I claimed Lucy as my teammate immediately. Bree took Ozzy and Jessie joined Jeremy. Leaving our pancakes, we all took off to find a form of water weapon.
As great as Lucy is, she sucks at Water War. When she grabbed that little squirt gun she shot me with the first time I met her, I plucked it from her hand and threw it over my shoulder. She was mad until I produced Super Soakers. Chase and I had filled them with cheap tequila and took them to a party. We shot girls in the mouth all night. Good times.
Lucy made me wash them out before she agreed to use them. It set us back. That’s why we’re sneaking around by the staircase.
The floor creaks above us as we approach the landing. I spin around and grip Lucy’s waist. I roll us along the wall, pressing my body into hers, and then pulling hers into mine as we turn. I’m being dramatic, but it gives me the excuse to feel her against me.
Her shirt comes up slightly and I trail my fingers across her bare back. I feel the muscles pull tight, twitching against my hand, and I apply more pressure. Lucy’s head drops forward, resting on my shoulder.
I walk my fingers up her skin and slip them under the clasp of her bra. She tilts her head so she can look at me. I can feel her breathe against my chin, soft and warm. I want to inhale it. Taste it. Drink every ounce of her breath.
The quick padding of little feet gives away Ozzy’s approach. Lucy jumps back, falling back into game mode. She holds out three fingers, folding them in as she counts down.
Three.
Two.
One.
I grin at her as we spring around the corner and fire. They double-crossed us. Jeremy and Jessie joined Bree and Ozzy’s team. Before I can fully comprehend what’s happening, I’m being hit by four different streams of water. Jessie and that damn water cooler being the most efficient. I’m soaked.
Lucy’s fairly dry, and laughing. I turn my gun on her. She tilts her head to the side to keep her face out of the attack, and I lunge at her. Wrapping my hands around hers, I angle her gun up and spray until I’ve drenched every inch of her head.
She squirms in my arms, her back pressing into my front, and she squeals loudly.
And then I feel a sharp pain in my leg. I jerk back and try to shake my calf, but there’s a kid attached.
“Son of a—” It takes everything in me not to kick Ozzy off. His teeth are embedded deep into my flesh and it hurts like hell.
“Oswald,” Lucy cries. “No. Get off him.” She drops down to her knees and squeezes the kid’s cheeks in between her fingers, trying to pry his mouth from my leg. When he releases me, I jump back out of biting range.
Lucy hugs him to her tightly, rubbing his back. I kind of want to hit him.
“It’s okay, Oz. I’m fine. We were just playing. I’m all right. I promise.”
Jeremy laughs and shakes his head. “He got you good. You’re bleeding.”
Lucy gasps and pulls back from her little brother. She grabs his face and looks at his mouth. “Gross Oz. You got his blood in your mouth.” She glances at my leg and then up at me. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
“He bit me.” I know I’m stating the obvious, but that little shit bit me.
Jessie chuckles and covers his mouth quickly. I glare at him and he holds his hands up, shaking his head, but the smile’s still there.
Lucy stands up, pulling her brother to her side. “I tried to warn you—”
“I don’t recall you saying shit about your brother being a zombie wannabe.” As soon as I say it, though, I realize that’s what she was trying to tell me when I freaked out yesterday.
It must show on my face because her only response is the arching of her brows. “We should get you guys cleaned up.” She turns to Ozzy and narrows her gray eyes. “You know you’re in trouble, right?” He nods slowly, dropping his gaze.
“So who won?” Jeremy asks as we head back to the apartment. I limp behind everyone, blood soaking into my sock.
“We won,” Bree says, placing her hand on his shoulder.
Lucy has this little smirk on her face that I’ll make her pay for later. I’m not seeing the humor in this situation. It hurts like hell. I shoot a look at Ozzy when he peers over his shoulder at me.
“I’m buying you a muzzle,” I hiss. And even though his eyes hold some semblance of remorse, he laughs at me.
Fucking kids.
