Page 34 of Something Tattered
Wherewaseveryone? Gone, that's where – at least when it came to people who mattered.
Unable to bear his scrutiny a moment longer, I looked away and let my gaze settle on the long, lonely driveway.
Really, this was none of his business. Just because he'd rescued me – twice, in fact – from people who I'd been hoping to avoid, that didn't mean he was my friend, as much as I'd like to think otherwise.
I was still pondering that when his voice, softer now, interrupted my thoughts. "Hey. Melody."
Surprised, I turned to face him. This was the first time he'd said my name. In fact, until this very moment, I hadn't realized that he evenknewmy name. But of course, hehadto know. Everyone knew, just like everyone knew that my parents had died in a private plane crash over Lake Michigan.
It had, after all, made national news.
I said, "Uh, yeah?"
His voice was quiet. "Happy birthday."
I felt color rise to my face. Obviously, he only knew because Aunt Vivian had mentioned it. Still, it was a nice thing for him to say.
I heard myself say, "Thanks."
"Listen, I've got a question."
I gazed up at him, wondering what it was. And, as I looked into his amazing eyes, I wondered something else. What would life be like if I were just a normal girl, some no-name townie with a bunch of siblings, crowded into a bustling house that smelled of bacon in the morning and pie at night?
If I werethatgirl, would a guy like Joel ever ask me out? Would he ever say something like,"Hey, you wanna hit the beach sometime?"
Would a guy like him – or anyone else, for that matter – ever look at me as something more than Braydon Blaire's only daughter, the theoretical heiress to gobs of money and a massive estate?
Sadly, I'd never know.
But Ididknow one thing. I liked the sound of my name on his lips. I wanted to hear it again, if not now, then sometime soon.
Standing in the quiet night, I gave a little shake of my head.Damn it.He'd said something, and I hadn't yet responded. I said, "Sorry, what question?"
"How about that party? At T.J.'s. You wanna go?" He glanced toward the Camaro. "Say the word. I'll have you there in five minutes."
I bit my lip. The offer was so very tempting. Still, I had to say it. "Thanks, but I don't think that's a great idea."
"Why not?"
"You ever been to T.J.'s?"
"Yeah. A couple times."
"Well then you know, it's right next to the police station."
"So?"
So, wasn't it obvious? Again, I looked to the Camaro. With what I hoped was a light-hearted laugh, I said, "So you'd probably get arrested."
He shrugged. "Eh, I'll take my chances."
I turned to study his face. From the looks of it, he meant it, too. I was insanely touched.
Still, he had no idea what he was dealing with. He wasn't from around here. But I was.
On the upside, there was practically no crime. On the downside, this gave the police plenty of time to watch for strangers driving stolen hot-rods with missing plates.
Reluctantly, I shook my head. "Honestly, I'm pretty sure we'd get caught."
