Shattered: An Extreme Risk Novel (11 page)

Except … she doesn’t. She just stands there, watching me with those wide, innocent eyes of hers, until I feel even skeevier. Even grosser.

Awesome. Nice to know just how far I’ve fallen. My parents would be so proud.

“You want me to—” Her voice breaks.

Great. She can’t even say the words. I’m about to speak up, to tell her to forget the whole thing, when Tansy whispers, “Okay.”

Now it’s my jaw that hits the floor. “Okay?” I demand. “What does that mean?”

She shrugs, and the innocent girl is gone again. In her place is the badass rocker chick. The one who doesn’t take any shit from me. I swear, I can’t keep up. Her split personalities are giving me whiplash. “It means okay. Let’s do it.”

There’s a ringing in my ears and for a second I think my head might actually have exploded. But nope, it’s still there. I reach a hand up, run it over the back of my hair, just to be sure. Yep, everything is still in place. Which means I’m not having a stroke. And probably not having aural hallucinations, either. Which means … “You’re saying … yes?” I ask, my voice sounding strangled to my own ears.

“Sure.” She shrugs like it’s no big deal. Like she didn’t stand against me in that storage room and tremble from just my lips brushing over her skin. “But I didn’t bring condoms, so I hope you have some. I figure you must, right? Considering your extracurricular activities in the storage room. But where do you want to do it? I mean, Logan’s right down the hall and I don’t want him to hear us. So, maybe after he goes to bed? How do you usually—”

She steps forward and I take a step back. A few steps back, if I’m honest. But holy shit. I just levered the most insulting thing I could think of at her and she just said … yes? I can’t wrap my brain around it. Too bad my dick isn’t having the same problem. It’s more than ready to take her answer and run with it.

But my cock doesn’t make my decisions for me. Or at least that’s what I tell myself as I struggle with what I’m supposed to do now. Of all the scenarios I’d envisioned—Tansy slapping me, Tansy screaming at me, Tansy running away—it never once occurred to me that she’d say
yes
.

“What’s wrong?” she breaks off, looking confused. I guess my shock is finally translating.

“I just, didn’t think you’d be so …”

“So what?”

So not angry at me. But I can’t actually say that. Right? Because that would be weird. Not like this whole thing isn’t weird, because it is. But that would be really weird. I cast around for something to say, settle finally on, “So helpful about the whole thing?”

“Why wouldn’t I be helpful? This way, we both get what we want, right? And it’s an equal exchange of services.”

Equal exchange of—Jesus Christ, who is this girl? Ten minutes ago she could barely say
the word fuck and now she’s talking about prostituting herself to help some kid she barely knows get his Make-A-Wish. My mind is boggling. Actually boggling. I don’t even know if that’s a verb, but I swear that’s what’s happening to me right now.

And that’s before she starts talking again.

“Now that I think about it, I get that you might not want to do it here, because of your brother. But I’m not really up for the storage closet, so is there another choice? I still live at home, so my place is out. But maybe, we could get a hotel room or something? Just for a couple hours? I mean, maybe it won’t take that long, but still. I kind of prefer a bed. I’m free tomorrow, but what does your schedule look like? Because I can be—”

I lift up a hand, afraid my ears might actually start bleeding from the sheer number of words tumbling out of her mouth at a truly alarming rate. “Stop!” It comes out sounding harsher than I planned, but then, what about this whole fucking night has gone according to plan?

The harshness works, at least for a couple of seconds. She stands there, gaping at me, while I try to get my jaw up off the floor
and
blank out the images of her and me rolling around, naked, on some anonymous hotel bed. It’s a lot harder than it should be.

“Stop what?” she finally asks.

“Stop talking. Stop thinking. Just … stop.”

Just stop
.

The words echo in the room around us and they shut me up, exactly as I think Ash intended. Part of me wants to ask what specifically he wants me to stop. Talking? Planning? Breathing? From the look on his face, I’m afraid it’s all of the above.

But that doesn’t make sense, right? I mean, I’ve agreed with everything he’s wanted. Everything he’s asked. Yeah, I put my foot down about the storage closet, but surely that’s negotiable.

