Winter (Four Seasons #1) (23 page)

“
You’re sure?”
he whispers.

“
I’m sure.” I
hitch my knees up and dig my fingernails into his ass, letting him
know I can’t wait any longer. When he rocks forward, pushing into
me, we both freeze for a moment, overcome by the intensity of how
it feels. He’s way bigger than Justin, the only guy I’ve ever slept
with, and the borderline pain of having him inside me is
incredible.

“
Oh shit,
you’re so tight. Don’t move!” he begs. I still underneath him and
watch his face as he struggles to even out his breathing. His eyes
lock onto mine as he carefully draws out of me, staring the whole
time he slowly inches back. I can’t help it when he thrusts inside
again; I buck and push upwards, desperate to feel him deeper, and
he lets out a pained groan.

“
Fuck it.” He
grabs hold of my wrists the way he did before, except now I’m more
than willing to have him pin them over my head. He kisses my throat
as he thrusts into me again, delicious darts of pain firing between
my legs as he sinks deeper and deeper.

That crippling
heat is building like an unstoppable inferno when Luke starts to
shake. “Oh, ffff… I’m gonna…I can’t…”

My legs lock,
drawing him in as deep as he can go. I push up against him so that
my breasts brush against his chest with each thrust and suddenly
we’re both coming. He stiffens, letting out a panting cry, and I
ride into him, my synapses firing blindly as I come apart piece by
piece.

My hands are
tingling when Luke lets me go. I brush my fingers up and down his
spine, enjoying the way the muscles in his back twitch
spasmodically. He settles over me and starts whispering quiet,
pretty things into my hair. After a couple of minutes I feel him
tensing and know he’s about to get up.

“
Don’t,” I say
softly. “Stay inside me.”

Knowing it’s
exactly what I need, Luke gathers me in his arms and cradles me to
him. We stay like that until the very last of the daylight fades
and we fall asleep as one.

Nineteen

Escape

THE SUNLIGHT
is a cold, desolate color when I wake. It reminds me of snow and
Wyoming mountains and a silent world. New York City will never be
silent irrespective of the weather, though. It will steam and smoke
and teem regardless, and I have to make my way across it. Luke’s
sleeping on his front, his arms thrown up above his head, tucked
under his pillow. The white bed sheet is twisted around his waist.
I don’t disturb him when I get up. I’m quieter than I ever thought
I could be as I gather up my abandoned clothes and go in search of
my shirt and bra in the lounge.

A war rages in
my head as I debate whether or not I should hang around to make
myself a coffee, but my cowardice eventually wins out. Luke is
going to be pissed with me. I threw myself at him, practically
forced him to have sex with me because I was on the verge of a
mental breakdown. That was a whole new level of messed up for me.
He probably won’t want me loitering around his apartment when he
wakes up.

I leave as
quietly as I can and run down the building’s three flights of
stairs, feeling more desolate with every step. I know what I’m
going to have to do, but going to my mother’s brownstone in
Manhattan is almost as frightening as the prospect of heading back
to Columbia. I should be able to turn to my mother in times like
this; she should be a shoulder to cry on, when in reality I know
she’d rather go to work no matter how upset I am.

I pull my coat
around myself and step out of the building, immediately seeing that
I was right about the snow. It’s everywhere. Huge banks push up
against the sidewalk where the roads have been cleared, and all the
grey and black and in-between is capped off with a seven-inch layer
of white. Bodies already fill the sidewalk, steaming cups of coffee
in hand, cigarettes in mouths, cell phones pressed to ears. No one
bats an eyelid as I slip in amongst them and I let their anonymity
engulf me.

A block away I
enter the very first diner I come across and order a coffee. I’m
taking a tentative sip, cupping the piping hot polystyrene in my
frozen hands as I walk out of the door, when his voice startles
me.

“
I take it by
the single takeaway you weren’t planning on coming back,
then?”

Luke’s hair is
ruffled and dusted with flecks of white where the snow has started
up again while I was inside. He’s wearing nothing but a t-shirt and
sweat pants and he’s out of breath.

“
What are you
doing?” I sputter.

“
No,” he takes
a step toward me and stuffs his hands in his pockets. ”What
are
you
doing?”

“
I have
class.”

“
Avery, you
don’t have class. It’s six in the morning. And I seriously doubt
you’re planning on going back there today, either. You’re running
away from me.”

“
I’m
not!”

“
Then why
didn’t you wake me up before you left?”

“
Because...” I
scan up and down the street, not wanting to look at him.

“
You really
know how to make a guy feel like crap, you know that?” He steps
towards me. “I freaked the fuck out. We… last night, I knew it was
a bad idea. I know we shouldn’t have done it but I kinda hoped you
wouldn’t hold it against me.”

I stare down
at our feet, noticing he’s wearing thin sneakers he’s barely pulled
onto his feet properly. “Don’t be stupid! I’m not holding it
against you. I assumed you’d be mad at me for lynching
you.”

“
Lynching me?”
Luke laces his fingers together behind his head, pulling his elbows
in to his ears, the same way he did last night when he’d tried to
hold me. His shoulders pull up as he takes a deep breath. “You can
be so damn selfish sometimes, you know that?”

“
What? I
thought you’d prefer it this way.”

He narrows his
eyes and closes the gap between us, drawing me to the side of the
building out of the way of the pedestrians trying to shove their
way past us. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“
I’m not,
Luke. It’s better for the both of us if we pretend last night
didn’t happen. I know you only did it to make me feel better, and
that’s what I really needed, so thank you.”

“
Thank you?”
He shakes his head, like he can’t understand the words.
“
Thank you?”
He
clenches his fists and for a second I think he’s going to punch the
wall. Instead, he takes hold of my hand and bites down on his jaw.
“I didn’t sleep with you last night as a favor, you idiot. Man, how
can you not know that I care about you?”

