Anyone But Rich (Anyone But..., #1)(41)

Cade made an indignant raspberry sound. “If by another shot you mean one night of strictly uncomplicated sex? And maybe a little unlawful use of that nightstick of hers? Then sure, I’ve thought about it. But that?” he said, pointing the bottle of lighter fluid at me. “That is pathetic. That’s . . . I’d almost call it—” He shuddered visibly and then laughed. “Fuck. I can’t even say it.”

“Love,” whispered Stella.

“Stop. Both of you. Kira is fun to be around. Sure. But it’s nothing serious like that.”

“Right,” Cade said. “It’s so not serious that you got into it with Mom and Dad for the first time in your life. Your face was so red. It looked like somebody had your balls in a headlock.”

“It’s not a headlock if it’s on the balls,” Nick noted.

Cade turned to him while still spraying lighter fluid. “Uh, a headlock is a technique. It doesn’t matter where you use it. I could put your legs in a headlock if I wanted.”

“That’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said,” Nick said. “That would be a leg lock. Or a ball lock. Or—”

“Headlock!” Cade shouted, tossing the bottle of lighter fluid aside and diving for Nick’s legs. The two of them fell to the ground as a group of girls who had been drinking beers nearby cheered.

“Take off his shirt!” one of them yelled.

The suggestion was met with a chorus of whoo from the onlookers. Whoo girls. They were the absolute worst.

I got up and headed for the house.

“Goodbye, loyal boyfriend,” Stella said lazily. I’d warned her about the threat my parents had made and about my intentions, which I still wasn’t sure I fully understood. She’d claimed she’d figure it out, but I still felt guilty when I remembered the brief flicker of fear she’d shown at the idea of being at her dad’s mercy again. Stella was strong, but the thought of her dad finding out she wasn’t straight terrified her.

I stopped midstride when I saw Kira walking toward me from the house. She was wearing a gray cotton dress. The evening breeze was making the modest outfit look nearly obscene by pressing the fabric against her body—and damn, what a body it was. It wasn’t my parents’ kind of obscene either. It was the good kind. The kind that made the blood in your body flow to all the right places. I’d always had a weakness for women who didn’t seem to know what they had. It was a rare quality, as most beautiful women I’d met seemed unable to think about much except what they had. They’d pout their full lips, let some of their impressive cleavage accidentally slide free, or wear only clothes that showcased their perfect asses.

I didn’t fault them for being proud of what they had, but I could never get behind the self-obsession it brought out in the women I’d been with before. If Kira had any idea how hot she was, she hid it well, and it wasn’t even fair how badly that made me want to show her.

“You came,” I said.

She smiled and tucked some stray hairs behind her ear only to have them immediately blown back across her forehead. “Yeah, well, I didn’t want to be rude or anything. But it looks like you invited the whole town, so I guess maybe I didn’t need to worry about you missing me if I didn’t come.”

“Confession: I invited all of them because I wanted you to come. It’s starting to feel like nobody wants us to be together, and I thought this might keep them from getting too suspicious.”

“Well, bad news,” she said. She nodded to the group of girls by the bonfire who had been watching a now-shirtless Cade try to pin Nick to the ground. They were all watching us and whispering. “I think the damage has already been done.”

“Then what do you say we forget about what people will say? Just for tonight.”

She bit her lip. “Who says I’d be interested in you, even if I didn’t care what people said?”

I felt my hand moving up to touch the soft line of her jaw, and I knew I couldn’t stop it even if I should. She felt so warm and inviting that I nearly kissed her right then. “The way you look at me says you’re interested.” I lowered my voice to a bare whisper. “Those little moans that slipped out of your lips the other night say you’re more than interested. You’re starving.”

She looked down and tried in vain to tuck her hair behind her ear again. “Does the way I look at you also say how mad I am at myself for that?”

“A little. But all the best relationships start with a little self-loathing.”

She laughed. “Um, I’m going to need you to back that one up with some evidence.”

“Romeo and Juliet. Their families hated each other. Ophelia’s dad hated Hamlet . . . I could go on, but my knowledge of literary relationships pretty much stops at tenth grade literature class. I had a good teacher that year.”

Kira was watching me with an amused, crooked smile. For the first time since I’d come back to West Valley, I didn’t think I saw any of the familiar reservation in her face. I wondered if I’d finally broken through all the old wounds and earned my chance at a fresh start with her. I let my hand fall away from her face, but I could still feel my fingertips tingling where I’d touched her.

“Fair points,” she said. “But both of those women end up dead before the play is over. I’m not sure following in their footsteps would be the wisest choice.”