I mean, how many girls actually
want
to lose their virginity in a storage closet?

It’s never been a dream of mine, but then, up until recently, I never let myself dream about anything. It was too painful to think about a future I’d never get the chance to live.

But Ash is looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. And maybe I have. That was a lot of talking I just did. But I couldn’t help it. Once I started, my nerves took over and I couldn’t stop. The words literally fell out of my mouth without any conscious effort on my part whatsoever.

Now that I’ve finally shut up—thanks to Ash—I can’t help wondering if it was crazy of me to agree to his demands so easily. Yes, I’ve been thinking about those moments at the resort, and what could have happened if I’d let it, from pretty much the second I walked away from him the other day. Thinking about the way his mouth felt on my skin, his breath hot against my neck. And while I know most people would think it was demeaning of me to take his deal—to exchange sex for a snowboarding trip, even one this important—the truth is I don’t feel like that at all.

I mean, when else am I going to have the chance to sleep with a guy—any guy, let alone one as hot and drop-dead gorgeous as Ash? I’m nineteen years old and I’m not just a virgin, but a complete novice when it comes to guys. I have no idea how to flirt or how to attract their attention. To be honest, I barely know how to hold a casual conversation with someone I’m not related to.

Not to mention the fact that I’m not exactly what I think anyone would call sexy. I have an okay face, I guess, but that hasn’t gotten me very far. Especially considering that years of cancer treatments have left me short, close to bald and
way
too skinny. There’s a part of me that
figures this second offer from Ash will probably be the only one I get for a while and I’m not ready to let it slip past.

Except, he’s looking a little green and nowhere near as enthusiastic about my acceptance as I thought he’d be.
Hoped
he’d be. God, have I screwed this up before we even got started? I seriously can’t believe how hard it is for a girl to lose her virginity in this city.

Eventually, I get tired of waiting for Ash to speak—and tired of him staring at me like I’m an alien from another planet. “What’s wrong? You look like I just kicked your dog.”

He narrows his eyes at me. “
What’s wrong?
You just agreed to
fuck
me so that I’d go on a trip with you.”

“But I thought that was what you wanted!” Now I’m really confused. “You said—”

“What I wanted was for you to get pissed off. I thought you’d slap me and storm out. It never occurred to me that you’d actually take me up on it.”

The truth of what’s going on here finally registers and my stomach hits my brand-new, high-heeled boots with a powerful thud. Oh, God. Ohgodohgodohgod!

He doesn’t want
me
. At all.
At all
. I mean, it’s not like I thought he really wanted
me
, me, but I thought he at least found me attractive enough to sleep with. He did come on to me the other day, after all. But he doesn’t. Not even for a one-night thing. Not even for a one-hour thing. He was just trying to get rid of me. Trying to make me go away.

Oh my God. Oh my God. What have I done?

Humiliation sweeps through me and I can feel tears blooming, hot and wet, in the corners of my eyes. Considering I gave up crying a long time ago, it’s doubly humiliating.

I turn away before he can see them, blink fast and furiously in an effort to get rid of the evidence. I’m not going to cry about this and I’m sure as hell not going to cry about it here, in front of him.

“Tansy?” Ash sounds as confused as I feel. “Are you okay?”

Am I
okay
? I want to ask incredulously. He just stomped all over the one, tiny little piece of self-confidence I’ve actually managed to hold on to and he wants to know if I’m
okay
? Is he serious? What am I even supposed to say to that?

I take a second, try to even out my ragged breathing so I don’t look and sound as deranged—as pathetic—as I obviously am. Letting Ash see how much he’s shaken me is
so
not going to happen. I mean, my self-esteem might be shot to hell but I still have my pride.

“I’m good,” I tell him with a little laugh and a totally unnecessary flip of my too-short hair, even as I pray for the ground to open up and swallow me whole.

“A little embarrassed that I didn’t realize just how desperate you were to get out of this trip. But good.” I still can’t look at him.

“Tansy, I’m sorry,” he says to my back. “That was a jerk move for me to pull—”

“No problem,” I answer in the most carefree voice I can manage, even as I glance frantically around for my purse. “Misunderstandings happen all the time.”

