Off the Record (14 page)

Read Off the Record Online

Authors: Sawyer Bennett

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Young Adult, #new adult, #erotic, #hockey

BOOK: Off the Record
11.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“That’s ridiculous, Ever. You’re gorgeous and smart. Any guy would swallow their tongues to get a taste of you.”

I smile at her. “That’s sweet of you to say, but I’m not feeling it. I mean, what would you do if Nix pushed you away.”

Emily is the one that smiles at me now, and her look is positively devious. “Oh, you poor girl. You shouldn’t have asked me that. Nix did exactly the same thing to me. He was trying to be altruistic or some shit like that.”

Really? That’s interesting. “What did you do?”

“I came on to him hard. He didn’t stand a chance.”

“Are you suggesting I do the same thing?”

“Absolutely. If you want him, why not go for him.”

I’m silent. There’s no reason why I can’t. I’m young and single. Marc was my first, and Linc probably won’t be my last. But there is something that is holding me back.

“Here’s the thing, Emily. I don’t want a relationship. I’m done getting my heart trampled on. I think if I did anything with Linc, it would just be sex. Is that wrong of me?”

“Hell no. That’s how it started with me and Nix. But you need to be careful. I know you think you both know what you want and what you don’t want, but things tend to shift once you make it to the bedroom together.”

“Well, that is if we make it to the bedroom together. I just don’t think I can take the lead in this. I was too embarrassed when he pushed me away the last time.”

“How about you just play it by ear and see how things unfold. But, Ever...please don’t hurt him again. He doesn’t deserve it.”

I swallow hard, because I know that I do have the power to hurt Linc. I’ve already done it to some extent, just by the mere fact he didn’t trust me enough to tell me he was going to hang out with a sick little boy.

The more I think about that kiss...that freakingly extraordinary kiss...I can only conclude that I have not given Linc any real reason to trust me.  If anything, he has all the reason in the world to distrust my every action.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ever and I are driving through what is left of the town of Smithfield, Oklahoma. Ten days ago—and ironically on the day I met Ever at my party—an EF-5 tornado tore through and pretty much obliterated everything in its path.

“I can’t believe we’re here. This is just terrible.” Her voice is delicate and awe struck.

The tornado had been a major news story because of its size and I knew that I would participate in the recovery at some point. I had been waiting until AmeriCorps started posting about volunteer opportunities, checking their website every day. Yesterday morning, they finally had a schedule of clean up recovery and were asking for people to sign up.

I didn’t wake Ever up to run. Instead, I got on the phone and made plane and hotel reservations. I called two of my teammates, and asked if they wanted to go.  They were up for the adventure and I gave them the hotel information. They said they would meet us there.

When Ever came out of her bedroom at about 8:00 a.m., she was rubbing her eyes and yawning. “How come you didn’t wake me up to go running?”

“Because I didn’t go run today. I decided to let you sleep in a bit.”

“Oh...thanks.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I’m getting ready to put you to work. Go get packed. We’re heading to Oklahoma in three hours.”

“Excuse me?”

“We’re going to go spend a few days helping to clean up from that tornado.”

“Really?”  Her voice is excited.

I smile at her. “Really. Now go pack. Make sure you take some long sleeve t-shirts and some jeans or other sturdy pants. Hiking boots if you have them. We’ll get some safety goggles and gloves when we get there.”

She scurried off to pack and I handled some last minute arrangements. As promised, within three hours we were airborne and headed to Oklahoma. We flew into Tulsa which is where we will be staying. Smithfield is about fifty miles away and we couldn’t get a hotel anywhere nearer to the devastation. Most of the hotels were booked with other volunteers or recovery workers.

I can’t get over the extreme damage that has occurred. Most buildings are nothing but a pile of matchsticks. Yet, in the middle of the destruction, you’ll see a building that amazingly was left untouched. The selective power of a tornado is frightening.

“Have you done this sort of thing before?” Ever asks.

“This is my first tornado. But this will be the third time I’ve helped clean up after a disaster. I helped after those two hurricanes hit Florida back to back two years ago. But the destruction was nothing like this.”

“How is this all being coordinated? I mean, how did you even know that volunteers were needed?”

“There’s a government agency called AmeriCorps. They coordinate and lead volunteer efforts.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine what it’s going to take to clean this up and rebuild.”

I couldn’t imagine it either. The tornado ended up killing seventy-two people and left thousands of others injured or homeless. Our job while here was to help clean and stack debris for refuse trucks to haul away. There’s no way that individual homeowners have the ability or manpower to clean the rubble up from their properties so they can rebuild.

