Super Dark (Super Dark Trilogy) (15 page)

“You know, it’s funny,” he whispered. “Just last night, I was thinking about you,”

“Really?” The strength evaporated from my legs, forcing me to lean against the bookcase to keep myself steady.

He licked his lips. “I was thinking about what a great time we had.” He paused. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to play it cool. “What is it?”

The librarian stuck her head round the door and called, “Hello over there. We’re closing, so if there are any books you want, you need to check them out now.”

“I guess that’s our cue,” he murmured.

I nodded, furious that we’d been interrupted.
What does he want to ask me?

The two of us headed toward the reception desk and he placed the Gauguin book back on the returns trolley.

“Aren’t you going to borrow that?” I frowned.

“No, it wasn’t that insightful. And anyway, I can always come back tomorrow.”

Pursing her lips together, the gray-haired librarian hurriedly showed us out and seemed relieved when she locked the door behind us. I guess we’d overstayed our welcome.

A flash of lightening tore through the black sky. “Come on!” Lee shouted. “My car’s just around the corner.”

I followed him through a maze of rain-swept streets to his Lotus, which was in a secluded car park. Quickly, he unlocked the doors and I jumped in the passenger side. Then, for a moment, I just sat there, incredulous that I was really here, sitting beside him again. Only yesterday, this would have seemed like an unattainable dream. Yet somehow, here we were. Together again.

Lee turned the key in the ignition and pulled out of the parking space. We drove for a couple of minutes in silence as I stared out the window at the sheeting rain. I tried to think of something profound to say, but couldn’t. My mind had gone blank. All I could imagine was how soft his lips had looked back at the library.

“Penny for your thoughts,” he said.

I kept my eyes on the road, my arms folded across my chest defensively. How could I tell him that every time I looked at him I wanted to devour him? How could I tell him that he caused such an emotional need in me that I found it hard to breathe?

Then, for some reason, I found the severity of my musings suddenly hilarious, and burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“Oh nothing. Just something Frasier said.”

“Would you mind sharing the joke?”

“No, forget it. It’s silly.”

“No fair! You’ve got me all curious now.” He glanced over and I couldn’t resist the smouldering gleam in his eyes.

“Okay, it’s like this. You’re gonna think this is really crazy, but, well, Frasier thinks you’re some sort of holy man.”

“What?”

“I know, I know, it sounds so silly, doesn’t it?”

“Why does he think I’m a holy man?”

I took a deep breath. “That night at the party. He believes you healed his leg.”

There was a long pause—so long I thought it would last forever. Then Lee burst into giggles. They were infectious. Soon, the two of us were having a full-on belly laugh.

“That’s the funniest thing I ever heard!” Lee chuckled.

“I know, Frasier’s really lost his mind, hasn’t he? I mean, how drunk must he have been?”

“Very drunk,” Lee agreed, wiping away a tear. “Who does he think I am? Superman?”

This got us both started again, and it was a good two minutes before we managed to regain our composures.

“It gets better,” I giggled. “Now he’s saying you fixed his bad eyesight and acne. I mean, how insane is that?”

“Totally insane. So now I’m the genie from
Aladdin
? Your wish is my command! Ha, I didn’t know I was so special.”

The weight of anxiety lifted. Somehow, hearing Lee confirm out loud that it was baloney made me realize just how ridiculous Frasier’s theory sounded. This was real life, not an episode of
X-Men
. How could I ever have allowed myself to get sucked in?

“What was it you wanted to tell me?” I asked. “Back at the library. You said …”

“Oh that. Yes. How would you feel about being my muse?”

“Your what?”

“My muse. My model. I’d like to paint you.”

“Oh.” My voice betrayed an edge of wonderment. Obviously, I was deeply flattered. No one had ever asked me to model for them before. But then my old suspicions kicked in. “Why me? I’m not exactly your typical …” I faltered, finding it hard to describe myself.

“Please say yes. It would mean a lot to me. Honestly, if you want the truth, I’ve been wanting to paint you from the day we first met at the library. I’d already started sketching you when Becky came over and, well, I was sort of embarrassed, so I added her and Frasier to balance things. The truth is, I find your face astonishing.”

“Astonishing? Wow, that’s a new one. What’s so astonishing about me?”

Lee’s pearly white teeth gleamed brilliantly in the half-light. “Perhaps that’s not the right word. Let me put it another way. I haven’t seen anyone with a face like yours before. You’re an artist’s dream. When I look at you, I can tell there’s a lot going on behind those eyes—but you mask it so well, I’m constantly intrigued.”

I was struck dumb. That was the biggest compliment he’d ever paid me, and I had some trouble deciding how to respond. In the end, all I said was: “Thanks. That’s nice of you to say.”

I could have followed it up by complimenting him, but I restrained myself. Lee knew all too well how sexy he was, and I doubted his supreme self-confidence needed a further boost.

We turned onto Roseberry Avenue and parked across the road from my house. Lee killed the engine. Thankfully, the rain had calmed to a drizzle, and was now dotting the windshield with miniscule specks of water.

Adjusting his seat, he appraised me from a side angle. There was a teasing fire in his eyes. “So, is that a yes or no?”

“To being your muse?”

“Yes.”

“Sure, it sounds fun.” I shrugged, trying to make my voice sound casual.

“Can you do it this Saturday?”

“Saturday? Um, yes … actually no. My mum’s having a dinner party. I could do this Friday, if that’s any good.”

“Yeah, Friday’s cool,” he purred, leaning back in his seat so that the top of his face was momentarily lost in shadow. “What time do you get out of school?”

“Five.”

“Okay, so I’ll pick you up at the gates at five-fifteen. Then we can grab some food before heading to my place.”

