All Things Pretty (Pretty #3)(35)
Author: M. Leighton

Her eyes are glued to mine, a damn near irresistible gravity pulling us together. “It’s not like you can anyway. I mean, we’re in public. With my little brother. What could you possibly touch?”

I reach down and smear my hand in mud. With her eyes locked on mine, I reach between us and flatten my palm on her chest, right over her heart. “This. I’d touch this.”

Her eyes search mine for a couple of heartbeats, looking for my meaning. I know when she finds it. Clear green crystal melts into liquid. I see it just before she closes her eyes. She squeezes them shut, like it hurts to look at me. Rather than touching her anywhere else, like I want to, or saying anything else, like I want to, I just press my palm flush against her, feeling the steady, rapid beat of her heart.

After nearly a minute, I lower my hand, reaching for hers. “Come on. I’ve got towels in the truck,” I say, tugging her along behind me.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE- TOMMI

After he drops us off at my house, my eyes follow Sig’s truck until it disappears around the corner. I don’t want him to go. But he can’t stay.

I try to smother my sigh as I turn toward the front door. I let us in and Travis goes immediately for a quick shower and then into his room, where he’ll undoubtedly stay until dinner and then, afterward, until morning. I can’t decide how much is typical teenager or typical Asperger’s and how much is something I should worry about. At the root of the problem is that Travis is hardly typical in any way, so I’m a continuous ball of worrying yet trying not to worry. And probably making a load of mistakes along the way.

“How about pizza for supper?” I call down the hall. “I didn’t really plan anything.”

I was too busy lying to Lance to plan dinner.

And I had to lie because I can’t get Sig out of my head. Or out of my blood. He seems to have stormed the carefully guarded castle of my mind and taken over. And if that’s not bad enough, I’m starting to feel things other than just desire for him. And that is trouble that I don’t need.

That’s what my brain tells me. But my body and my heart have different arguments. Like the fact that I’ve never really felt this way about someone before. Like the fact that everyone needs some pleasure, some comfort, some…substance to their lives. Things other than obligation and responsibility. Right?

I never really craved the touch of another person before. Every hand that’s ever been on my body has been there for a specific reason, not because I’ve wanted it there. Until Sig.

I never really craved the company of another person before either. At sixteen, my life changed forever and I haven’t had time for simple pleasures like laughing or being frivolous or falling in love. Even though I don’t really have time now, I’m beginning to feel like I need it. Like I need Sig. Not his help or his protection, just his presence. I like being with him. A lot. And there’s a big part of me that says he’s worth the risk.

But I can’t. I shouldn’t. It could go so very, very wrong.

Or it could go right, my other half argues. So very, very right.

And then what? Where do we go from there?

There’s nowhere to go. It can never be anything more than just a fling, no matter how much I wish it otherwise. Our paths are too different.

But maybe that’s enough–an amazing fling. It would have to be.

A one-time indulgence. Just to get it out of our system. To slake this undeniable hunger. Just one time, one night and no more. All things return to normal after that. Hands off, strictly professional.

But we’d get the one time.

One perfect time.

As I call in the pizza and empty the dishwasher while I wait for it, I give myself over to the back-and-forth of my internal arguments. But in the end, after all is said and done, one side wins. One thought continually flutters to the surface. Just once.

We’re both adults. We can handle what will amount to a one-night stand. We’ve both had them before. I mean, I have. Many years ago, but still… And I’m sure Sig has. I mean, a guy like that…who looks like he does…and flirts like he does… He’s probably had several.

I go motionless, standing perfectly still with a plate in my hand, frozen by the thought. Even though the one-night-stand contention was just supposed to have been a case in point for going through with this, the thought of Sig with another woman sends a furious streak of jealousy speeding through me. It’s almost painful it’s so intense. The intensity of it, however, serves to reinforce the consideration of being with him once. So does another thought.

If it were possible to completely erase all other women from a man’s mind in a single night, I’d choose that. The mere suggestion that I might be the only person on his mind brings me comfort and a happy smile. Which is insane because it doesn’t work that way. But it doesn’t stop me from wishing it did.

Travis and I eat in silence. He seems especially sulky, which surprises me.

“Didn’t you have fun today?” I ask.

“Yeah,” comes his glum response.

“Then what’s wrong?”

Travis pushes his plate across the table at me, almost violently, standing up so fast his chair tips over. “We’ll never have a life like that. Normal.”

He stalks off, back down the hall to his bedroom, leaving me sitting at the table with my mouth hanging open. After I recover, I follow him.

I knock softly and then crack the door, sticking only my head inside. “Travis, that’s what I’m working toward. It just takes time.”

He’s lying on his bed, his chin on his chest, with his hood pulled low over his eyes. That damn hoodie!

“Even then, we’ll never have a life like that.”

“Don’t be so sure,” I tell him, hoping that maybe one day, I can give him what he’s missed out on all of his life. “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.”

Travis gives me a withering look. “We don’t need tricks. We need a miracle.”

On that petulant note, Travis pushes ear buds into his ears and starts scrolling through his phone for music. The end of the conversation, obviously. Which is probably good. I don’t know that I could add anything more right now anyway. I can’t promise him a miracle. I can’t really promise him much of anything, other than I’m trying with all that’s in me to make a better life for us. For him. Even for me. There has to be more than this.

After I clean up the kitchen and feed Mom, I’m straightening her room when Travis pops his head in. “So you’re staying in tonight?”