Life lesson number 10: Do not have children. They’re short, evil demons with homicidal tendencies. In fact, I should go get my balls clipped just to be safe.
I adjust my jeans and sigh. On second thought—fuck that. I’m in enough pain as it is.
Bree says something about helping the flesh eater rinse his mouth. They head up stairs and I turn into my apartment. I rip a paper towel off the roll and start cleaning my leg. There are over six hundred different species of bacteria in the human mouth. I bet kids have even more germs than that. When I was a kid, I would consistently just wet my toothbrush instead of brushing my teeth. I didn’t care about hygiene until I hit puberty and realized girls didn’t want to kiss a dude with bad breath and B.O.
I cringe. Who knows how long it’s been since Ozzy’s brushed his teeth. I probably have thousands of critters slithering into my blood stream.
“You need some help?” Lucy asks. She leans her hip against the counter and crosses her arms.
“I need rubbing alcohol.”
She wrinkles her nose. “You should use peroxide. Alcohol will burn.”
“I know what it will do.” Burn the fucking creepy crawlers right off.
She bites her lip like she’s fighting a smile. “You’re kind of a crybaby,” she says quietly.
“It hurts.”
“Yeah. I know.”
“Then why you calling me a baby?” I sound like a baby.
She gazes at me. “You’re pouting.”
“I am not.” Okay, seriously. What the fuck is wrong with me? I am straight up being a sulky little bitch.
“Will you feel better if I kiss it?”
I raise a brow and nod. “Definitely.”
Lucy bends down, resting on her knees. She leans forward and suddenly I’m not in pain anymore. Her hair is wet and it sticks to me, tickling the hairs on my legs. She glides a soft kiss to the skin above the bite wound. When she sits back on her feet and looks up at me, I want to grip the back of her neck and crush my mouth to hers. I want her so fucking badly.
Clearing her throat, Lucy drops her gaze. “Let’s see if we can find you a band aid and a lollipop.”
She pushes herself up and takes my hand. I purposely step into her, our chests making contact. My fingers bunch the hair at the back of her neck and I pull her closer. Her gray eyes get that stormy look that I can’t get enough of. I love knowing I cause that. It makes me go hard and I want her to know. I want her to understand the way she affects me, too.
I trail my hand down to the small of her back, resting it at the sexy curve above her ass. I push until her hips press into me. She gasps and it’s like a punch to the gut.
What the fuck am I doing?
I drop my hands and step back. Damn it. I’m sorry. But I don’t tell her. I just stare at her, watching the different emotions passing over her face. Each one is more beautiful than the last. Fear. Confusion. Passion. Anger.
“I know I said we don’t have to label this, but I can’t live in limbo. I can’t keep waiting for you to decide what you want. Either I’m worth it to you or I’m not. If you don’t want a relationship that’s fine, but don’t lead me on. All these almost kisses are driving me insane. Kiss me or don’t. Quit acting like you want me…just to push me away.”
“You don’t want a relationship either.” I don’t know why that’s what I choose to say when really I want to apologize—to explain I wasn’t trying to lead her on. I want her so much. It’s getting harder to control, but I’m not ready for more. More is fucking scary as hell.
She laughs harshly. “I want a relationship, Park. You don’t.”
“You do
n’t want one with me,” I say and it’s apparent I’m asking a question. A really big question.
Her eyes narrow as she flicks them over my face. “I don’t want what you can’t give.” She turns around and pauses halfway through the doorway shaking her head. She whirls back on me. “No. You know what? I do want it. I want to be with you more than I’ve ever wanted anything else in my life. What I don’t want is to be hurt and I think you’d be really good at hurting me. So just…don’t.”
I wonder how big of a prick I am because I want to lie and promise her I’d never hurt her. I want to say whatever I need to to make her stay.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Lucy, but I will.”
She blinks quickly and I know she’s holding back tears. “I don’t even know what to say to that. Congratulations, you’re a bastard?”
I shake my head slowly. “This is who I am.”