“That wasn’t a misunderstanding,” he tells me. “That was me being an ass.”

I can’t disagree with that, so I just keep my mouth shut. My purse. My purse. Where is my stupid—I spy it lying on the floor near the door and all but lunge for it. “I’ve got to go. It’s getting late and I have a …”

I try frantically to come up with an excuse, any excuse, but my mind is completely blank. Well, except for the humiliation of being told that I’m so unattractive, so … so
unfuckable
, that he couldn’t believe I’d take him seriously. For some reason, I can remember that all too well.

“Tansy.” He catches my arm, spins me around like I weigh nothing. “Please. Look at me.”

I don’t want to. I really don’t want to. But we’re facing each other now and it would be weird if I didn’t look at him. So I reach for the hard-rock persona I put on this morning one more time, and try to pretend the last ten minutes never happened.

Thank God for the blue hair and bitch boots.

“I’m looking at you,” I tell him with another careless toss of my head. “Now what?”

He shakes his head. “Now I apologize for being a total tool. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You already apologized.” I force a laugh and though it’s a little hard, at least it sounds genuine. I think. And if it doesn’t, I don’t want to know about it. “Besides, you didn’t hurt me. I just didn’t realize you were going to go all
sensitive
on me.”

“Sensitive?” He spits the word out like it’s a curse. Actually, from what I know about him, he’s infinitely more comfortable with curse words than he is with the one I just threw at him. Good. Why should I be the only one out of her comfort zone?

“Yeah, you know. All squeamish about a simple biological function.”

“Biological
function
?”

“Dude, you’re beginning to sound like a parrot.” I tap his mouth, which is still hanging open just a little bit. “It’s not the best look for you.”

“Not the best—” He breaks off, pressing his lips together so hard that they turn white.

“I need to get going,” I tell him, slinging my purse strap onto my shoulder. “I’ve got to go break a little kid’s heart before my date tonight.”

He lets go of me so fast I nearly stumble. I hadn’t realized how hard I’d been straining in the opposite direction until he’d actually let go of me.

“That’s a shitty thing to say, Tansy.”

“Maybe. But it’s even shittier to cancel on him now that he’s all excited about the trip.”

“I’m sorry about that.” He rubs the back of his neck in a gesture I’m beginning to recognize as a tell for his frustration level. “I really am. If I’d had any idea what Logan was
planning, I never would have let it get this far.”

“But it did get this far. And ‘I’m sorry’ isn’t really going to cut it when I try to explain the situation to Timmy.”

“Jesus.” He glares at me. “You really know how to twist the knife, don’t you?”

“Hey, I’m just being honest.”

“I was honest, too, you know. From the beginning. I told you what I could and couldn’t do.”

“No. You told me what you would and wouldn’t do. It’s
not
the same thing. You
can
go to Chile. You’re just choosing not to.”

“Logan—”

“Stop using your brother as an excuse!”

“He’s not an excuse!”

“Sure he is. Maybe you don’t see it that way, but I do. And so does he, or he wouldn’t have gone behind your back the way he did.”

What little color was left in Ash’s face drains out at my words, leaving him ghost pale and just as unsteady. “You don’t understand anything.”

I should go. Enough time has passed that it wouldn’t look like I was running away, and besides, we’re not going to get anything accomplished here. Ash isn’t going to change his mind and I’m not going to change mine. It would be better for him, better for me, better for Logan, even, if I just walked out now and never came back.

As for Timmy, well Timmy already knows that life rarely works out the way it’s supposed to. He’s just going to have to learn to deal with this latest in a long line of disappointments, no matter how much I wish it was different for him.

Except, as I glance over Ash’s shoulder, a movement in the doorway catches my eye. It’s Logan, in his wheelchair. He’s sitting tall and silent and completely still, except for the frantic shaking of his head.

For a moment I have no idea what he’s trying to tell me, what he wants me to do. Except he’s silently mouthing something and as I study his mouth, I realize that the word he keeps repeating, is
Please
.

Combined with the look on his face, it breaks my resolve. Just shatters it wide open and I grit my teeth as I curse fate, the universe and my damn bleeding heart. Seriously? Can I really just not catch a break here?