“Your place?” I gulped. I hadn’t seen that one coming.

“Yes, that’s where my studio is. Why? Is that a problem?”

“Oh no, no problem at all.” I laughed nervously.

Just then, my mother turned onto the street, and we silently watched her totter toward the house. She was dressed up in a black, fur-trimmed coat and red high heels. As she reached the gate, she stalled to rummage through her bag, as if searching for her keys, and then disappeared down the steps to the apartment. For some reason, I felt no urge to call to her, perhaps because Lee was sitting next to me. I didn’t feel ready to make introductions yet.

“Is that your Mum?” he asked softly.

I nodded.

For a second, an expression crossed his face that I couldn’t quite place. Then, hastily, he smoothed it away with a smile. “So I’ll see you Friday then?”

“Definitely.” I unclipped the seatbelt and climbed out. After waving him off, I hurried inside.

Without greeting Mum, I raced to my bedroom and locked the door. I needed some time alone to think. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I kicked off my shoes and rubbed my temples. What the hell was I doing? I barely knew Lee, and here I was arranging to go to his apartment after just one date! What planet was I living on? This broke every rule in my book. Was a gorgeous face and charming personality really enough for me to gamble with my safety like this?

I went over to the mirrored wardrobe and stared blankly at my reflection.
Things are getting out of control.
After taking deep breaths to calm myself, I started to feel a little better.
Maybe I’m just over-reacting, as usual. All Lee wants to do is paint me. What’s so sinister about that?
This would just be a bit of harmless fun. And besides, I couldn’t go through life not trusting people. No guts, no glory, as my dad used to say.

There was a sudden loud beep. Startled, I turned and saw my phone ringing on the dresser. I picked it up and saw the caller ID: Becky.

Rolling my eyes, I answered. “Hey.”

“Hey! How you doing?” Her voice sounded hyper, as always.

“Fine. How are you?”

“Good, thanks. What are you up to?”

“Oh, just this and that …” I felt an unexpected twinge of guilt. “Hold on Becks, I just need to plug in my charger.”

Leisurely, I attached the phone to the wall socket, buying myself some time to get my head straight.

Her voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper: “Is it me or was Frasier looking rather cute today?”

“Yeah, he looked hot,” I agreed.

“Still a bit of a geek though. I mean, those clothes …”

“Actually, I think his sense of style is rather fetching.”

“Fetching?” I heard the smile in her voice and instantly felt at ease.

“Yes,
fetching
,” I repeated, emphasizing the word. “He’s got that whole geek chic thing going on, like Brad Pitt in
Fight Club
.”

“You think Frasier looks like Brad Pitt?”

“I wouldn’t go that far, but he’s definitely a hottie.” Inwardly, I laughed at the inanity of this conversation. Becky’s entire repertoire consisted of boys and cosmetics. Not my thing. But in another way, I was relieved. Perhaps some fluffy girl talk was just what I needed to lift my mood. Plus, it gave me the chance to play cupid.

“So, do you fancy him then?” I teased.

“Who me?” She laughed. “Not in the slightest.”

“Not even a teeny little bit?”

“Okay, maybe a little bit. He’s got lovely eyes, hasn’t he? You’d never have guessed with those crazy fishbowls he wears.”

“Because,” I continued, “a little birdie tells me he might just have a thing for you.”

“No way! Don’t joke.”

“It’s true. I have it from a very reliable source that Frasier worships the ground you walk on.” I winced. Maybe that was a bit too much?

“Really?” She couldn’t contain her excitement. “Tell me more.”

“Nope, that’s all you’re getting for the moment. But put it this way—if Frasier asked you out, would you say yes?”

“Not sure. I’m still messed up over this whole Lee thing.”

My back stiffened. “Have you heard from him?”

“No, and to be honest Sam, I don’t think he even likes me. If he did, he would have at least given me his phone number. It’s ridiculous. I’ve got absolutely no way of contacting him. And there’s something else, too.”

“What?” For some reason, I felt afraid.

“Remember how Lee said he goes to Summerwell Art College? Well, I have a friend who goes there, too, and I asked her to check which class he’s in so that she could pass on a message. That girl searched the entire register and she says there’s no one by that name there.”

“Maybe Lee’s his nickname?” I ventured. “Or a middle name?”

“Come on Sam, don’t be so naive. It’s obvious he’s been lying to us from the get-go. I mean, he doesn’t exactly blend into the crowd, does he? Do you really think someone as gorgeous as that could go to Summerwell and not be known by people? I’m telling you, he’s being mysterious. Lee’s probably not even his real name.”

There was a charged silence. It certainly sounded like he’d given us the run-around—but perhaps Lee had his reasons. Perhaps, like me, he was wary of giving too much away. Perhaps he’d been economical with the truth to protect his privacy. Still, lying about which school he attended seemed a bit much and I could relate to Becky’s indignation. It made me wonder what else he’d lied about.

“Okay, so we’ve established you think Lee’s a pathological liar. If so, then why even waste your time on him?”

“I know, I know. My head’s telling me to forget it, but— oh, I hate feeling like this!”

“You and me both,” I muttered.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Look, do what you like, but I really think you should give Frasier a chance. He’s a lovely guy and he genuinely adores you.”

“All right, I’ll think about it.”

I made my excuses and ended the call. Becky’s indecisiveness was starting to give me a headache. With a sigh, I collapsed on the bed and stared up at the ceiling.
So, the plot thickens
. Somehow, all this new information only made Lee seem even more intriguing. And now I felt especially nervous about Friday.

My mind searched through the conversations we’d had, looking for incongruities. There was something about the medallion ring he wore.
Lee told me he hated wearing jewelry. But his ears are pierced!