Between Now & Never (26 page)

“He’s been a great brother.” Rachel picks up a spool of thread and fiddles with the end. “After Jimmy died . . . I was in bad shape.” She studies the spool, her finger twisting around the dangling thread as though the motion is therapeutic. “Even though we were really young, Jimmy and I butted heads. I still remember. We never got along. We were way too similar. I just wish we’d figured out a way for those similarities to bring us together instead of push us apart.”

She sets the thread down. Flashes a tense smile. “Cody was there for me through the worst of it. He even bought me flowers last Valentine’s Day, back when I was still in junior high. His buddy delivered them to my classroom.”

Warmth pricks me, deep inside. Just when I think it’s possible to thoroughly hate Cody Rush, he finds a way to weasel his way back into my heart.

“I wish he was taking you, too,” Rachel says with a sneaky smile.

Here I am determined to keep my distance from Cody until we part ways at graduation, and yet his mom and sister are starting to feel like good friends.

I’m not sure how to reply, so I reach out and pull her into a hug.

Ten minutes later I make my way down the stairs with the coral dress folded over my arm. Janice wanted to finish a few things on the blue and red dresses.

“Thank you so much,” I tell her. “These dresses are incredible.”

“You’re welcome,” she says and smiles. “You’ll have to let me know how everyone at Chadwick Manor treats you during the dance tonight, okay? The staff. The food.”

I turn at the bottom of the stairs, curious as to why Janice Rush would care so much about the quality of our homecoming venue. Chadwick Manor is a colossal Tuscan estate that rests on six acres of lush landscaping here in eastern Gilbert. Not far from Cody’s house, actually. Huge reception hall. Fountains. A waterfall. It’s on the pricy end for a high school dance venue, so we’ve never had one there. I figured our senior class vice president—Candace—must have an in with whoever owns the place.

“Okay,” I say.

“It was my mom’s dream,” Janice says, not making sense. “She loved the flowers and the gardens. The events. I took after her there. Owning a reception venue was her dream. She’s gone, but it’s been fun keeping that dream alive.”

Chadwick Manor. Reception venue. Her mother’s dream. I know the Chadwicks owned a good portion of Gilbert at one point.

“Wait,” I say. “Chadwick is your maiden name?”

Janice’s expression twists into something between a smile and a furrow of the brow. “Cody didn’t tell you?”

Chadwick farms.
Chadwick Estates.

Oh my gosh. I knew Cody was rich, but this is something else.

“Well, he—” My voice is defensive, followed by a delayed, “no.”

Candace lives in Chadwick Estates as well. She’s the senior class vice president and is in charge of homecoming. Now I know who her in with the venue was: Cody.

My gut coils as I remember the way she kissed him on the football field, practically stamping her claim on him for the whole school to see.

I climb into old Rusty and lay my new dress over the passenger seat. My goal of forgetting Cody tonight and immersing myself in homecoming with Lucas and our group—
at Chadwick Manor
—is as good as hopeless.

I recall what Rachel said about Cody wanting to take me to homecoming, and my foolish heart dares to hope she’s right. I look at the dress resting on the passenger seat. Thanks to Janice, I’m going to look good tonight, that’s for sure. I fire up Rusty, conflicted emotions clashing inside as I start down the road with Cody Rush on my mind.

M
y head is a mess, everything knotted into jumbled chaos ever since that flashback I had at the shooting range. Dad asked if I trusted Julianna, trusted her family. How can I answer that? I can’t even trust myself. I was part of a drug deal!

I dribble the ball. Bounce, touch. Between the legs. I toss it up and it falls right in the hoop. Uncanny. This afternoon has been like that, everything I toss up on our backyard court sinking into the net with a beautiful
swoosh
. Too bad I’m not in a game right now. Basketball is the only thing that successfully distracts me from the accident, from Julianna.

Mom calls from the patio, reminding me about homecoming tonight. And I’m full-on sweating.

I take a quick shower and throw on my tux. Put on some cologne. I grab the keys and head for the garage, almost forgetting the corsage Mom made. Luckily, she’s on top of things.

A half hour and forty pictures taken by Holly’s parents later, we meet up with the rest of our group for dinner. Then the dance. I never thought I’d go to a school dance at Grandma’s reception center. Desert Mountain High was too far away. Yet here I am.

