four little degrees. I could do that.
After all, I’d spent the last several weeks figuring out how to get inside the ship’s command center. And now that I had it cracked, I very much wanted to see if it would work. I stifle a yawn and lean back in my seat.
McAllister runs his hands together. “You get to work.” He stands. “And I’ll get you a Diet Coke. Colt told me it is your drink of choice.”
My gaze flashes to his. Colt talks to McAllister about me?
He’s out the door before I have the chance to ask anything else.
I go back to my assignment and begin working. My fingers tap furiously at the keys. I’m using multiple computers in the room, my heart thumping with a steady energy as I set everything into motion.
I sit back and wait.
I notice that somewhere in the mayhem, McAllister brought me a can of soda. It sits warm and unopened beside me. I look at the clock and notice that somehow two hours have passed. I send a quick email to McAllister letting him know that everything worked out perfectly.
I yawn again and rub at my eyes. Time for bed. Hopefully Bria won’t mind me missing Zumba…
When I wake up the sun is cascading through the dorm windows. I’ve slept way longer than I intended to. The room is hot and sticky and I kick off the heavy duvet.
I glance at the clock. I’ve missed both Bria and Colt’s classes, but if I hurry, I’ll be in time for lunch.
I take a quick shower, and dress, combing my hair into a simple bun so I won’t have to style it. Then I make my way to the cafeteria.
Right away I can tell that something’s different. The normal hum of conversation, the scooting of chairs, and occasional fits of laughter are missing. It’s dead silent.
I hesitate at the door, trying to figure out what’s going on. A group of students huddle in the corner facing the TV mounted on the wall. I make my way over to them. The news is on, showing a ship in the ocean, it is listing badly to one side. My blood goes cold.
I take a step forward and get closer to the TV. I have to hear what they’re saying. MJ and Logan and are amongst those crowding around the TV. I squeeze between the bodies, making my way to the front. I can hear them saying my name, asking where I’ve been, but my mouth is completely dry and I’ve forgotten how to speak. My head spins and I do my best to focus on the TV. The blood rushing in my ears is deafening, but I focus on the newscaster until her voice comes into focus.
“Breaking news…massive oil spill…oil tanker, Alliance has collided with a coral reef…”
I suck in a breath and my knees go weak.
“Officials for World Oil Corporation have no comment at this hour about how this disaster could have happened…”
Oh my God…
“Pending a full investigation…”
I turn and run. I hear my name being called, but I don’t stop. I push through the doors and stumble blindly down the empty hall.
My legs feel weak, but I can’t collapse here. I push myself to keep moving, trailing my hand along the wall for support.
This is no coincidence. I heard the news anchor – she said Alliance. The name of McAllister’s assignment for me. I push my legs faster, needing to get someplace where I can break down.
I’m only vaguely aware of footsteps behind me when I feel a hand clasp around mine.
Colt.
His strong hand encloses mine completely. His face is hard, serious. “Come on,” he commands, and pulls me down the hall.
Colt must have seen me leave the cafeteria and come after me. My heart fills and expands. Colt will help me fix this. He has to.
He leads me to the stairs and helps me climb up; stopping once we get to the second floor. He pulls me along. For a brief second I wonder where we’re heading. Then I realize: He’s taking me to his room.
I don’t put up a fight, thankful at least I’m not alone. He unlocks the door and holds it open for me.
I step around him and hear the door close behind us. All at once he’s pulling me into his arms, folding me into his embrace. I lay my head on his chest, letting myself fall into him completely, balling my hands in his shirt. It’s only then I let the tears come.
We stand like that for I don’t know how long. Colt doesn’t press for details, or ask any questions. He just holds me, rubbing my back while I sob into his neck.
After a little while, I lean back and meet his eyes, wondering why he’s being so nice to me, why he’s taking care of me right now.
When he meets my eyes, his hardened angry look falls away revealing his concern and worry.
“Are you okay? Talk to me,” he pleads. He takes my face in his palms, wiping the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs.
“I did that.” I sniff. “That ship. That was m-my fault.” A fresh wave of emotion hits me, racking my chest with sobs.
“Shhh.” He pulls me to him again, patting my back. “That was not your fault.”
“Yes it was!” I shout, pulling back from him.
He drops his hands, confusion all over his face.
“I need to go to the lab. I need my computer.” I wipe at my face with my shirt hem, knowing I look a mess.
“I’ll get it for you. Stay here.”
I blink up at him.
“I’ll be right back.” He turns and leaves me alone in his room.
I know it’s irrational. I know it’s too late to stop the commands I released, but I need my computer. I need to do something.
I pace Colt’s room, convincing my pounding heart to slow, and eventually coaxing my tears to stop. I find a box of tissues beside Colt’s bed blow my nose, and wipe my eyes dry.
