Dodging Trains (8 page)

PAISLEE

T
his is ridiculous.
I don’t understand what’s going on right now. The town is in upheaval because Keyon Arias, the fighter, the mayor’s son, hooked up with a girl a few nights ago and he’s turning the place upside down to find her.

Why?

I left our twosome early, which would have given him time to sample more of Rigita’s offerings, but by the description, the girl in question is me. Female Robin Hoods with painted-on masks weren’t in ready supply at his father’s party, I believe.

I couldn’t sleep with the aftershocks of heat and fear rolling through me, so he put me in his lap by the fireplace and fed me warm whiskey with milk and honey. Said it’d calm my nerves and make it easier to sleep, and he was right. The gesture was too considerate for me to dwell on. I can’t keep a film clip of it.

In the morning, my mom would be there to help clean up after the party, and I wasn’t planning on running into her hardworking morning face while I looked like a just-screwed hangover.

Keyon’s thigh
weighs me down. It’s hard and thick over my leg, partly covering my hip. His arm, warm against my nose, makes me think of safety nets and of being smothered.

He’s snoring. It’s a deeply relaxed sound, and when I turn a little within his embrace, he’s so close I can hardly distinguish his features. Black hair drapes half of his cheek in a peaceful mess. With his mouth rounded, he blows out air in small puffs. There’s whiskey on his breath, of the pleasant, fresh kind, because it’s not that long since we drank it.

Oh my God. I’m in bed with Keyon Arias. All these years and here we are. He’s completely unaware too, of who I am. If
he
tricked
me
like this, I’d have been furious. Ah this is so not good.

Although men don’t hold on to memories the way we do. I might never cross Keyon’s mind with his great, new life anyway. Maybe he doesn’t even remember me? Oh right. He talked to Mom.

I can’t stay here any longer. I’d like to head out without him noticing, but I’m always up front with the men I sleep with. I’m bold, barefaced, and honest, they say. I tell them I’m leaving, that I’ve got stuff to do, and tonight will be no different. I owe that much to the only crush I’ve ever had.

“Keyon. Hey…” I’m whispering, because I’m not a hundred percent sure of my approach. He pulls in a long breath, the sound calm and soft and nothing like the frenzy he swirled me into during sex. The man I’m staring at doesn’t look like someone who’d shove and trap and hold a girl captive until she obeys and comes on demand.

“What?” he sighs out. My heart lurches at how intimate he sounds. I wish I had the right to hear a loved one whisper to me.

He rolls to his side so he can face me. Gets up on an elbow and strokes my face with a giant hand. Somehow that makes my chin tremble.

“I have to go. Got work in the morning,” I lie, “but it’s been fun. Thanks for letting me crash here.”

He exhales heavily. Keyon scared me last night, but now I am wistful. For a second, I dream of him telling me not to leave.

“Sunday work, huh? Sucks.” His mouth crooks in a sluggish smile. “Eh I won’t be lazing around either. Eight-hour plus workout. What time is it?”

I find my bra in the dark. I’m thankful he brought my clothing to the bedroom.

“It’s five.” I lean over the edge of the bed to grab my ruffled Rubina Hood shirt.

I feel him behind me even before he touches me. A big hand comes around and cups my breast while his lips latch around my jugular. Goose bumps rise on my skin at the air coasting from his nose and down my throat.

“You sure you want to leave?” he asks quietly. Warm hands clutch my midsection and dig in around my belly button. My body’s response is quick. Apparently, Keyon’s touch can build bonfires in girl stomachs.

“I have to.”

“I’ll follow you downstairs then. No wait, you need a ride of course.”

“No, my car’s around the corner,” I lie again. “Go back to sleep. I’m good.”

He sighs again, and the sound is so sweet it makes me remember him as a teenager. How long were we best friends back then? A year and a half? Two? It felt like so much longer. Then there was the kiss. Then he changed. Then… then... they moved.

With Keyon in my life, I had someone to let in on my crazy, someone who understood. I didn’t know what was missing until he appeared, and when he left I became lonelier than ever.

Once I’m dressed, I look at him, sleepy, beautiful, a big bundle of relaxed on the sheets. For a moment, I forget that he doesn’t know me. I’m ready to leave, but I cave in to the need to feel his skin beneath my fingers another time.