We pull into the parking lot of a high school football stadium. I see my teammates, Darius and Tyler are here already. They both went with me to help clean up after the hurricanes and were always up for a volunteer opportunity. They were good guys that way.

There’s a large military tent set up and several school buses. We head into the tent where we fill out some forms and sign waivers. Then we are loaded on a bus and driven into a neighborhood that was flattened by the hurricane. I make introductions between Ever and the guys, but we don’t talk much on the way there. We are just too stunned by all of the carnage we see.

I look at Ever, who is sitting next to me, and her eyes are wide with horror. I reach down and pick up her hand. She doesn’t take her eyes off the window, almost so entranced she can’t turn away. But she squeezes my hand and holds it all the way until the bus stops.

 

 

After a viciously hot and back breaking day, Darius, Tyler and I swing by Ever’s room to pick her up. We had agreed to get cleaned up and head out to a nice dinner before we hit the sack. We are all exhausted beyond measure.

I knock on Ever’s door and after a few minutes it opens. Ever is still in her work clothes, dirt smudged all over her face and she looks like she’s been run over by a freight train. The main thing I notice is that her eyes have lost their sparkle.

“I’m not going, guys. I’m just too exhausted and sore to even walk down to the car.”

I feel terrible. The work today was brutal. We had to haul lumber, bricks, cinder blocks and tree branches. We had to separate out electronics and metals from the rubble and place those in a separate pile. We had to gather papers and personal documents that were spread everywhere. What we couldn’t gather in our hands, we were given rakes to make piles. The temperature had skyrocketed which was made worse by the fact we were all wearing long sleeve shirts and jeans for protection. On top of that, the masks that we wore over our faces did nothing to stop the smell of rotting food and animal carcasses, which had you threatening to throw up constantly. This work was not for the weak of back or fair of stomach.

Several times I had to make Ever put on sunscreen, as I was afraid her fair skin would blister under the hot, Oklahoma sun. She was working so hard, she would forget to take breaks and drink water to stay hydrated. I feel like half the time I was running after her to shove a water bottle in her hand.

And now she stands before me and she looks like a feather would knock her over. We had been working for almost nine hours straight minus a short break for lunch.

I look over at Darius and Tyler. “You guys go ahead. I might catch up with you later.”

They nod and leave.

I walk into Ever’s room and shut the door. She just stares at me, practically swaying on her feet.

“Did you drink that last Gatorade I got you on the way back to the hotel?”

“No,” she whispers and sits on the edge of her bed. She’s covered in dirt and grime, and she smells like she had just completed her assignment of living homeless on the streets, yet she still looks remarkably beautiful to me. She was such a trooper today.

“Drink your Gatorade,” I order her and head into the bathroom.  I run her a bath and make it as hot as I think her delicate skin can handle.

When I return to the bedroom, she’s still sitting in the same spot, just staring at the floor. “Ever...drink your Gatorade.”

“I’m too tired to move,” she groans but I notice a small smile on her face. “Can’t I just go to bed?”

I walk over to her and pull her from the bed by her hands. “Now...you’re going to drink your Gatorade and take two ibuprofen, then you’re going to get your ass in the tub while I get us some dinner from room service. And if you don’t do it, I’ll pour the damn Gatorade down your throat and strip you myself to put you in the tub.”

“If I wasn’t so sore,” she mumbles, “I’d take you up on the offer to strip me.”

A pleasurable thrill runs up my spine at those words. It’s the first candid moment we’ve had about this underlying attraction we have for each other since that kiss.

That amazingly perfect kiss.

The thought of stripping Ever down is way too tempting but I chase it from my head. I push her gently into the bathroom and close the door behind me.

 

 

By the time Ever emerges from the bathroom trussed up in a fluffy white, hotel robe, I have room service laid out. I got us soup and sandwiches, which Ever attacked the minute she sat down. I also got us a bottle of wine. It will help her sleep tonight.

“Today was surreal,” she says. “I don’t know that I’ll ever see anything as horrifying again.”

“It’s pretty bad. We won’t even make a dent while we’re here.”

“I guess every little bit helps. I assume they’ll be cleaning up for months and months.”

We’re silent for a while as we continue to eat and I pour her a second glass of wine after she finishes the first. I break the silence with something that has been on my mind. “You told Kyle your mom was sick. Was it cancer?”

Other books

The Lorimer Line by Anne Melville
One of Ours by Willa Cather
Illuminated by Erica Orloff
Granite by Ronin Winters
The Story of the Blue Planet by Andri Snaer Magnason
Death in Kenya by M. M. Kaye