She closes her eyes. “And this is who I am. I don’t sleep around. I don’t know how to turn off my emotions and just have a one night stand. I need more than that.” When she looks at me again, her expression is unreadable. “I don’t want to keep doing this. I don’t want to wait to be enough for you. If we can’t be more than friends, then you can’t try to kiss me anymore. It means two very different things to us.”
No it doesn’t.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” She pushes her fingers through her hair. I fist mine to keep from reaching for her.
“Okay,” I repeat.
“Yeah. Okay. Great. I’ve got to take my brothers home. I’ll see you later.”
I watch her as she leaves me standing in the kitchen. As soon as the front door closes, I sink into the chair. My head drops to my hands. My leg fucking hurts again.
Lucy’s Rules:
1. Make the conscious decision to look at others with an open mind and an open heart.
2. Everybody needs someone in their life they can rely on. Try to be that person.
3. Take a chance.
4. Love whole-heartedly. (Unless in the presence of Park Reed—in which case, guard your heart at all cost.)
5. Make it your goal to make someone smile daily.
6. Always expect more of yourself today than you did yesterday.
7. No matter how many times you’re let down, continue believing in the goodness of others. (?)
17
Lucy
Regret: A sense of loss or disappointment; a feeling of sorrow or remorse over an act or decision.
I regret every single word I said to Park in his kitchen three days ago. I miss him. He asked me to accept him for who he is and I shot him down. I can’t believe I did that. I told myself I’d be patient with him. That I wouldn’t give up on him. I don’t know how to make this better.
When Chase and Guy sit in his booth, I almost start crying. It just seems so wrong. That’s Park’s spot.
I put my hand on my hip as I look at Guy. He pushes his blonde bangs out of his eyes and smiles, but I don’t feel like smiling right now. “He send you to keep an eye on me?” I demand.
“Actually, he kindly suggested a nice place for me to go grab a bite to eat when I said I was hungry.”
“Which was Hell,” Chase interjects, “if I remember correctly?”
“Yes,” Guy agrees. “But I like the pie here better. Not as sulfery.”
“Mm.” I nod. “A little better atmosphere as well.”
“Less screaming with despair,” Chase concurs.
“Similar décor, though, I’m guessing,” Guy states glancing around the small diner.
I laugh for the first time in three days. And then my vision blurs as my eyes fill with tears. I blink them back quickly. “How is he?”
“He’s Park,” Chase says flatly. “He’s indecisive and moody.”
“But how is he?”
“What do you mean?”
I feel my eyebrows crinkle. “He’s always moody and indecisive. I want to know… Is he drinking? Is he…?” Sleeping with every girl he meets?
Guy sits back and stares at me for a long moment before he slides over and pats the seat beside him. “Come sit for a minute.”
I look over my shoulder at my manager. He’s busy flirting with Kimmie, much to her dismay, so I take advantage of his distraction. I scoot my bottom onto the cool vinyl and Guy wraps his arm around my waist.
“Talk to me Lucy Lu.”
“Okay… About what?”
Guy smiles and stares at me again. “How long?”
I look down at the table. “How long what?”
“Should I…?” Chase stands up. “I forgot—something…in the car.” I watch him as he walks away and my stomach starts churning with nerves.
“Exactly how long have you been in love with Park?”
“I’m not in love.” I’m not. I don’t love him. I care about him. And yeah, I think about him a lot. But love?
“You love him,” Guy says, his voice taking this surprised tone that irritates me. I mean, is it that hard to believe someone could love Park? He’s gorgeous and sweet. He’s smarter than he lets on and the man is filled with so much hunger. It’s beautiful. He’s beautiful. I could drown in his heartache. I could suffocate on his anger. I would happily bleed his passion. He is completely lovable.
“I don’t love him. I like him. I lust him. I do not love him.”
“He doesn’t love you, too.” Guy watches my reaction closely, but I don’t give him one. “I’m not sure how much, but I see this change in him.” He sighs, his hand squeezing my hip at the same time. “You just have to be careful. He’s self-destructive. When things start going good, his timer starts ticking. Counting down until…” He flicks one hand in the air, opening his fingers wide. “Boom.”
