Strung Out (Needles and Pins #1) (32 page)

An eager gleam lit his dark gaze as it glided hopefully over my face. “Let’s take the boat out.”

Really?

“C’mon, Scar.” He dragged my name out in that wheedling way he’d had since we were kids when he wanted to cajole me into some shenanigans. “Let’s forget the shit this morning and have some fun.”

“Forget that you kidnapped me?” is what I said, but my heart was screaming in a monstrous rage the words I wouldn’t say aloud.
Forget you’re rethinking things?

“I didn’t kidnap you.”

“Our pilot thought so.”

He scoffed with an annoying hiss of breath, ending in a contemptuous click of his vocal cords.

“He asked me in private if I was okay. And if I needed help to nod!”

“And did you nod?” When I remained quiet and folded my arms across my chest, he quirked one of those smiles he seemed to use of late, the ones that never quite manifested. “There! That’s what I thought. Not kidnapped.”

“Maybe I did. Maybe I’m out here waiting for the ‘po po’ to show.”

“Then we better get going before they show.” He seemed amused I’d lapsed into urban slang when speaking of the local law authority, but his next words were firm. “I’m not interested in being locked up before I have to be.” I felt my brows furrow at that, but he reached for my wrist and gave it a tug. “C’mon. Pleeease… I swear to you; the way you heard things is not the way I meant to say them. Can we start this day over?”

Leaning into him, I allowed myself to be pulled up. But my feet felt like sandbags as I followed him across the deck, down the steps, and into a carport.

A jeep occupied the single car space. He busied himself removing the soft top. I stood around, feeling inefficient. Stepping back when he crossed in front of me, I tried to fight the turn-on of the erotic sounds of zippers grating stridently down and the amplified pop of snaps. When he asked if I could unlatch a clip on my side of the windshield, I jumped to oblige. After he’d folded the disassembled canvas and frame back, tucking it away, he transferred a gas container from a storage closet to the back of the jeep.

If I had worried about any awkwardness in being alone with him after our argument, I needn’t have. The Jeep had a stereo system befitting a musician, and Gage cranked it up while backing out of the drive. Between the music and the wind, there was no occasion to speak during the next several minutes of curvy miles. Every once in a while, he looked over, testing my reaction to a song selection. It didn’t take me long to relax into the carefree atmosphere he’d created and feel as happy as Rascal looked in the back seat, tongue lolling out, nose up catching the wind.

By the time we had returned from the store with gas, beer, water, a bag of ice, a bottle of wine, barbecue sandwiches, a bag of dry dog food, and a sack full of snacks, our companionable repartee of the last few weeks had returned. We gorged on our sandwiches while stocking the cooler with ice and drinks. I carried the cooler and he carried the gas down the property declination to the pier. Rascal, of course, was part of the procession.

“You ever ski?” he asked when the boat was gassed up and floating in the water.

I shrugged off the shirt I was using as a swimsuit cover-up and couldn’t help but notice the flame of interest sparking in his gaze. He gave me a once over, below the neck to my toes and then back up to my face where his eyes locked and didn’t stray again.

“I’ve lived in Belize for the last five years.” Hanging the shirt on the crank he’d turned to launch the boat, I shot him a confident grin. “I can ski circles around you.”

“Oh? You think so?” One of his dark brows arched, and he finally curved a full, teeth-revealing grin.

“I know so. This lake is like glass compared to ocean waves.” I sassed right back and kicked off my flip-flops.

For a moment, my mind was catching air while skiing and riding Jet Skis with Derrick and recalling our easy relationship. Would a friends-with-benefits relationship be possible with Gage? Is that all he wanted? Because for the first time I could remember since I’d been young and naïve and in high school, I wanted more. I was
feeling
more.

We didn’t ski. The boat left churned waters in its wake as Gage steered us on a wild ride. Rascal lay low on the fiberglass belly of the craft when it was shooting across the water and popped back up to hang over the edge when it slowed. A few other boats and a sailboat dotted the lazy lake. As the afternoon grew late, we putted around the lake’s perimeter. The mix of quaint cabins and mansions fascinated me. We floated for a bit and lay back on the reclining seats, staring at the blue sky. At one point, I swore I saw an eagle glide by and interrupted Gage’s ramble to point.

