Page 66 of Reckless At Raleigh High
My heart skips a little at the gentle upward tilt of Alex’s mouth when he sees me. Brushing his thick, wavy hair back out of his eyes, he alters his course so his path will cross mine, and reality seems to shift and bend. I’m never going to get used to this. Never. Alessandro Moretti, somehow, bizarrely, miraculously, amazingly, is mine. He loves me. Him, with his smoldering,I’m-gonna-set-your-whole-damn-bed-on-fire-and-to-hell-with-the-worldattitude, and his mind-blowingly handsome face, and his intricate, beautiful artwork that covers his body…all of him is mine. I don’t think that’s ever going to make sense to me.
When I stop in front of him, not giving a shit that we’re causing an obstruction to our fellow classmates, or that the football team jocks outside Jacob’s locker are still drilling holes into the side of Alex’s face, he huffs softly under his breath, allowing the smallest suggestion of a smile to form on his face as he brushes his fingertips over my cheek. “Damn, Parisi. I don’t think you’re ever gonna stop being the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he murmurs.
I lean into his hand, briefly closing my eyes, enjoying the warmth of him, just for a second. “Funny. I was just thinking the same thing.”
He hooks his index finger through the belt loop of my jeans at my right hip, tugging me closer to him. Close enough that he can dip down and whisper into my ear. His hot breath makes me shiver as it skates over the skin of my neck. “I’m not beautiful. I’m a handsome bastard. And don’t you forget it,” he growls.
Goosebumps break out on my arms and over the entire expanse of my back. “Cocky,” I accuse, angling my head back just enough that I can make eye contact with him. “You’re very sure of yourself, Mr. Moretti. When the hell did your ego get so damn big anyway?”
His dark eyes glimmer with pleasure as he tugs on my belt loop again, closing the small gap between us so that our bodies are flush. “The day you agreed to marry me,” he whispers. “If a girl as stunning, smart, kind, and brave asyouis willing to get hitched tome, then I must be pretty fucking amazing, right?”
I shove him in his chest, laughing. “Maybe I just pitied you, ’cause I knew how heartbroken you’d be if I said no.”
“Well, that’s true. I would have been fucking devastated if you turned me down,” he says. His eyes are still full of mirth, but his expression becomes a little more serious as he takes me by the hand, pulling me into the little alcove next to a water fountain. “Seriously, though,Argento. You don’t need to follow through on this if you’re not ready for it. My mom married Giacomo so quick, she had no idea who he really was—”
I hold up a hand, pressing it against his chest, cutting him off before he can wander too far down this road. “I know exactly who you are. And I want to marry you more than I’ve ever wanted anything, so stop talking right now before I begin to worry thatyoudon’t wantmeand I have a panic attack, okay?”
Alex leans back against the wall—all six foot three of him pure muscle, arrogance, and vulnerability, hidden behind a wicked smirk. He works his hands beneath the hem of my t-shirt, his palms burning into my bare skin as takes hold of me just above my hips and grips me tightly. “Does that mean you’re gonna go with me to this stupid fucking prom thing, then?” he asks. From his tone, you’d think this was an off-the-cuff remark, but I know Alex. I know that he’s probably been stewing on this question ever since he arrived at Raleigh High this morning. He’s acting way too casually about the question for it really be of no concern to him.
Trying not to laugh, I marshal my features into a stern expression and look him in the eye. “I don’t know. Senior prom’s a big deal. I think you’re supposed to make some kind of grand gesture when you ask a girl to be your date to such an auspicious event. Y’know…jump out of a plane and land on the school field, holding a placard or something.”
“You’re not serious,” Alex deadpans.
“I think Gareth Foster’s organizing a flash mob in the cafeteria at lunch for Stacey Jones.”
He’s gone a little pale. “I don’t really think synchronized dancing is a good idea,Argento. You’d lose all respect for me.”
“Maybe you could read a poem about how awesome I am in front of the entire year?”
“Or maybe you’re fucking with me,” he answers, arching an eyebrow suspiciously. “Seeing as how you’d glue my mouth closed before you’d ever let me do that.”
I do laugh now. “All right, all right. You got me. No outlandish prom invitations required here. I think it’s safe to say I’ll happily be your date to every party and event from here on out until the end of time. Gotta say, though…I’m surprised you even want to go to prom.”
He rolls his eyes dramatically, leaning his head against the wall behind him. “And why’s that?”
“Prom goes against everything you stand for.”
That crooked smile of his makes another appearance. In a heartbeat, he’s spun me around, pressing my back against the wall, and his lips are mere millimeters away from his own. Now that the prying eyes of Raleigh High’s student body have been blocked out by the tumbling dark waves of his hair, he lets himself smile fully—a cautious, secret smile that feels wonderful pressed against my mouth when he kisses me. He leaves me breathless and stupefied when he inches back a little. “And what, pray tell, do I stand for, Silver Parisi?” he whispers.
“Non-conformity. Anarchy. Chaos. Mayhem in general.” I reel off the list, still reeling inside my head, too. Fifty years down the line, a kiss from this man will still send me spinning out of control, I already know it.
“Looks like youdoknow me,” Alex says quietly. “You’re right. I never once thought I’d willingly signing up to go to a high school dance, but…y’know what,Argento? Prom’snormal.It’s a rite of passage for a girl in high school. I don’t want you to skip it just because I’m a salty bastard who hates everyone and everything in this world apart from you. You deserve to witness the entire, ridiculous spectacle. And…more than anything, you deserve normal. After everything you’ve been through, and all the shit that’s still not resolved…you deserve one night where all you have to worry about is what dress you’re gonna wear, and if you’re gonna be able to dance all night in your skyscraper heels. So yeah. Prom. We’re doing it. And it’s gonna be the best night ever, because I said so. The end.”
“The end?”
“Yeah.” He nods, as if that has sealed the deal and finalized the whole thing. The steely look in his eyes says he’ll brook no argument on the matter…which is actually fine by me.
I haven’t even contemplated prom. Even with all of the posters and the notices and the announcements being shoved down our throats at every turn, actually buying as ticket and attending the event seemed so preposterous that it never crossed my mind. Now that Alex has lodged the seed into my mind—buying a dress, and dancing with him in front of everyone, and just getting to spend the night together as two teenagers in love? Shit, that sounds pretty spectacular to me.
35
ALEX
Ashrill blast of the bell signals that class is about to begin, and Silver kisses me quickly before darting off into the crowd. I make it three steps past the row of lockers, heading for the science block, when I notice Zander leaning against the scuffed and scratched metal of a locker door, idly staring at his fingernails. He pretends to start when he notices me standing in front of him.
“Fancy seeing you here,” he says, beaming. I groan, hurrying past him, but the persistent fucker falls into step alongside me.
“If you’re about to give me shit for asking my girlfriend to go to prom with me, then don’t bother, okay? I’m not embarrassed about it, so there’s no point cobbling together any cutting one-liners.”