His words are
sharp and unexpected. I reel away, tugging my hand free. “Luke, you
don’t care about me. You’ve known me forever. You’re just caught up
in this whole mess with my dad.
You
feel sorry for me
.”

“
Seriously?
You think that!” he cries, exasperated. “You’re so
wrong.”

“
Then why are
you always asking to meet up? Asking me to out for coffee with
you?”

Luke angles
his body back down the street but keeps his gaze locked on me.
Anger spills like ink across his beautiful face. “I used to ask you
because you reminded me of your dad. I wanted to make sure you were
okay. That changed pretty quickly, though. I was…I developed
feelings for you. You were sixteen and broken, and so fucking
beautiful, and I couldn’t stop it no matter how hard I tried. These
days it seems as though I can’t remember a time when I haven’t
wanted to be the person you come to when you need someone. When you
aren’t the first thing I think about when I woke up in the
morning.”

“
Now
you’re
the one being
ridiculous,” I say, stepping away from him. “You were with Casey
that whole time. I was a kid.”

“
You were
never just a kid! And I was with Casey for so long for the simple
reason that she didn’t care if I wouldn’t sleep with her. I never
did! Not in five fucking years. And she never left. I kept waiting
for her to go and she never did!” He’s shouting. Businessmen in
their expensive tailored suits scowl at us as they pass, once more
drawing attention that I desperately don’t want.

“
Please,
Luke.”

He flares his
nostrils and stares at the lapel on my coat, too angry to look at
me. “So, what?” he murmurs. “You’re just going to go back to that
guy at Columbia? He’s gonna make you happy?”

“
Noah doesn’t
make me happy. We’re just…we’re nothing. It doesn’t mean
anything.”

Pain flashes
across Luke’s face. “If you’re just using him for sex, if you’re
just taking your mind off everything, then do that with me. I’d
prefer that.”

“
I
can’t.”

“
WHY?
” he yells.

I stare at
him, fighting back my tears. “Because you held my father’s hand
while he died, Luke.” I turn and run. I don’t know if he’s
following me or not but I doubt it. From the horrified look on his
face, he’s never going to talk to me again. The snow comes down
harder and I drop my coffee on the road, and I run from the one,
single good thing in my life.

Twenty

Toxic

AMANDA ST.
French, formally known as Mom, is leaving home when I finally reach
Manhattan. I catch the flash of her bright blonde hair, brilliant
gold against the drab greys of the overcast day, as she pauses on
the doorstep, probably hunting for her keys. I tip the cab driver
way too much, not hanging around for my change, and run down the
street to reach her before she climbs into her Lexus. I nearly
don’t make it. She’s opening the passenger door when I skid to a
halt in front of her. An awkward moment follows where she sees me,
I see her, and the woman she is holding hands with sees me, too.
How did I not notice she wasn’t alone? How did I not notice she was
holding hands with
a woman?

Her eyes
flash, wider than I’ve ever seen them go before. “Avery?” She
shoots an embarrassed look at her…at her friend? The woman is in
her early thirties—far too young to be one of mom’s staple lawyer
friends. Her dark brown hair is pulled back into French braids that
just brush the tops of her shoulders. She’s wearing a Led Zeppelin
t-shirt that’s obviously brand new, which makes me distrust her
instantly: people who buy retro rock t-shirts in order to look hip
rarely ever are. In the three-second gap where my mom stands
silently opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of water,
I’ve categorized the stranger (freckly) and also my mom
(horrified).

“
What are you
doing here? Didn’t you get my email?” she hisses. She angles
herself so that the hand she’s holding with the other woman is
hidden between their bodies.

“
Which email?”
Maybe she’s sent me a message that explains whatever is going on
here. I furrow my brow and try to work it out myself, but I only
come up with one conclusion and it’s too weird to be
true.

“
About your
allowance.
Christmas
,” she says through gritted teeth.

“
Christmas?”
My brain takes a little longer than it should to piece together
what she means. Then I get it. If I’ve received my allowance and I
know she isn’t going to be available to spend any time with me,
ever, then she really can’t foresee any reason for us to
interact.

It’s truly
shocking that, after the past twenty-four hours, I could possibly
feel any worse than I already was. But here I am, feeling like
utter shit.

“
Mom, Maggie
Bright was on campus. She…” I glance at the woman, not sure if I’m
going to get torn apart for breathing a word of what happened in
front of her. The brunette gawps back at me like I have three
heads. Her astounded gaze travels from me to my mom, who has
adopted her trademark scowl. Except this time she looks even madder
than usual.

“
Mom?” the
woman asks, raising an eyebrow.

“
I was getting
around to telling you,” she says crisply. It is her lawyer
voice—the one she uses to distance emotion from words, like she’s
presenting cold, hard facts.

“
I
see.”

“
We can talk
about it later. Why don’t you go on ahead? I’ll meet up with you
for lunch.” Mom’s used the same clipped dismissal with me a hundred
times before, but the brunette clearly isn’t used to it. She shakes
her hand free from my mom’s and holds it out to me.

“
I’m Brit. It
was lovely to meet you…Avery, was it?”

I shake her
hand and nod. “Avery.”

Brit gives me
a warm smile that makes her somehow seem even more freckly and
walks off down the street, making sure to throw a pissed off glower
over her shoulder at my mom as she goes.

“
What the
hell?” Mom spits, grabbing hold of my arm and pulling me up the
steps to the house, rooting for her keys again in the trench coat
she has slung over her arm.

“
Ditto!” I
snap. “Brit, Mom?
Brit?
Are you a lesbian now?” She casts a wary look
about us as she fumbles to get the door open and then shoves me
inside.