“Might be,” he agreed, although by the time he saw what I was speaking of, the large bird was too far away for him to get a good look. “I’ve heard of people seeing them here.”

He flipped open the cooler and dropped his empty bottle in. I was sipping on a bottle of water. “Ready for the wine?” I shook my head, and he continued to ignore the beer and selected more water for himself and an extra bottle that he poured into a Solo cup for Rascal.

“I know he’s hot,” I mused as the dog lapped up every drop of water.

“Want to go for a swim, boy?” Gage patted the side of the boat and to my horror, half lifted, half tossed, his dog overboard. Rascal paddled around, nose and head above the surface, seemingly content. Gage dropped the anchor and from the same compartment, slid out two floats and threw them overboard. “C’mon. I know you’re hot.”

It didn’t escape my notice when he used the same phrase I’d used to reference Rascal. I wondered if I’d imagined the teasing innuendo in his tone, seeming to give it a meaning that had nothing to do with the baking sun, but he jumped overboard before I could get a read on his face.

“I could use a dip.” Instead of jumping, I swung my legs over the edge and dropped the rest of the way. The cooling shroud of the water was a welcome relief. We treaded water and engaged in a splashing war. Eventually, we shared the blue water noodle. Rascal hung over the yellow one in a similar manner. I was amazed when the canine climbed the boarding ladder with barely any help. We tossed the floats in after him and Gage and I hung, still in the water, one on either side of the ladder, discussing what we wanted for dinner. Gage sang the praises of a restaurant on the lake. My stomach growled when he began to summarize the menu, and we speculated what we would order once we’d returned to the house and cleaned up.

“You wearing sunscreen?”

“Huh?” It wasn’t the change of subject I needed to adjust to, as much as the changed intimacy in his coffee colored eyes. “Yeah. Always. Why? Am I burned?”

“A little red on your shoulders.” His forefinger made a tingling brush over the skin he spoke of.

Automatically I tipped my chin down to check. I did seem a little pinker than normal.

When I lifted my head, my mouth fell onto his. Just like that. I’d never seen him coming, but reveled in the unexpected pleasure of his lips against mine. His tongue traced my top lip and circled to my bottom, and then his lips slipped and slid with mine.

My eyelids had drifted closed, but they soon flew open when I felt the difference in this kiss from any other we’d shared. It was as tender as it was passionate, and the sentiment was mirrored in his open eyes. Instead of being clenched in the hair at the nape of my neck, his fingers forked the strands and massaged gentle circles onto my scalp.

When we parted, his hand drifted to rest on the back of my neck where his thumb continued the soothing ministration.

His words were a mere whisper of breath against my mouth. “I was scared.” His hand left my neck to swipe at his hair. “Hell, I’m still scared. I’m feeling different. Too much. It’s like I’m on overload whenever you’re around.” His eyes still hadn’t broken contact with mine, and now his lips tipped slightly. “The sex was… It was… Damn… I just… I lost my damn mind. Once I processed it and started thinking… I shouldn’t have started thinking.”

“Because you started
re
-thinking.” My reply was bitter and I hadn’t meant it to be. Because we hadn’t actually had sex. I had lapsed into voyeur mode, and I was insecure enough about this weakness to worry that was why he seemed to regret our almost-hookup.

In that way he always seemed tuned in to my thoughts and emotions, he denied that unspoken thought tangent. “No. Not rethinking what I feel. I’m worried about everything
except
what I feel.” His gaze flashed with this conviction. “Now that we’ve started this thing, I’m scared as fuck of leaving you.”

I jerked my eyes from his face. We’d barely begun, and he was thinking about the end? But he wound my hair around his wrist and brought my face back to his. Resting his forehead to mine, he gazed solemnly into my eyes.