“He blows up?”
Guy smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Pretty much. And if you aren’t really careful, you’ll get hit with the shrapnel.”
“You say that like you know firsthand.”
Guy looks at the salt shaker as if it holds the right answer. He pulls his lip into his mouth, chewing on it as he thinks. “I’ve seen it happen.” He turns to me. “I told you a little about Hope. My sister that he used to date.”
I flinch at the name, remembering how Park lost it the last time she was brought up. “Yeah.”
“Right. Well, she was the same way.”
“Was?”
He nods his head and narrows his eyes, studying me again. “She’s different now. Happy.”
“What changed for her?” I want to know how to help Park be happy.
Guy laughs and shakes his head. “Love, Lucy.” He rubs his face. When he drops his hands, they smack the table hard and I startle.
“I think you should go for it,” he says suddenly. “Just jump in with both feet.”
“Uh…” I slip out of the seat. That would be great if he didn’t just warn me I’d have my heart ripped to shreds. “I have to get back to work.”
Guy claps his fingers around mine. “Just think about it.”
***
I do everything in my power to not think about what Guy said. In fact, when Bree says she wants to set me up with one of Jessie’s friends, I don’t fight her on it.
I let her pick my outfit and do my hair. I even give in and let her weigh my eyelashes down with mascara. Jessie seems all right with the whole thing, so I know whoever I’m going out with must be a decent guy. He must be everything Park isn’t.
I don’t even know his name.
Not-Park shows up fifteen minutes early. This annoys me, but if I’m being honest with myself, it has nothing to do with his timekeeping. It’s more the fact that he has very blonde hair. It’s almost white—and it’s 100% natural. I know, because he made a point to tell me. He also has bright blue eyes and a dimple in his chin.
He reminds me of a Ken doll.
When Not-Park smiles, I notice he has perfect teeth. They’re whiter than his hair and I can see the pink of his gums.
“Kyle is majoring in busi
ness,” Bree says. “He only has one more semester before he graduates. His family owns their own business. A restaurant. He wants to expand and open another location around here.” She continues to list his qualifications. I zone out, imagining Bree standing behind a podium as Kyle struts up and down a walkway, trying to sell him to the highest bidder.
“Lulu loves Mexican food,” Bree says loudly and I know I missed something.
“Mexican’s great,” I agree.
Kyle smiles and I return it. He seems really nice. I bet he’s the relationship type. He probably doesn’t screw everything with two legs and a vagina. I mean, he knows what he wants in life apparently. He wants to finish school and open a restaurant. He seems reliable. Promising.
“Ah, good,” he says. “You had me nervous there for a second.” He offers me his hand. “You ready?”
“Sure.” I let him hold my hand and ignore that his is a little sweaty.
“You look really nice. Bree said you were pretty, but I wasn’t sure if she was biased.” He grins. “She isn’t, obviously. You’re stunning.”
Stunning. I’m not sure I’ve ever been called stunning. And then I wonder what Kyle would think if I’d worn my cut-off shorts and tank top like I would prefer. How would he feel if my hair wasn’t curled and my face was free of make-up?
I feel like an imposter. Little Lucy playing dress-up in Mommy’s clothes, on a date with a perfectly nice boy I have absolutely no interest in.
Because Kyle’s hair isn’t black and messy. Because his eyes are blue and kind instead of brown and warm with hidden pain. He’s too tall and too husky. I prefer the tight swimmer’s build and six foot, tattooed frame of—
I am so mad at Park.
He has ruined men for me.
I realize as Kyle opens the car door for me that he doesn’t smell right. He’s all musky woods scented. I miss that light undertone of smoke and ash.
Ugh. I just miss Park. Damn him.
Before I step into the car, my eyes flick up to the second floor fire escape. I shouldn’t have looked. My chest tightens and my face grows hot as I meet his dark gaze.
Park’s bent over, forearms resting on the railing, cigarette between his