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The Gathering by Kelley Armstrong (17)

SIXTEEN

MOM SAYS THAT WHEN she was little, her grandmother used to brush her hair a hundred strokes to make it shine. Well, if that works, my hair must have been blinding by the time I finally got downstairs.

I wished I was someone who could say “I’m not feeling well” and hide out in my room. But I had to face him.

As I went down those steps, I was angry and confused, and outraged that he’d show up at my house. But it wasn’t anger making my heart race. I kept thinking of the dreams and thinking of last night and thinking of how he’d made me feel. That scared me because I needed to be totally objective about this.

I found Rafe in the living room, looking out the front windows, hands stuffed in his pockets. His hair looked like it’d been finger combed and could probably use a wash. He wore the same clothes as last night.

He didn’t do it. He isn’t guilty.

No, I just didn’t want him to be guilty.

I stepped into the room. His head tilted, as if he’d heard me and he turned. He saw me there and he stepped forward with a spark in his eyes that made my insides flip and an inner voice scream, “I can’t do this!”

The smile disappeared fast, gaze dipping as he mumbled, “Hey.”

“You wanted to talk to me?”

He nodded. “Can we …?” He looked around and I knew he was going to say “Can we go somewhere and talk?” then realized how that would sound, under the circumstances.

“We can step out on the porch,” I said, then called. “Mom? We’re on the back deck. Is Dad out there?”

“Somewhere.”

Rafe nodded. He got the message. When I whistled for Kenjii after we went outside, I was probably overdoing it, but I wasn’t taking any chances.

We sat on the edge of the deck. Kenjii tried positioning herself between us, but that was a bit much so I nudged her down. She sat at my feet, watching Rafe. I almost hoped she’d growl at him or give some sign that she distrusted him. She didn’t.

I was about to speak when a yowl cut me off. Rafe jumped. I looked up to see Fitz in his favorite tree, staring at me, yellow eyes slitted, like I’d been the one who’d put him up there.

“Hold on,” I said.

I walked toward the tree. Seeing Fitz, Rafe swung into my path.

“That’s a lynx,” he said.

“No, it’s a bobcat, and he’s going to keep yowling until I get him out of that tree.”

“Get him out?” Rafe said. “I really don’t think—”

“It’s okay.”

I grabbed the lowest branch and swung up. When I glanced down, Rafe had his hands on the limb, like he was ready to follow.

“Stand back,” I said. “He doesn’t like strangers.”

“So he’s a pet?”

“I don’t keep wild animals.” Which was true.

Rafe stood there, gripping the tree. “Maya, I really don’t think—”

“I’m serious. Unless you like the ripped look for that jacket, get out of the way.”

I shimmied along Fitz’s branch. Rafe climbed onto the bottom limb and stood.

“Maya, seriously. Don’t—”

I grabbed Fitz. He harrumphed, giving me hell for taking so long. I hefted him up, which is not easy with a twenty-pound cat. Then, holding him by the scruff of the neck, I lowered him toward Rafe. Fitz’s three legs shot out, claws extended. He spit and snarled.

Rafe backed up fast. Then he looked at me, crouched on the branch, holding a spitting, three-legged bobcat. And he laughed. Laughed so loud that Fitz let out a chirp of surprise and started struggling. I leaned down as far as I could and dropped him onto Rafe’s branch.

The branch dipped and Rafe nearly went flying.

He motioned at the stump of Fitz’s rear leg. “Former patient?”

I nodded. “He can climb up fine, but getting down is another story. My mom designed a tree house for him. Once it’s made, I can stop doing this.”

Fitz jumped down and the branch bobbed again. Rafe heaved himself up, face coming nearly to mine, then he stopped and he looked at me, and it was like the last twelve hours vanished and we were back on that roof, before everything happened, staring at each other, my heart tripping.

He smiled, and it was that crooked, sexy-shy smile again, and I forgot about backing out of the way. Forgot why I should back out of the way. He lifted himself up until we were face-to-face, then closed his eyes and leaned forward. That’s when my brain clicked on and I jerked back fast enough to make the branch dip.

His eyes flew open, and he saw the look on my face and his gaze dropped as he mumbled. “Sorry.”

I lowered myself to stand beside him, just out of reach.

“I didn’t do it,” he said.

“And you’d admit it if you did?”

He swore. I glanced at the house. If my mom looked out, she could see us. If I screamed, she’d hear me. If we talked, though, she couldn’t listen in. Good.

I sat beside him, legs dangling.

“That’s the problem, isn’t it?” he said, sitting, too. “I can say it wasn’t me, but I’d say that even if it was. I’ve been up all night, trying to figure out how I can prove it. I can’t. I had access to your drink. I wanted to be alone with you. Whatever that drug did to you, I’m the one who benefited. No one else.”

I couldn’t argue with that, but he looked at me, like he was hoping I would.