When I’m slightly calmer, I sit down in the center of his bed and scan my surroundings.
The room is larger than I expected, I don’t know why but I was expecting a tiny dorm room with cement walls and a narrow twin bed.
His bed is large and at the far end of the room with his dresser and a small table, both in rich wood. The bed is neatly made in rich navy and crisp white bedding. I bet if my nose wasn’t so stuffy it would smell deliciously like him.
On the other end of the room, closer to the door is a seating area with a small couch and a desk with Colt’s laptop and files. A narrow book shelf leans against one wall with a few books – mostly textbooks stacked messily on the shelves. On the center shelf, at eye-level is a photo in a silver frame. The one personal artifact in his room. I walk closer to inspect it.
The boy – no more than eleven or twelve is clearly Colt. Messy, dark hair, a smile like he knows something the rest of us don’t and he’s tall, nearly as tall as the woman beside him. She must be his mother. She’s striking, and way too young to be gone. I can see where he gets his full, dark eyelashes.
Colt comes through the door with my laptop and stops when he sees me holding the picture of his mother.
He swallows and steps closer to me, slowly, tentatively. He holds a hand out for the picture frame, offering me the laptop instead.
“What’s her name?” I ask before parting with it.
“Elaina.”
I hand it over.
Once I have my laptop, I go back to Colt’s bed and sink against his pillows, propping the computer across my lap.
Chapter 39
I watch Taylor move around my room. She sits down in the center of my bed, scooting up until she can lean back against the pillows. She opens her laptop and begins typing furiously as she studies the screen. Fresh tears spring to her eyes, and she presses her lips together, forcing them away.
I watch her work for a few minutes, unsure of what to do. In this moment the only thing I know for certain is that she is beautiful, and that I hate my father even more than I thought.
I could quite literally kill him right now. I’m itching to track him down and raise hell, but the only thing keeping me here is Taylor. The look on her face when she saw that news footage felt like someone had punched me in the gut. I hate to see her cry.
I’m not sure what made me follow her out into the hall and drag her up here, I just didn’t like the thought of her alone and crying in the hall. It reminds me of that time with Samantha. I still feel guilty as hell over her catching me with another girl, the same night I asked her to hang out. Guilt was a strange feeling. New for me. Taylor was invoking all kinds of new feelings in me. I both liked it and didn’t.
I set the picture of my mom back on the shelf. If anyone else had touched this, it would have bugged me. But not her. I look over at her and watch her sink back against my pillows. Something tugs in my chest. I take a breath, flexing my forearms and move closer to her. Confusion, anger and something else I can’t identify swirl around inside me.
I sit down beside her, the bed dipping under my weight. “I told Tate you wouldn’t be in class this afternoon.”
She looks up meeting my eyes.
“What else can I do?” All my concentration is on her. Making her feel better. Helping her. Just like at our last assignment gone wrong. I remember getting her in the bath, feeding her, kissing her. My head swims with the memory.
She turns away from the screen, momentarily at a loss for words. “Why did you bring me here? Why do you even care?”
Her words sting, but given my track record, I suppose it’s a fair question. “I thought I made that clear. We’re friends Taylor. And I know better than anyone the shit McAllister is capable of.”
“Friends?” she chides. “Friends who go on dates and kiss and then run away from each other?”
My palms itch. Why do I have the urge to hit something? Damn, this girl challenges everything I do. I release a breath slowly through my teeth. “I thought I explained why I ended that date.”
She blinks up at me.
Fuck. She’s going to make me say it. To admit to her again how I feel about her. I’m quiet while I consider her question. The silence in the room hangs heavily around us.
I sigh and run my hands through my hair.
She bites her lip, still waiting, still blinking up at me with those big blue eyes that are at least no longer wet with tears.
“Let’s not get into this right now.” I meet her eyes, my voice firm.
Her face tightens, her forehead creasing.
“We have more pressing things to figure out, don’t you think?”
I resist the urge to reach out and touch her, to comfort her again. She seems to be doing okay now – which means I need to keep my hands to myself.
She nods in agreement, letting me off the hook. For now.
“What have you found?” I nod to her computer.
She turns it to me, setting it on the bed between us then presses play on a news video.
We listen in silence to the segment, which doesn’t offer up many new details. But she breathes a sigh of relief and her shoulders visibly relax when she hears there were no causalities and the crew made it safely off the ship.
“Are you worried they’ll trace this back to you?” I ask once the video ends.
“Of course. But honestly I don’t think they’ll be able to. It’s more the gravity of what I’ve done. The damage I’ve caused.” She looks down again at the computer screen, which shows images of silty black water slick with oil, and brown waves crashing against a rocking shoreline, leaving the thick deposits in its wake.
“I just don’t understand…” She looks lost. “Why would he do this? Why give me this assignment? He had to know right?”
I look down. Of course he did.