I walk up the stone path to the giant building, thinking of how I came here as a kid when it was being built. Everything has changed. My life went up in flames, it would seem, everything crashing down when we moved here and I got in that accident. All of my dreams, my goals—flattened. Or maybe these thoughts are a cop-out, an easy way to excuse yet another failure. Maybe basketball isn’t a lost cause. Not yet.

The heavy bass shaking the dance floor pulls me from my thoughts. The ballroom is alive with music. Dancing. Swiveling spotlights. I lead Holly into the crowd where Connor, Sam, Pablo, and the rest of the guys from our group are dancing with their dates. Holly looks nervous, like this isn’t her typical crowd.

The DJ is solid, though, spinning all the right tunes, the perfect mix of slow and fast songs. I crack a few jokes and Holly laughs. She loosens up after a few songs and eventually so do I.

Until I see her.

Everyone does. Her small waist is wrapped in tight folds of fabric, the length of her tan legs accented by a pair of heels that most girls would break a leg in. She’s never looked more comfortable, though, or happier. She towers over Lucas by at least an inch, but she doesn’t seem to mind. She stands tall. Confident. Tempting. My eyes drink her in, her hair hanging in loose curls down her back.

My dad’s warning to stay away from her takes a leave of absence from my brain. The music, the lights, everyone around me, fade into nothing. For me, there’s no one in the room but her.

Holly touches my arm, bringing the lights and music into focus again. Another slow song starts. Holly’s friend Samantha has caught up to us. They say something about using the bathroom and I wonder if I should offer to escort them.

“We’ll be right back,” Holly says and walks off with Samantha before I get a chance, leaving only one person standing in my way.

Lucas.

He isn’t seizing his opportunity to dance with Julianna, though, and that’s his loss. His hands dig into his pockets as he talks to a friend. They flick a disgusted glance around the ballroom, like something about this place isn’t to their liking.

“Do you mind?” I ask when I reach them, extending a hand toward Julianna and waiting for Lucas to look my way. He finally does, shock appearing on his face as he glances from me to Julianna.

Julianna turns as well, doing a double take as her jaw drops.

“Whatever, man,” Lucas says, his upturned lip telling me to get lost.

“Thanks,” I say, taking that as a yes.

I slip my hand in hers. I lead a speechless Julianna into the middle of the dance floor and slide a hand around her waist. “Dance with me?”

She casts a fleeting glance toward Lucas, like she’s still in shock. “Do I have a choice now?”

“You could always slap me in the face. Leave me standing here alone.”

She lifts a brow upward, a flirtatious expression crossing her face. “Tempting.”

I wrap my other arm around her as well, crushing the distance between us. Slowly, I lean toward her ear, breathing her in. “Dance with me,” I whisper, feeling her resistance ebb as she melts into me.

I close my eyes.

Her hands touch my shoulders, hesitant at first. Then she wraps her arms around my neck and I open my eyes, memorizing every detail about this moment. We turn in slow circles, her cheek on my chest, my nose in her dark curls.

“This is the song,” she says, one of her hands gliding down to rest on my chest.

“Mm-hm,” I reply, and slide my hands down as well, feeling the length of fabric along her back, a thin layer that rests between her skin and mine.

“You remember?”

“I couldn’t forget,” I say. This is the song we listened to in my car that day she broke down. I bought her a pair of sunglasses. She fell asleep in my living room. That was the first day I saw any chance of us getting together.

We dance like this, breathing in the same air. Problems fading into nothing. For a song that ends too soon.

I hold on to her long after the song ends and another starts. Her lips are so close to mine. A fast song shakes the ground beneath us and everyone is matching their movements to the beat.

Julianna begins to pull away, pausing when I don’t let go.

At last I take a step back. “Thank you,” I say, meaning it and regretting it at the same time—regretting the end of having her in my arms.

Her lips part, her eyes searching mine in a way that almost crumbles my weak resolve to be a good boy. Not to kiss someone else’s date in the middle of the homecoming dance floor. I brush a strand of dark hair behind her ear, her blue eyes pulling me in regardless. Everything about her drawing me to her with a magnetic force I can’t refuse.

