Page 31 of Dove
Her dark hair was long, lying past her shoulders in bouncy waves, with radiant tanned skin to match, gifted by the sun after hours of outdoor work. Full lips, such a reddish pink they reminded me of ripe watermelon. I wondered if they tasted just as sweet?—
I had to physically shake my head to dislodge that line of thinking, then continued loading cases of beer into the back of my truck far more aggressively than I should have. I’d have to warn whoever wanted Budweiser tonight to crack it open slowly—unless they wanted a beer shower.
My thoughts surrounding Dove lately were intrusive and distracting. I tried everything I could to get them to stop. When school let out, I made sure to stay busy on the farm, taking on extra chores that directed me away from Dove, hoping she wouldn’t end up following. As much as her presence haunted me, I didn’t have the heart to shoo her away. Not when her eyeslit up when she looked at me, and her mouth crooked into a pleased smile, like she was happy just to be around me.
The sadness that had once lingered in her eyes like a shadow was nothing more than a memory now. She was happy. Shedeservedto be happy. I didn’t want to damage that.
I also didn’t want to damage what we had, either.
But the thoughts and feelings that had started to consume me…
Theywould.
So when the weekend approached and Dove asked me what we’d be doing for “Feast Friday” as we called it, I suggested something else.
A party, instead, down by the lake.
With food and booze—considering our parents were gone, the opportunity was too great to pass up—and more importantly, other people.
Hearing the familiar shuffling steps approach in the gravel behind me had my back tensing, and I set the case of beer in my hands down hard enough to rattle the bottles inside.
“Remind me again why you wanted to throw a party?” Dove asked, her voice carrying the edge of a whine.
I forced my muscles to relax and bent down to grab another case of beer Mitch, the neighboring farm’s oldest son, had dropped off. He wasn’t the partying type, but he was the only one I knew who was old enough to buy beer—and would do it for a favor and a twenty thrown in. All I had to do was help him with his truck next week. An easy trade.
I shrugged causally in response to Dove’s question and heaved the last of the beer into the bed of the truck.
“You were practically on the edge of your seat last week with that cliffhanger,” Dove protested. “Don’t you want to see what happens?”
I wanted nothing more than to sit down with a greasy slice of pizza and immerse myself in the post-apocalyptic zombie happenings of Rick Grimes’s group. But I couldn’t. Not when my skin felt stretched tight at Dove’s nearness, and even standing a few feet away, the smell of her shampoo made my mouth water.
“We can record it,” I volleyed back, hitching the tailgate up with a slam. When I turned, Dove’s hip was cocked, arms crossed, eyebrow raised, assessing me.
“MaybeIdon’t want to party tonight,” she insinuated haughtily.So there!might as well have been tacked on to the end of her sentence.
I shrugged again, breezing past her.
Goddamn whatever they put in that strawberry-scented shampoo she used. It made me want to lean down and take a bite out of her. My shoulders hunched at the thought, and I dug my nails into the meat of my palms, letting the sting ground me.
Shouldn’t be thinking those kinds of thoughts,I chastised myself.
“Then don’t come.” The moment the words left my mouth I knew they sounded harsher than I’d intended.
Fuck, I didn’t want to take my frustrations out on Dove. It wasn’t her fault I was having these sick thoughts. That I was broken andwrong.
“Josh,” her voice called, hurt, stopping me in my tracks.
I opened my mouth to apologize but she sighed, a deep exhale through her nose, and asked, “What do we need for tonight?” Her voice held a tight, resigned note to it, like she’d realized it was either a party at the lake with a group of us or a night spent alone. “Is there anything I can do?”
I hated that I was only giving her two choices, neither of which she preferred.
When I turned to face her, she stepped cautiously toward me until I could reach out and throw an arm around her shoulders,tugging her tight to my side. I breathed in the delicious scent of her and tried to think brotherly thoughts.
“Just bring yourself,” I told her gently, holding back from pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “And make sure you’re ready to have fun.”
Her hand skimmed low across my stomach as she hugged my waist.
My teeth sunk into the flesh of my cheek until the metallic tang of blood hit my tongue, the bright blight of pain sobering me.