I start below his ear. Stroke slowly over the corded tendons of his neck and watch him close his eyes at my touch. I reach his collarbone, travel over a pectoral and a small, dark nipple before I move downward to his waist.

There’s a sting in my abdomen that I rarely feel with men. A good sting. A scorching sting. My body remembers how he treated me just hours ago. His approach to sex was violent, but—

Fairy tales
, I digress in my own thoughts. I was a bit like Cinderella when I came here disguised last night. A lot like Robin Hood in my costume choice. But now, I feel like Sleeping Beauty, with my body woken up from slumber by this strange man that used to be my friend.

He sighs again when I caress his happy trail. I’m so close to jumping back into bed at that sigh, but if I stayed, our morning would go awry. He’d probably want a shower with me. The wig I’ve all but cemented to my head might last, but my mask would disintegrate under the spray.

“Rubina,” he says as I straighten.

“Hmm?”

“Leave me your number, okay? Let’s get together again.”

My heart does a bounce in my chest. I nod, watching his eyes gleam in the semi-dark. “Okay.”

“Rubina?”

I swing toward him again from the doorway. “Yeah?”

“C’mere.”

Hesitant, I tiptoe back over to the bed. Two long arms reach me, envelop me, and drag me down to him. I thump awkwardly to the bed. Find his mouth awake, warm, wet, invasive, his tongue conquering me with a last breathtaking kiss.

When he lets go, he murmurs, “Thanks again. Call you tomorrow.”

“Mañana,”
I whisper back. And in the greying morning light, his eyes are wider than before as I leave.

“Rumor has it
you made an impact.” Mack chews his way through a roasted chicken for lunch. The visit to the Coral Mansion has him inspired. He’s started going to the gym, and he’s put himself on a protein diet to get rid of some flab. Good for him. “The gang at Yellow Pub says Keyon’s been there asking for you. Not that I blame him—you
are
a good lay.”

“Shhh, lower your voice, will you?” I glare at him and jerk my head toward the main room where Old-Man is emptying the water bins, getting them ready for the afternoon shift. “What, is he talking about sleeping with me?”

“No, but he described his mystery girl and how she’d promised to leave her number and then she didn’t. Why didn’t you? Wasn’t he as spectacular as he looked? If not, don’t worry,
Rubina
, I’ve got you covered.”

He puckers a kiss over the chicken, lips greasy. I snort and cross my arms. Why would Keyon be looking for me? I’m probably the pansiest one-night stand he has ever had.

“You know you dig sleeping with me. Or are you over me now?” Mack is playful, but there’s insecurity lingering below the surface. As always, he disguises it with jokes. “Goodness, I think Paislee’s gone did herself a monk.”

I laugh out loud. “A
nun
, dork.”

“Really? You’re going to not sleep with people anymore?”

“Shut up.” We have an understanding. Why the hell is he talking so loudly?

“Old-Man’s rinsing bins,” Mack reminds me. “No way to hear anything over the water and you know it. Come here.”

Mack is being annoying. Actually, he’s been annoying for days, ever since he came by Sunday afternoon to “check on me.” He wanted a quickie, but I honestly couldn’t. Days later, I still feel where Keyon was. Too much friction—I’ve had enough men down there for a while.

I decide to walk over to Mom’s for lunch. “Tell Old-Man I’ll be back. I need fresh air,” I say. “You’ve stunk up the entire break room with your stupid chicken.”

“Pfff, it’s not that bad,” he begins, but I stomp past him and stride out the door.

I walk to Ivy’s Café.
I like to do that when I can. It’s close, I’m bundled up against the cold, and the tip of my nose feels alive with the frost. I drag in a long breath and pull my hat down over my ears. Funny how the cold set in over the last days. We’d been on a mild streak for weeks. Seems the mayor’s ball was what the cold season waited for.

My thoughts return to Keyon, to the sudden change in him years ago. Ever since he started at our school, people picked on him for being small, pretty, gay, whatever else they could conjure up. Once someone even claimed he had an ear that was bigger than the other. That one didn’t stick.

“Check out
the
fag hag!
” Aaron yells. “She’s looking for her
fag.
Anyone seen her
fag?
We gotta help her.”