“Yes,” I said, barely able to answer. “I am.”
I’d kiss her. And maybe it would suck. Maybe all this other stuff didn’t mean shit when it came to actual kissing.
Her pupils were huge, her long hair slicked against her shoulders, and her mouth was shiny and open. She shuddered against me as I bent forward and gathered her even closer.
I felt her legs tighten around my waist, and I think I stopped breathing until my mouth slid over hers and she exhaled into me.
At first, she was hesitant, her lips trembling a little beneath mine, but then her fingers dug into my shoulders and she opened up, her tongue sliding into my mouth and driving me crazy. She was warm and soft and smooth beneath my fingers, and her mouth was as amazing as I had imagined.
No, that was wrong, because everything was way better than I’d imagined. The way she felt. The way she tasted. Those little noises she kept making.
We kissed for a long time. Long enough for me to know that if I didn’t stop things, I was gonna embarrass myself in ways a guy should never do with a girl he liked.
Carefully, I pulled away, though her legs were still wrapped around my waist as if they belonged there.
We were both breathing pretty heavy, and for a few long seconds, I stared down into the most amazing eyes I’d ever seen, and the cool thing was, there were no shadows. No pain. No sadness.
There was just Monroe.
“Hey,” I managed to say.
She glanced away, but not before I saw the ghost of a smile. “Is that your lame attempt to get me naked?”
“Did it work?” I answered, letting her float away.
She splashed me. “Do I look naked?”
“Not yet.”
She splashed me again, this time filling the air with laughter. “I don’t know why you’re trying, Nate. I don’t do stuff like that. Not with boys like you.”
“Hey,” I said with a grin. “Should I feel insulted? What do you mean, boys like me?”
“You know,” she said softly. “Boys who can make a girl forget.”
“What is it that you want to forget?” I asked, breath held as I waited for her to answer.
Her eyes bored into mine and something flashed inside them.
“I’ll never tell,” she answered softly.
She’d drifted far enough away for my body to cool down a bit, and I moved after her, treading water to keep my distance. I had the feeling that Monroe needed some space. Maybe I did too.
So for a few moments, we floated and said nothing. When she eventually made her way to the other side of the bank, I watched her walk out and then followed her, flopping down beside her on the large blue-and-white checker blanket her Gram had given us.
It didn’t take long for the sun to dry the water on our skin, and when she rolled over and began to slap on sunscreen lotion, I had to look away. I mean, a guy could only take so much, and the little bikini she wore didn’t hide the fact that every inch of her was beautiful.
“You want some?” she asked.
“Nah.” I shook my head. Because I was outside all the time, my skin was tanned. I was good.
She slipped on a pair of sunglasses and offered me another Coke. It was cold and felt good going down.
“How come you won’t play guitar?” she asked suddenly, not looking at me but out over the water.
I followed her gaze but didn’t answer right away. I had to give it to Monroe—she sure as hell knew how to kill the mood.
“Why do you care?”
She shrugged. “I don’t really. I’m just curious. It seems as if music is a huge part of your life and you’ve kind of shut it down.”
I scowled. Huh.
Couldn’t argue with that logic.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to make you angry.”
“I’m not angry.”
She turned her head and tipped her glasses down her nose. “Yeah, you are, Nate.”
Somewhere overhead, a plane crossed the sky, and off in the distance, I heard a chainsaw echo. I fell back, throwing my arms over my eyes for shade.
“Playing reminds me of Trevor. It reminds me of all the things he can’t do. The things he might never do again, and that’s all on me.” I had to pause because the emotion was there, burrowed in my chest, and I didn’t want it to get hold of me. Not here. Not with Monroe.
“All of it. That night. It all went south, and Trevor’s dad is right. It’s my fault.”
“But there were four of you there that night, right?”
I didn’t answer.
“So how can his father think it’s your fault? Isn’t Trevor a big boy? Used to making his own decisions?”
“You don’t get it.” I sprang forward and wrapped my arms around my knees. “I was the one who drove that night. I made that call. Did something stupid and irresponsible, and now he’s in a coma.”
Monroe rolled over onto her stomach and rested her head on her arms. “Don’t you think it could have been any one of you guys driving?”
I shook my head. “Not that night. It was my turn.” The burn in my gut made my voice shake a little, but I couldn’t help it. “We always did that when it came time to party. We took turns, and that night it was mine. It was mine and I screwed up, and nothing will ever be the same again. If I could go back in time and change it, I would, but I can’t and now there’s no more music. I just don’t…feel the music anymore.”
“I think—”
She didn’t have a chance to finish because I cut her off. “Don’t think, Monroe.” I rolled over and grabbed the sunscreen. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“What are you doing?” she angled her head back, her pale eyes wary as I grinned at her.
“Do you want your skin to burn?”
She was too late to answer, and I squirted coconut-scented lotion near the small of her back. Slowly I rubbed it upward, enjoying the view and liking that she was quiet. God, her skin was soft. And the color? It was creamy, white, like the alabaster carvings my grandfather loved.
My fingers looked dark against her, and something about the way they looked and felt made me tight again. I was starting to lose focus—my hands began to travel back down to where they started, and that wasn’t a good idea.
When I was done, I tossed the tube and slid back down beside her.
I’m not sure how long we lay there, so close that it felt as if we were together, but the silence between us made it feel as if she was across the lake.
“Still trying to get me naked?” she said abruptly, and I grinned. I was glad she had made the effort to lighten whatever this was between us. Light was good. Light made things bearable.
“Nope.”
“Huh.”
I glanced her way and found those pale eyes on me, and for a moment, I forgot what I was going to say. Her smile widened and she shot her elbow out, hitting me in the arm.
“You sound like you don’t believe me.”
She shook her head. “That’s because I don’t. I know what you guys are like.”
“You guys?” I guess I should have been insulted, but I wasn’t.
“Yeah,” she said softly. “Rocker guys. They’re always trying to get into some girl’s pants.”
Slowly, I pushed myself up until I kneeled beside her, and then I leaned forward, pushing away a long chunk of hair so I could whisper near her ear.
“You’re not just any girl, and Mrs. Blackwell would skin my ass if I pulled any kind of shit on you.”
“That’s right,” she said, and I heard a quiver in her voice. “Don’t forget it. Gram is fierce.”
“That doesn’t mean I won’t kiss you again.”
I smiled and ran my fingers over her shoulders, liking the way she trembled beneath them.
There was silence. For a heartbeat. Maybe two.
“I might let you kiss me again.” She shrugged and rolled over so that she was up on her knees as well. Her skin was pink and it wasn’t from the sun. I was pretty sure it was all about the heat between us.