Collateral Damage (18 page)

Just the two of us.

"What do you have in mind?"

"A late-night cruise."

"On your bike?" she asks.

"Yeah, that's kind of the idea."

"But it's freezing!"

Good. Another reason for her to say no. Because I'm not going on like this a second longer. I'm not waiting until it's warmer. She can ride tonight or not at all. She can say no right now, and we can both move on with our lives. "Could be colder. Besides, cold is good. It reminds you you're alive."

She shakes her head, uncertain. "On your bike? With you?" she repeats.

Not just me—with a guy, for all she knows, is exactly like her brother. "Yeah." I unzip my backpack and remove Callie's helmet.

The fact that I am offering my fiancée
's
helmet to my half-attractive English partner so we can go for a midnight ride speaks volumes—and not very highly of me as a person. Or a boyfriend. I suck. On multiple levels—I suck. But then I remember there's no way in hell Jaden is going to say yes, so there's really nothing to worry about.

Say no, Jaden. Go ahead and prove you're the second girl unwilling to climb on the back of a motorcycle with me.

Her eyes narrow to slits. "You planned this," she accuses, arms crossing.

I'm not giving her any reason to say no other than she doesn't want to. That's the only way this will work. "You're not
scared,
are you?" I tease.

"I'm not scared," she mutters.

Liar. The girl is terrified.

Like I'd actually let something happen to her. I'm the safest possible person she could ever be with. The first person people call when they need help.

"A quick ride." She eyes the helmet, curious, but doesn't move to take it. "Don't worry. I can't be seen with you any more than you can be seen with me. It's late. It's dark. The helmets will hide us. It doesn't get much safer than this."

She bites into her lower lip, eyebrows pulling together, frowning. And I know she doesn't intend it this way, but it's one of the sexiest things I've ever seen her do. And I know it shouldn't, but it tempts me even more. And I know that I should stop here, that I should take the no she's offering, but I don't. "Ah. I see."

"What?"

"I just remembered who I'm talking to, is all. You know, the Jaden McEntyre everyone knows. Safe, boring, not stepping out of her comfort zone...."

Her jaw tightens. "I'm
not
in a comfort zone."

A low wind sweeps through, two little words carried with it: "Prove it."

She turns on her heel, opens her car door, and shuts off the engine. She spins back around, eyes on fire, and rips the helmet from my hands.

And it dawns on me, as she lowers it over her head, as she adjusts the straps, that she's really going to do this. I know I should tell her to stop. I know I should tell her the whole damn thing is a joke—that I didn't really think she would say yes, but the words—I can't find them. They don't exist. They don't want to be spoken.

I turn the engine, revving it as she climbs onto the back of the bike. She eases her body forward, pressing it against mine, every part of her connecting to every part of me, fusing like we belong together—like this is how we were meant to be from the moment we first laid eyes on each other.

My heart crashes in my chest, bouncing with the hum of the motor as she wraps her arms around me, each beat confirming what, deep down, I knew all along:

I didn't want this girl to say no.

C
HAPTER
E
IGHTEEN

"Oh my God. I can't believe we just did that."

Holy shit. I can't believe we just did that.

Jaden unstraps the helmet and lifts it off. The evidence from our midnight ride is everywhere—in her flushed cheeks, bright eyes. She runs fingers through her hair, catching tangles, shallow breaths smoking in the cold.

In my head I rush over to her, wrap my arms around her and pull her into a kiss—the longest and deepest kiss ever shared by two people. The kind of kiss that would rock her world, because God knows she just rocked mine.

In reality I remain still, shivering at the fantasy. Against the cold.

This girl is
nothing
like I thought.

She is...freaking
amazing.

She smiles at me, as if reading the hunger in my eyes, knowing my thoughts—like she knows exactly what I'm thinking.

I hope to God she doesn't know what I'm thinking.

"Come on. I'll let you borrow my heater," she says.

 
We move to her car. Jaden turns the key, adjusts the vents. "I can't believe I actually rode a motorcycle," she mutters, sobering.

"Was it everything you imagined?" I ask.

"Imagined? I
never
imagined that. Ever."

"So you're saying it was one of the most awesome things you've ever experienced."

Her eyebrows furrow. "I'm saying that I can never, ever do something that insane again."

I laugh. Now she feels guilty?
 