Yet I somehow find the strength to walk away.

I
grip the bathroom sink, needing something to hold me in place after dancing with Cody. We were so close—dangerously close—like two balloons covered in static, a charged force drawing us together. I recall his arms embracing me, his hands tracing the length of my back. His touch sending warmth over my skin. I check my reflection in the mirror. Blue eyes stare back at me, and my cheeks flush with color.

His lips were inching toward mine. I can’t deny it: Cody Rush was about to kiss me.

And then he was gone. Disappeared, practically.

I stare at my reflection, trying to steady my uneven breathing.

Giving up, I dash from the bathroom. Decision made. I’m not turning back now.

I pass the drinking fountain, searching the hallways. I fling aside all thoughts of Cody’s dad and my mom, all fears of Vic and my dad warning me against Cody. I turn down a maze of corridors, searching left and right. And then I see him. At the end of a darkened passage. Alone. Pacing.

“Cody,” I say.

He turns at the sound of my voice but looks away again.

“Cody, look at me.”

Nothing. He rests one hand on his hip, the other hand digging into his hair. Frustration oozes from his rigid stance.

I start toward him, not about to back down. “What’s wrong?”

At last he turns. “
You
,” he says, his voice reverberating through the empty hall, bringing me to a stop.

“You and me; this is all wrong. It always has been.”

The words cut deep. Sting. “You don’t mean that,” I say, the hitch in my voice betraying me.

“You’re right,” he says. “What I’m trying to say is I love you.”

His words hit me, melting every last barrier around my heart. He loves me. Three momentous words out in the open.

He runs his fingers through his hair again, messing it up. Suddenly, he looks more rugged than put together. Seductive. It reminds me of when he first came to school, a total mess sitting in that wheelchair. I loved that boy, too. As senseless as it is, I’ve always loved him.

“L-Lucas and I,” I stammer, terrified of admitting my feelings for Cody in return. “It’s over. We’re just friends.”

Cody shifts his weight from one leg to the other and gives me a look. “What do you want, Jules?”

Somehow I know this question is monumental, my answer pivotal.

I stare at him and falter. No one has asked me this in weeks, months. I think about all the things I’ve had my heart set on, worked to keep together, strived to accomplish. But looking at Cody now, it’s hard to think of anything else.

What do I want? How do you place your heart out in the open like this? How do you tell someone they consume your thoughts, your dreams?

The words tangle up, wedged like a knot in the back of my throat.

Cody brushes a curly lock of hair away from my face, his gaze following the motion. “’Cause all I want right now is to kiss you, and I’m sick of trying to think up more reasons why I shouldn’t.”

My breath catches in the back of my throat, my heart hammering with the need to reach out and give him what he wants—what
I
want.

Cody draws back, his hand falling to his side. Like he’s about to walk away again.

“Then stop trying,” I say.

His gaze collides with mine. My heart skitters in the heady silence. A muscle tightens in his jaw, like he’s deciding the barrier between us was made to be broken. There it is; every carefully penned-up emotion breaking loose with an open invitation, leaving me exposed in front of the last boy I should have fallen for.

My pulse flickers as he moves toward me. He slides a hand around the back of my neck, his fingers gliding through my hair. His lips hover over mine, and a sigh unravels within me.

His lips brush mine, soft and slow, his eyes opening briefly—searching, asking. Giving me a chance to back out. I step into his embrace.

And then we mesh into one, all restraint gone—his lips moving over mine, his perfect mouth hungry for more, opening up something inside me I didn’t know existed. Warmth spreads through me, setting my veins on fire. His chest rises and falls as he presses me against the wall, as though he, too, has taken leave of his senses. And I know in that instant that I’ve never been kissed like this before.

“Jewel.” Vic’s voice echoes down the hallway and I jerk away.

Cody steps back, his reaction delayed. Like he’s just now realizing what we’ve done.

Homecoming. Holly.
Lucas.

I cover my mouth with my hand.

“Jewel?” Vic calls again, followed by a squeal of giggles from Heidi as Vic says something to her with muffled laughter.

My heart swells as though it could burst and I ache to be alone with Cody, to explore his lips and this connection we’ve denied for too long. Yet somehow I manage to turn and leave.