Page 46 of Paging Dr. Hart
For this one night, I want to be like them.
Playing it cool, I say, “I have all weekend to study. Besides, we can just stay for a little while. Okay, Shelly?” She drove us here. She’s the one I need to convince.
“I’m fine with staying if you are.” She shrugs, still looking at me like she knows I’m up to something but can’t quite figure it out.
Even though he invited us, Rafe hesitates, giving me one last reluctant glance before we step into the Starlight. I’ve never been inside the dilapidated building before. The scene looks like something out of a horror movie. Debris and trash litter the floor. Graffiti climbs across the closed elevator doors. Faded and torn sunset red wallpaper hangs in long strips, peeling off the walls. There must still be electricity to the hotel because a mismatched collection of floor lamps scattered around the lobby emits random pools of light. Not exactly a “party” type of atmosphere.
This gloomy ambiance doesn’t stop the people gathered in clusters throughout the room. They drink, smoke, and laugh with abandon. Someone has set up a boombox in the corner. It pumps out heavy techno dance music with bass so loud it reverberates through the soles of my shoes.
As soon as we enter the party, Rafe disappears. Within minutes, he’s back bearing a gift. He hands Shelly an unopened bottle of wine. I’ve never seen wine like this before. It’s cotton candy pink. Shelly looks at the label and nods approvingly, like she’s some fancy sommelier. Wasting no time, she unscrews the cap and takes a big swig straight from the bottle. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she passes it over to me.
I hold the wine up to the sporadic light, turning it this way and that to read the label.Boone’s Strawberry Hill. I’ve never had alcohol before, neverwanted it, but I feel the weight of Shelly’s and Rafe’s stares, so I take a timid sip. It tastes sweet, like liquefied candy, with a sour fermented aftertaste.
“Not bad,” I admit.
Laughing loudly, Shelly snatches the bottle out of my hands. “Not bad? Is that all you can say? This stuff is freaking delicious. It’s as easy on your throat going down as it is when it’s coming back up.”
“Eww, Shelly. Gross.” My lip curls in disgust.
She laughs and takes another gulp. The casual way that she’s drinking makes me think she’s no stranger to alcohol. It strikes me that Shelly has a life beyond me. One we don’t talk about much. Full of friends and activities I know nothing about. What else does my best friend do when we’re apart?
Shelly hands me back the bottle. Emboldened, I drink a mouthful and then another. The wine has an acidic sting going down my throat. I evaluate myself. Am I drunk yet? How long does it take to detect the effects of alcohol? So far, I feel the same as usual. It’s almost disappointing.
Shelly waves to friends from her apartment building and goes over to them. Rafe leans against the wall next to me with his arms crossed over his chest, watching the crowd like a king surveying his kingdom. I rack my brain, trying to think of something witty to say, but come up blank. He makes me nervous, a tantalizing kind of anxious excitement. It’s a feeling I hate and love at the same time.
Finally, he cuts the silence. “What are you doing here, Tiffany?” His eyes stay fixed on the crowd in front of us.
My first response is pure relief that he remembers my name. The last time he said it out loud was when he rescued me. My second thought is anger at his disdainful tone. It’s like he’s judging me. He barely knows me, so he has no right to make assumptions. I lean back against the wall next to him and cross my arms over my chest, hugging myself. “My mom got sick. Cancer. I need money to pay the bills.”
Rafe lets out a low, harsh bark of laughter. “We all need money.” A lazy wave of his hand to indicate the crowd. “That’s why we’re all here, isn’t it?” His hand drops back down to his side like it’s too heavy to keep holding up. “I just thought you’d find a better way to get it. A smarter way.”
“What smarter way?” I rotate toward him, a moth drawn to his flame.
“I don’t know. You’re the brainiac. Not me.” Rafe continues to study the people gathering in front of us. More teens have joined the party now. I’ve lost sight of Shelly. Too many people block my view. Someone turns the music up even louder. Kids dance frantically to the heavy beat.
“Why? You don’t want me here?” Sadness tingles in the back of my throat. I’m certain he’s rejecting me.
Brilliant green eyes shift over to mine. They glitter in the lamplight, feral and fierce. “You don’t belong here. You belong somewhere better.” He sounds so certain.
“What do you mean by better?” I clench my fists tight with frustration.
His eyes drill into me like he can convince me with the intensity of his gaze. “I meanbetter. Away from here. Away from us.”
There it is. The opportunity I’ve been waiting for. “What if I don’t want to be away from you?” Standing on the street in a bikini has given me a newfound sense of self-confidence. My developing body used to scare me, but now that I’ve made money taking pictures with strangers, I see that my body can be a tool, a weapon even, used to get what I want.
An unfamiliar boldness overcomes me. Maybe it’s the alcohol in my veins or maybe it’s a year of pent-up longing. Either way, I’m taking advantage of this moment. I’m done daydreaming. Desire for him wells up like blood in a cut, slow and throbbing. I push off the wall and move to stand in front of him. In slow motion, I let my jacket casually slip off one shoulder, leaving it bare. Rafe’s razor-sharp eyes follow the motion. I watch with satisfaction as he licks his lips, a hungry look stirring to life. His eyes flick back to me and narrow. He knows I did it on purpose.
“You should stay away from me,” he warns again.
“No.” I know he’s bad, but he does it so well I don’t care. Playing with fire, I step closer, between his legs, trapping him between my body and the wall. A profound sense of power thrills through me as the pace of his breathing quickens. It confirms I’m not the only one feeling the pulse of need between us. I hold still, delicately balanced inches away from him.
Rough hands move too fast for me to follow, grabbing my upper arms and pulling me to him. Rafe kisses me, or maybe I kiss him. It’s all too quick andoverwhelming to figure out the details. All I know is his lips are on mine, his hard body crushing me as he holds me close. Calloused fingers move, burrowing into my hair as he deepens the kiss. He’s not gentle, his tongue plunging into my open mouth. He tastes sweet, some liquor I don’t recognize.
My heartbeat thunders in my ears while Rafe’s heart pounds under my hands. A fire that I’ve haven’t felt before ignites deep in my belly, shifting into my core, molten and hot. Guided purely by instinct, I press my pelvis against his. A low growl rises from his throat, which makes me grind harder against him.
His hand slides under the edge of my jacket, seeking my bare flesh, and then drops to my waist, where he urges our bodies closer together. I’m panting against his lips. I’ve never felt so out of control, so not myself. His mouth is ravenous, sliding along my jaw to graze my earlobe. I arch my chest, baring my neck open for his touch and pressing my breasts tight against him. His lips continue their tour of my body and then return to mine, bruising in their aggression.
He’s awakened something deep inside of me. Something primal. I want this kiss to go on and on. I want to slip into the darkened corners of the room with him. I want to do things my mind can’t even imagine but my body already knows.