"Come on, Jade. You loved every second of it," I tell her, matter of fact.

She shakes her head, insistent. "No."

I nudge her with my elbow, desperate to feel her, to touch her one more time. My body craving hers. The softness. The curves. "Admit it. You had a great time."

"Whatever."

I ease closer, teasing. "You know, for someone who supposedly has all her morals in check, you cave awfully fast to peer pressure."

"Shut up."

"Say it. You had a great time."

"No."

I reach across the console and pinch her side, tickling her. "Say it!"
 
I demand.

She laughs, squirming away from me, grabbing my fingers and holding them tightly. "No!"

Her hand feels...unbelievable. Smaller than mine, but not too small. Her fingers are long. Slender. And she's so warm and perfect. I don't want to let her go. I want to hold on, to steal the heat from her body.

She pulls away from me, and, even in the dark, I know she's blushing.

I like this Jaden—this brilliant girl with the infectious laugh who climbs onto the back of motorcycles without hesitating.

"You should get out more often," I tell her, easing away. "You need to live a little. You're too safe."

"What's so bad about being safe?" she asks.

"Nothing, but you're missing out on a lot don't you think?"

She sighs, defeated. "My family thinks I'm a control freak."

I move my hands to the vents, warming them in a more appropriate way. "Why?"

"I'm just, kind of obsessive, I guess."

"About what?"

"Harvard, my schoolwork, my causes." She turns the heater down a notch. "I mean, you saw it. I went ballistic because I forgot one meeting."

"That was you going ballistic?" She tosses me a dirty look. "There are worse things to obsess about," I point out.

"Yeah, but you're so right, you know? I'm boring...and predictable. And yes, I'm safe. Everyone and everything around me is safe. My decisions are completely calculated."

I'm sorry for ever uttering those words—for being so wrong about...everything. "That's not entirely true. Because tonight—that was pretty unpredictable. I didn't think you'd go for it. Peer pressure and all."

"Yeah, well, I shouldn't have," she admits. "If my parents find out I rode around town on the back of a motorcycle with you they'll freak out. I'll be grounded forever."

I think of her family. Her brother. His history. They have to know who I am—who I'm pretending to be, anyway. They can't be okay with Jaden spending time with someone like me. "What are they more concerned about? Me or the motorcycle?"

Our eyes connect. "Honestly?" she asks.

"Honestly."

"You." The confirmation hurts more than I anticipated. "But that's because I don't think they know you ride a motorcycle," she clarifies. "And because they don't know you, obviously."

Obviously.

"You know, people say an awful lot about you behind your back. I wish you'd at least come out and clear up some of the rumors. They're annoying."

The rumors

My spine stiffens. She has no idea. No clue that I'm
nothing
like those rumors.

Well, not anymore. Because even as I sit here, pretending to be someone I'm not, I remember that I'm not as far removed from those rumors as I'd like to be. "People believe what they want to believe. That's not something you can change, whether you want to or not."

"Yeah, well, you thought you knew me, and you didn't."

"I do know you. You're safe and boring."

"Tonight I was unpredictable."

"We all have our moments."

She laughs. But it dies. And I know she's thinking about.... Shit. I have no clue what she's thinking. And suddenly she's turning toward me, tucking her hair behind her ears, facing me, eyes searching mine. "Come on, Parker, Who
are
you?"

The blood in my veins turns to ice. I may as well be back outside, standing in the winter dark.
This.
This is
exactly
why you don't get close to people when you're undercover. It's bad enough to lie to an entire school. An entire town.

Don't make me lie to her, too.

"What do you mean?" I mutter.

Her shoulders lift in a gentle shrug, voice softening. "I just wanna know who you are."

"Why?"

Why? Why does it even matter? I can't be real with you.

"Because I feel so transparent around you," she confesses. "I feel like you have me all figured out. Like you know everything about me and it drives me insane. And forgive me, but the only thing I know about you I had to sneak around to find out. Just give me something to go on. Anything."

"Like what?"

"Like...what's your favorite color?"

I laugh. That's it? That's what she wants to know about me? "That is so elementary. I have to be defined by a color?"

"Yes."

A color. Wow.

I exhale a shallow breath and adjust the sleeve of my jacket. At least I can be straight about this one. "Black."

She nods. "I could've guessed that."