Becoming Rain
Page 42

And I’m dripping in sweat from my run.
A cool smile touches her lips. One that doesn’t reach her eyes. “He obviously doesn’t like sharing your affections,” she says with an unusual hardness in her voice.
Shit.
I knew it.
She saw Priscilla come in.
I didn’t even think about the possibility until I stepped into my bedroom last night and spotted the faint glow burning beyond Rain’s blinds. I made a move to shut my own blinds right away, but I could have sworn I saw a face peering out from the edge of her living room window. And her bedroom curtains were open later. They’re never open. I know because ever since that night I saw her lying on her bed, I’ve been checking every night.
So, if she saw me bring a woman home last night, just hours after dropping her off, why the hell is she here now? Why did she even answer my text?
She tosses a tennis ball first in the air and then across the path, into a clearing on the other side. Stanley leaps from my arms with surprising agility, taking off for it.
“He has a lot of energy.”
“Too much, most days,” she agrees. “What are you up to today?” Her eyes drop over my shirt, clinging to my body. “Besides showering.”
“I have some things to do.” I need to sort out the Ferrari stuff with Aref later. But not before I sort this out. “You?”
“Same.” She smiles at me but it’s off. Forced.
Stanley, oblivious to the growing tension, bounds back with the ball in his mouth, dropping it in front of me with a bark. I toss it across the way, freeing my hand to reach for hers. After a second of hesitation, she gives it to me, her long, delicate fingers slipping into mine, the contact spiking my already racing heartbeat.
I lead her over to the park bench, leaving Licks stretched out in a patch of grass. I never have to worry about him running away. How do I bring this up? Do I bring this up? In reality, I just met Rain; we’re not exclusive, we’re not even really dating. We’re “hanging out,” as she calls it. But something tells me that how I deal with this now is going to dictate what happens tomorrow.
I don’t know a lot about what’s going on in my life right now, but I know that I want there to be a tomorrow with Rain.
So I decide on blunt honesty. Rust has always schooled me on being straight up and dealing with things head on. Not to dance around issues, because it’s a waste of time and breath and patience.
Locking eyes with her, I say, “You saw me come home last night, didn’t you?”
Surprise flashes across her face before she smothers it. Her mouth opens and closes several times. I can almost see the various answers churning, as she decides whether she should lie or not. “Yes,” she finally says, breaking our gaze to watch Stanley roll in the grass like he’s got a terrible itch on his back.
“I went out to meet my uncle after I dropped you off and had too much to drink. My friend Priscilla gave me a ride home.”
“Is that what you call it? A friend giving you a ride home?” Her voice is low, unreadable, and yet telling me everything I need to know. Yes, seeing me with another woman bothered her.
I sigh. “No, that was a friend driving my car home and then coming up to spend the night with me.”
She winces but then smooths her expression yet again. “Look, we just met. We’re just friends, right? So I get it. You don’t have to explain anything to me.”
“That’s the thing. I feel like I do because . . . nothing happened.” When she rolls her eyes, I quickly continue. “I’m not lying. Look at me.” I gently grab her chin, directing her gaze to mine, hoping she sees the truth for what it is. “I wasn’t into it.” Sure, watching Priscilla pull her clothes off made me hard and when I stripped down, I was physically ready. And then I thought of Rain—of her smile, of her laugh, of how she’s a breath of fresh air in this world that I’m finding myself in, a world in which, when I’m lying in the quiet dark and taking longer than usual to fall asleep, doesn’t feel quite right. And I thought of how she would feel if she knew what I was doing.
The fact that I cared what Rain might think was jarring. Even my best friend, Jesse, says I’m a selfish bastard.
Suddenly I didn’t want Priscilla anymore.
I told her I was too tired, too drunk. She just shrugged and climbed into the shower to wash a night’s worth of club work off. Another sign that she doesn’t really give a shit about me. I pulled my sweatpants on and grabbed a drink of water from the kitchen. That’s when I saw Rain’s bedroom blinds open. That’s when I knew, without a doubt, who I wanted to be with last night.
“Why are you telling me this?” she asks quietly, her focus seemingly fixated on the pebble she’s shifting around with the toe of really sexy black boots.
I slide my hand over hers, pulling her eyes back to mine. “Because I want to be honest with you.”
She stares at me through shrewd eyes for the longest time, likely measuring my words. I hold her gaze. Stanley’s incessant barking is what finally breaks the spell, forcing her to turn away long enough to toss the ball extra far. “Are you going to have more friends driving you home?”
I push the strands of hair that always seem to fall across her face back. “Do you want me to?”
After a pause, she shakes her head. “But . . . I can’t give you that right now. I don’t know how long it’ll be before I can. I just . . .”