Needing Her (From Ashes #1.5)(77)

“Yeah, but your car isn’t starting. Which is why I’m here.” He said every word slowly, like I was a child or something. “Don’t you remember, Rachel? You called her almost three hours ago, but she was busy, so you told her to call me. Are you feeling okay? Come on, get in the car. I’ll get you back to your room.”

“I am not getting in your car, I’ll drive myself back!” With that I took the last few steps to my car, got in, locked the door, and put the key in the ignition. I turned it but nothing happened. There wasn’t even a click. What had happened to my car? I knew I hadn’t called Candice. And even then, if I’d wanted Blake to pick me up I would have called him myself. Someone tapped on the window and even though I knew who it was, I still jumped.

“Come on, Rach, this is dumb. Just get in the car and I’ll take you back. I’ll get your car towed in a couple hours.”

There was no point in trying to call someone else. It was two in the morning, everyone was asleep, and I definitely couldn’t walk back at this hour. I grimaced and opened the door.

“That’s my girl. Come on, let’s go.” He helped me into his car, then got in beside me. This time he didn’t put his hand on my thigh.

The short drive to the dorm seemed to take forever, and besides his asking me a few times if I was feeling all right, there was no conversation. Blake seemed genuinely concerned about me. Had I called Candice? Did I just forget about everything while I was writing to my parents? Is that why I went in to write to them in the first place? Maybe all the studying mixed with my caffeine high, which was turning into a major crash, had my mind all jumbled. I must have just forgotten. It would have been easy to grab my phone and check the recent call history, but something inside me tightened and I knew it would be the wrong thing to do. We finally reached the dorm, and just like that morning, Blake parked in the lot. Aces.

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” he asked for the fifth time since we’d gotten in the car. “You freaked when you saw me.”

“I’m fine, really, don’t worry about me. I probably just forgot and lost track of time in there.” I tried to make my smile convincing; I didn’t want him to walk me to my room. I got out of the car, ducked my head back in to thank him, and saw he was getting out too. Crap.

“You don’t really think I’m going to let you walk up there by yourself, do you?”

“Of course not,” I muttered. “I was just trying to be polite. It’s late and you’ve already been waiting on me for hours . . . apparently.”

He just laughed as he walked toward me, put his arm around my waist, and led me to my room. When we got there he reached out to open the door for me; at least the good-bye would be quick. But my happiness was short-lived; he walked me into the empty room and then turned to shut and lock the door behind us.

“Where’s Candice?” I couldn’t stop my voice from shaking. How weird that just Thursday I’d spent hours alone with him in this room and had felt comfortable and enjoyed my time with him. But now, being in here with him felt . . . wrong.

“She didn’t tell you when you talked? All she told me was she was busy,” he said a little too innocently.

I turned to face the room again to see if her cell was around; if it wasn’t I was going to call her immediately. Before I could find—or hopefully not find—her phone, Blake came up behind me and began kissing the back of my neck.

“Uh, Blake? Can you not do that right now? I need to find out where Candice is.”

Instead of stopping, he turned me around, pushed me up against my wardrobe, and resumed his place on my neck. I tried pushing him back, but it was useless. The guy was a rock and he wasn’t budging.

“She’ll be back when she’s ready to come back,” he breathed between kisses and little bites.

Well, I wasn’t about to wait for that to happen. I wanted him out of my room now. “Okay, I’m really ti—”

He quickly moved up to my lips, shutting me up, and his kisses became rough and possessive. Just as they’d been that morning, only these weren’t lasting three seconds. We were close enough to the door that he reached out to flip off the lights and caught me around my waist again before I could take advantage of the break in his strong hold. He started backing me up toward the bed, and I pushed as hard as I could against the hand holding my head in place. His only response was to push against me harder. My bed was high enough that it hit at the small of my back and helped me stay standing when he tried to push me down. When I didn’t immediately fall onto the bed, he pulled my head back to look at me, giving me the break I needed.

“You need to leave. Now!” My arms had been caught between us, but with the new space I put them against his chest and tried to push him back farther. Instead of moving away, he got a smile that turned my body to ice and my arms to Jell-O. This is what I imagined a crazy person looked like.

“You don’t mean that,” he growled as he pulled my face back to his.

Did he really think I was just playing hard to get? I wanted him off me! He let go of my waist and began searching for the bottom of my shirt, but even though my waist was free I still couldn’t move; I was caught between him and the bed. When he found it he didn’t waste time traveling up to grab my chest. I could feel him getting excited and it made me want to throw up. His lips moved back to my neck.