She inhales, fighting off the emotion in her voice. “I thought our assignments were taking down bad guys, the criminals. I thought we were on the good side of the law. McAllister said I’d work with the government, that I’d be helping. That’s why I stayed – that’s why I’m here.”
“I know,” I say, softly, reassuringly. “That’s why I’m here too.” Our eyes meet and lock on each other’s for a moment.
“Why would he make me do this? What’s his motivation?”
I shake my head. “He’s just hungry – he won’t say no to business. Running this place is his entire life and I don’t think he has any moral compass outside of seeing his company succeed.”
“Is he married?” she surprises me by asking.
“He was. A long time ago.”
“How do you know so much about him?”
“I just do.” I clear my throat. “I’ve been here for three years trying to keep him in line.”
She nods, accepting my answer without question. If she knew the truth, I doubt she’d be sitting here right now, so calmly discussing this with me.
Taylor goes to another news site and clicks on an article about the major cleanup effort that will likely last several months. She leans forward, reading it with interest, desperately trying to piece this all together.
“Enough.” I close the screen to her laptop.
She looks up at me blinking her beautiful eyes, her pink lips parted.
“It’ll just upset you,” I explain.
Taylor stays with me until dinnertime when I make her go downstairs to eat with her friends. The sooner she moves past this the better. I don’t want her dwelling on it. We can’t change the past, and I know she’s now working out her future here.
I can’t argue with her about staying again, not after this.
He must have known that. Is this a punishment for that botched assignment? Can he tell I like her and doesn’t want her getting in the way of my work here?
When Taylor slips off to dinner, I decide to pay a visit to McAllister, my palms itching as the need to pummel something returns in full force.
***
Taylor spends the entire next week reading every single news article she can find, tracking down any connection McAllister could have to this ship, yet we’re still no farther along in understanding McAllister’s motives behind this deliberate oil spill than we were before.
It’s no longer enough for me to hang out with Taylor during her independent study, she also comes to my room every night after dinner and we read the news articles together, even though I know it’s not healthy.
I’m thankful when after several days; the media attention about the oil spill has died down.
“I’m going to throw this laptop out of the window if you don’t get off of it soon,” I threaten.
Taylor’s lying across my bed on her stomach, deep in thought, staring at the screen. She looks up at me and smiles. Actually smiles. It’s heaven. I can see the tension slipping from her day by day.
Taking her good mood as a cue, I join her on the bed and close the laptop, sliding it away from her.
“You’ve been too distracted lately. Too consumed by this. We’re getting out of here for a while.” Damn it. I’m telling her again. I swallow and correct myself. “Can I take you out?”
She smirks, studying me curiously. “I assume after how our last date ended – this won’t be a date. ” She uses air quotes.
I stare at her, the confidence growing inside me. “Call it whatever you want, but yes, I see it as a date.”
She bites into her lip, studying me.
“But I promise to be a proper companion this time. No physical contact.” I hold up my hands, showing her I’m safe.
She frowns at me. She really doesn’t understand why I stopped touching her last time.
“Why do you assume that’s what I want?” She challenges.
Now it’s my turn to stare at her in confusion. Her blue eyes dance with mischief, perplexing as ever. “Okay. How about this?” I drop my voice a notch lower, leaning in closer to her. “No physical contact unless you ask for it first.” I smile. “Sound fair?”
Her lips quirk up in a strange half grin when she realizes she’ll have complete control over me. “I think I can handle that,” she says, breathless.
Who knew being the one in control would make her so happy. I realize this is what she wants, what she’s needed all along: me, this relationship on her terms. I’m game. Because by the end of the night, she’ll be begging me to touch her.
“Tomorrow then.”
“Tomorrow.” She smiles.
I’m a goner.
Chapter 40
The last week has flown by in a whirl-wind. I can’t eat a solid meal, I’ve barely slept, I’m on my laptop 24/7 and I respond to my mom’s calls with one-line texts, just to say I’m fine, but busy with school, knowing that if I hear her voice I’ll break down.
Each day I’ve questioned why I’m still here. But if I’m being honest with myself – the reason is Colt. He’s been my savior this week. Making sure I’m eating, keeping me company in the computer lab, listening to my rants about McAllister, who’s conveniently gone away on business – I think to avoid me and Colt.
Each night I’ve gone to Colt’s room, where he distracts me with old sitcoms on his computer, and board games from the rec room closet. He’s doing everything he knows how to do to keep me occupied – well not everything since I suspect there are extra-curricular activities he excels at beyond Monopoly, yet he hasn’t laid a finger on me.
I even acted like my neck was stiff and sore once from hunching over my computer all day attempting to entice him into giving me another massage like he did in the lighthouse, but this time, he just clenched his jaw and asked if I needed another Diet Coke. When I’d said sure, he’d darted out of the room like there was a fire.
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