“I wouldn’t do that, Maya. Sure, you don’t know me that well, but you said it yourself—I get a girl and I back off before I can collect the payoff. I don’t need to dose girls.” He stopped. “That sounded unbelievably arrogant, didn’t it?”

“Kinda. But if you’re trying to say that only guys who can’t get girls drug them, you’re wrong. It’s not always about that. You’re new in town. You’re trying to fit in, make an impression. You’ve heard I don’t go with local guys. You’ve probably heard I don’t make out with near strangers at parties. Maybe that’s the impression you wanted to make. The cool stud who can get any girl.”

“Sure, if I want Daniel making an impression of my head in the nearest wall. If he caught me kissing you and he wasn’t convinced it was your idea, then I’m on his blacklist. Which means I’m on his friends’ blacklist. I’m on your friends’ blacklist. I’m on the blacklist of everyone who doesn’t want to piss off you, him, or your friends. In this town, that seriously limits my social circle.”

He had a point.

He continued, “Yeah, I’ve done dumb things, as I admitted last night, but think about it—if I dosed you and got you alone, would I have started rambling on like I did?”

Another good point.

“Yes, I know your reputation,” he continued. “So when we started heating up, I knew something might be wrong. That’s why I asked if you’d been drinking. Even when you said no, I wasn’t sure, but, hell, of course I wanted to think you were just that into me.”

Definitely a valid point.

“And, let’s be totally honest. If a guy gives a girl a roofie, he’s not looking for a make-out session. If my hands weren’t wandering by that point, they weren’t going to.”

He shifted on the branch. “I wish I could prove I didn’t do it, Maya, but I can’t. I can only say that it doesn’t make sense. I’d risk getting the crap beat out of me by Daniel, becoming a total social outcast, and maybe even getting arrested and losing Annie. As much as I like you, one make-out session isn’t worth that. And I do like you, meaning one make-out session definitely isn’t worth that if it’d be the last one I’d ever get.”

He looked at me, like he was expecting to see something in my face, and when he didn’t, he frowned. “I do like you, Maya. You get that, right?”

“Why?”

His frown deepened. “Why what?”

“Why do you like me?”

He laughed. “Do you want a list? Smart, pretty, funny—”

“That’s not what I—” I shook my head. “Never mind.”

It sounded like I was fishing for compliments. But something about this bugged me. Hot new guy comes to school, checks out all the girls and decides I’m the one he really, really wants. It was the ultimate fantasy, which meant there had to be an angle I was missing.

Maybe it was as simple as him wanting the girl who didn’t want him. I didn’t know. But it bothered me. And what bothered me even more was this little part inside me that didn’t really care why he was interested, was just happy that he was.

I jumped out of the tree and got two steps away before Rafe followed, catching my sleeve and saying, “Maya?”

I turned.

“You don’t believe me, do you?” he said. “About the dosing.”

“No, I do.”

He grinned that mesmerizing grin and when I didn’t move, his fingers wrapped around my elbow and he tugged me behind the tree. Before I knew it, my back was against the trunk, and he was in front of me, lips coming down to mine.

I sidestepped fast. “No.”

His lips quirked in a smile. “What? You want dinner and a movie first now?”

“You think that’s funny?”

The smile vanished. “Course not. I just—”

“Think we should be able to jump back to where we were, because maybe I was dosed and maybe we went a little further and a lot faster than I like, but it’s still where I wanted to go. That’s what you think happened, isn’t it? I wanted it—I just couldn’t admit it.”

He stepped back and ran his hands through his hair, and I knew that’s exactly what he thought. But he said, “I don’t know what happened.”

“Neither do I. That’s my point. I have no idea how much of it was me, and how much of it was the drug.”

He stepped in front of me again, hands sliding around my waist. “Let’s find out, then.”

I backed out of his grasp. “You aren’t getting this, are you?”

“No, Maya, I’m not.”

“Then I think you should leave.”

He sighed. “Now what did I do?”

“Nothing. I just … I need you to back off.” I softened my tone. “I’ll talk to you at school tomorrow, okay?”

“But I’m here now.”

“What? Are you on a schedule?”

“Course not.” He stepped toward me. “I like you, Maya.”

“You keep saying that.”

“And it’s a problem? I don’t get this. Do you expect me to just wait until you figure things out?”

“No. I expect that if you’re interested enough, you’ll wait; and if you aren’t, you won’t. Your choice.”

“And it doesn’t matter to you one way or the other.”

“I never said—”

He waved off my protest, and strode into the forest. The crackle of twigs continued until his footsteps receded into silence.

I stood there, staring after him long after he’d gone. Finally Kenjii came over and nudged my hand. I patted her head and walked back toward the house.

“Maya?” Mom called as she stepped onto the porch and looked around. “Is Rafael still here?”

I shook my head. She squinted, trying to see my expression, but I stayed in the shadow of Fitz’s tree.

“You should come in and have some breakfast,” she said.

“I’m not hungry,” I said. “I’ll check on the animals.”

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