In Your Dreams (Falling #4)(46)

“I killed it that night—tried some way out-of-the-box things and had this vibe going that just made everyone feel kinda high I guess,” I say, and I catch her stiffen and tuck her hands under her thighs. I reach over and touch her arm without looking. “No, don’t worry. I said feel kinda high. They weren’t high—it’s not that kind of scene. Well, no…that’s not true. I’m not going to lie; there are a lot of people who are on shit at these places, but that’s not the point. I’m not into that. I meant that the music sort of took over.”

“Oh,” she relaxes, turning again to face me just enough.

We drive for a few minutes while listening to my stereo. I buy piece of crap cars so I can put my money into making the sound system worthy of my ears. I’m playing through some deadmau5 right now, just to get in the mood. I can tell she likes it by the way her right knee is pulsing with the beat, but I also wish she would sit still—because I can’t help but notice the movement, and I’m compelled to look, and her dress isn’t very long.

This is so not the girl dressed in rags and playing Helen Keller in that yearbook photo. I bring a hand up to my neck, blocking my view from her for just a beat—I need a breath.

“So, in high school, you…you did a lot of theater stuff, yeah?” I ask. I’ve been dying to ask.

“Kind of,” she says, turning her head away from me, her eyes out on the city whizzing by as we get on the freeway. Her hair is down and wavy from the tie she had it in before we left, and she lets it fall over the opposite shoulder to block my view of her face.

“You were in Helen Keller, if I remember…” I say, wincing through the lie since she can’t see me.

She takes in a deep breath.

“I was,” she says through a light giggle. Her hands grab a hold of her hair, shifting it back to the opposite shoulder, and she lets her head turn to face me. I glance over to find her smirking. I cock my neck and raise an eyebrow. “You’re such a bad liar, Casey. You didn’t see the show.”

I blink and suck in my lip, bringing my eyes back to the road.

“You’re right on two counts,” I chuckle.

“Two?” she asks.

“Yep,” I say, filling my guilty lungs and glancing at her one more time. “I’m a horrible liar and no, I did not see the show.”

“I know,” she says.

I squint in question.

“Our auditorium was small, and I…I would have known you were there,” she says.

I nod, but can’t help but think of the next question that begs. She would have known because…she wished I was there? And as if she can read my mind, she continues.

“You had a pretty big personality, Casey. There weren’t many rooms you could walk in unannounced,” she says. It isn’t flattering, and it twists my insides a little.

“I see,” I answer, moving my hand forward to tap the volume button and make the music louder.

We ride for the next few miles with the music so loud it rattles the dashboard. But before we get to the exit for downtown, Murphy leans forward and turns the volume low again.

“I didn’t mean that how it sounded,” she says. I know the face she’s making before I look at her to confirm it. I chuckle when our eyes meet, and her eyebrows dimple.

“You’re a pretty bad liar, too, Murphy. You meant it exactly how it sounds,” I say, shaking my head and rubbing my neck. I’ve been dished harsh criticism before, and I’ve built up a pretty thick skin, but for some reason her pin-point accuracy on these little things stings. “I was…am…a little arrogant. It’s a flaw. I’m working on it.” I tap my fingertip to my temple and glance at her. “I’ve got a running list.”

I can feel her eyes on me as I drive through the tall buildings to the center of town. The music is just loud enough to fill the void, and the sights outside provide a good temporary distraction until I drive us into the garage; the lights dim as I continue several floors below the thirty-story building we’re going to the top of in a few minutes.

I pull into a spot and force a smile at her, feeling about half the size I did when she first said she’d come with me tonight. Exiting my door and walking around the back to her side, I catch her door just as she opens it so I can hold it the rest of the way. I look away as one foot hits the garage floor, knowing that her skirt will get shorter, and that her tempting legs will bring out my worst. But then she stops moving.

“You have a running list of your…flaws?” she says. I don’t look, but I sigh and nod slowly.

“It’s a long list,” I laugh, but a full smile never quite hits my lips, because it isn’t really funny.

A few seconds pass before she steps from the car completely, and my eyes flit to the ground to let her move without my gawking. I’ll have plenty of time to take her in tonight, and right now, I don’t feel very worthy. She pauses right in front of me, though, bringing her hands up to the collar of my shirt and reaching her cool fingertips inside, running one finger around the edge to the back. I look up at her then; she’s so close—so close I could kiss her if I wanted to. I could make that mistake all over again; I could go through with it this time.

Her eyes follow her hand, her neck tipped to the right, accentuating that long line that’s so bitable and delicate. She dips her thumb inside my shirt and then presses her palm flat against the back of my neck and I see stars—for just a second, things are bright. Her eyes pop to mine, and her tongue barely edges out of her mouth, wetting her bottom lip, and I’m so close to caving.