Shame (Ruin #3)(33)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

“Don’t lie, Mel.” I shrugged. “Guess I’ll have to find a replacement for you, huh?”

Her face fell. “I’m not abandoning you—”

“Let’s call a spade a spade.” I flicked my cigarette onto the pavement. “You’re abandoning me, but don’t worry, I’ll always be here.” I tapped my fingers against my head and laughed. —The Journal of Taylor B.

Lisa

THE MINUTE WE got into his car, I knew I’d made a mistake. What had I been thinking? After finding out who he really was, what his family was associated with, I was literally the last person on earth he should be with.

Next to murderers on death row. And even then, well… I shuddered. Did he even care about his image? The thought hit me square in the face: of course, he didn’t care. He was teaching. At a university. For a semester.

“When do you leave?” I asked, too curious to keep my mouth shut, even though I knew it was what was best.

“What?” His voice was so smooth it made me forget that he was a bad idea, that we were a horrible idea. “What do you mean?”

“You’re not taking the whole year off.”

He shifted in his seat, a part of his demeanor revealing a bit of nervousness before he straightened up and shrugged. “Christmas. It’s a big deal in our family now that—”

The car swerved.

“Now that?”

“What?” Tristan glanced over at me and raised an eyebrow. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. I was distracted by the, um… raccoon.”

I smirked. “Wow, must have been a pretty raccoon to get you to swerve this nice car.”

“I’d probably label it,” he joked. “It was that pretty.” Tristan turned his head to the side, his smile brightening up the mood in the car.

He was clearly unaware of what that smile did to a girl; he shouldn’t be flashing it all over the place if he truly wanted one night of no commitments where I kept my hands to myself, rather than running them through his hair.

I cleared my throat and tapped my fingers against the side of the door. “So, where are we going?”

“Do you have to know everything?” He grinned, taking a turn down a road I didn’t recognize.

“Yes?”

“You plan,” he stated calmly. “I may label things, but you plan, don’t you?”

I coughed into my hand and tucked my hair behind my ear then tried to offer a noncommittal shrug. “Who doesn’t? I’m a college student. I’m basically forced to plan.”

“Not normal things,” He shook his head slightly, taking the next left. “You plan everything, don’t you? Not just your classes and your major, but your life, each month, down to what you’re going to wear the next day on the night before. Tell me you don’t pick out your entire outfit with jewelry before you go to bed at night. Tell me your toothbrush isn’t thrown away every thirty days so you can replace it with a new one,” He reached for my hand. “Tell me you wash your jeans.”

“Wh-what?”

“They aren’t supposed to be washed.” He brushed a kiss across the inside of my wrist. “But you plan, and you like things to be… orderly, so you wash them, just like I’m sure you don’t own a pair of white sneakers for fear they’ll get dirty.”

“Well, white’s stupid.” I jerked my hand away and crossed my arms like a toddler. “And I don’t wash all my jeans.”

His eyebrows arched even though he didn’t look at me.

“Okay, fine. So I wash them after wearing them even for half a day. Not a big deal. And really, isn’t this just calling the kettle black? I mean you label see-through plastic containers. Uh, I think we know they’re strawberries.”

Tristan burst out laughing. “Fine. You’ve got me there.”

“I do.” I nodded sternly. “So we both have… issues.”

“Which makes my idea for tonight perfect.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

Tristan put the car in park and turned off the ignition. “Get out of the car, and I’ll show you.”

I looked around the empty parking lot. We were at a pier I didn’t recognize. “The parking lot’s really dark.”

“Anonymous,” Tristan whispered. “You thought that meant crowds?”

“Well, no.” But really I hadn’t thought parking lot either.

He opened his door. “You can either follow me or stay in the car, but I imagine your curiosity will get the best of you. Another weakness.”

“That isn’t attractive.” I scowled. “Pointing out all my weaknesses.”

“It’s only fair that I point yours out, since mine are so obvious.” Tristan eyed me up and down.

“Name one.”

His whisper was so low I almost didn’t hear it. “I’m looking at her.”

The door slammed behind him.

Without another thought, I rushed out of the car and fell into step beside him. I gripped his hand so tightly it almost hurt.

“Knew you’d see it my way.”

“You’re really controlling.”

“And a compliment.” The moonlight washed over his features, making him look like an angel. “Careful with your pretty words. Don’t want to harm my ego.”

I rolled my eyes. “Your ego is just fine, I’m sure.”

“Always.” He smirked. “Now, up you go.”

“Up? Up where—?”

“There.” He pointed to a dock, where just beyond was a small houseboat.

“It’s like Sleepless in Seattle.”

“Rules…” Tristan stopped me on the middle of the pier, his hand brushing my lower back. “…for our night of anonymity.”

I looked up into his eyes and tried desperately not to get lost in their gray depths, but how was I supposed to keep myself from leaning forward when his body was so warm? His expression both dangerous and inviting. “I’m listening.”

“No phones.” He slid his hand around my backside, carefully lifting my phone from my back pocket, his fingers brushing bare skin across my back in the process.

Goose bumps broke out on my flesh, and I fought the urge to let out a little moan. “Fine.” My confidence was wavering already.

“No pictures.”

“Kinda hard without my phone.”

“True.” He squinted at me and crossed his arms. “No promises.”