“It’s fucking up my head to think of being away from you. And I keep thinking messed up shit. Like you can do way better than me. Like I shouldn’t even be with you—I should be wanting what’s best for you.”

My head shook, refuting his words, and I closed my fingers over his grip on the ladder. I wanted to scream because he was being so down on himself, but he kept talking without taking a breath.

“And then I think ‘your life is about to change.’ What if you’ve come to your senses and you’ve moved on when I get out? And that it’s wrong to even want you to wait around until I’m out. This morning, the whole thing just―”

“When you get out?” The sun’s rays couldn’t absorb the chill seeping through my body. “What do you mean, ‘when you get out?’”

“I’m going to do time.”

“Noo… No, you’re not. It won’t happen―”

“The odds aren’t in my favor. And I’m a loser at gambling. Always have been.”

“For fucking talking shit on stage? You’re going to jail?”

“Hopefully my lawyers can negotiate rehab. But I’m going away for up to a year.”

My eyes and throat ached and burned. Still I shook my head. “When?”
When was this happening? Please, God, don’t let it happen…

“By the fifteenth of next month.”

Before my birthday
.

The tears trapped inside their duct stung like acid but never fell. Somehow, I found myself inside the boat, and Gage was pulling up the anchor. I had no memory of climbing the ladder. When he dropped the mass of metal to its storage nook, I noticed his back was broader. He turned and his chest seemed more chiseled. He looked healthier. It had only been a little over a week, but he was making amazing headway detoxing without structured rehab. Would they still send him to rehab if he tested clean of drugs? Or would his progress be ‘rewarded’ with jail time instead?

Launching myself into his arms, I wrapped around him. Despite having that second emerged from the water, his skin was already hot enough to quell my chill. When I lifted my face, he kissed me. Another tender kiss. But I ground my mouth to his and it progressed quickly into a hard desperate mating of our mouths.

“H
ey, you guys!”

Gage ignored the intrusion and continued to brush his tongue to Scar’s.

“Hey, Gage!” Now that was uncommon enough for him to lift away from the sweet taste of the kiss. He didn’t vacation here enough to know many of his neighbors. And since it wasn’t a public lake, the chance of some random fan happening up was significantly lessened. “Gage and Scarla!”

Rascal set up a welcoming bark.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he murmured, a breath away from the kiss they’d abandoned. “What is it with that kid catching us lip locked?” Separated from her, his mind cleared enough to recognize Seth’s voice. Holding her in the proprietary curve of his arm, he took in the two teens dropping the jib on a Hobie Cat. The boat stalled just enough that it didn’t sail past. “Rascal! Shut it! Seth. A little far from home.” He wracked his brain, attempting to make sense of the boy’s appearance.

“We got here yesterday. Jeter’s dad has a place here. Real close to your house.” Seth dipped his hands into the water and scrubbed them on his face and neck.

Jeter looked as heated as Seth did and was fiddling with his life jacket. “You think you could give us a tow back?”

“We’ve been zigzagging across the lake but can’t seem to land where we need to,” Seth explained. “My cell’s dead. And he never brings his.”

“Hard to Face Time Amy when my phone’s at the bottom of the lake.” Jeter shot a wry smile. When his friend scowled at him, he further defended himself. “Hey. She broke up with me that time for not calling all week. When the whole time, my phone was swimming with the fish.”

“Grow a pair already, dude,” Seth retorted. It was partly amusing to see him act a junior of his father in almost every way. But it was equally disconcerting to see him at his young age, already devaluing the opposite sex.

“I keep thinking my Dad will send someone for us.” Jeter rolled his eyes. “But I guess they’re too busy partying at the neighbor’s house to notice we’ve been lost at sea for half the day.”

“Well, we can’t have you lost on the giant lake of arrowhead. You might never be found,” Gage joked and tossed them a rope. “Tie on.” He made sure their end was secured to an eyelet on the back of the boat and gave further instructions to the boys. When everything was secure, he turned before cranking the motor. “Want to board?”