Page 49 of Crush
“No, she's not in trouble.”
“Then what is it?”
God, how do I even begin to explain this?
“Shea …” I buried my face in his chest once more. I loved his smell—was it his cologne, or his natural scent? It was so manly, so peppery, so clean. I could breathe that andonlythat for the rest of my life, and I'd die happy. “After you left earlier today, Chloe said some worrying things.”
“Like what?” Shea asked in a startled panic.
I felt bad. I was scaring him over something that wasn't very serious at all. Obviously, there was nothing between Shea and I, so what did we have to worry about?
“Don't be alarmed,” I said soothingly. “For all I know, it could be nothing. But she alluded to wanting to make up for something she did to you once?”
Shea's brow furrowed. “I don't follow.”
“This is sort of embarrassing to say, but she seems to think that she 'set us up' on this date—and that this somehow might make up for something she did to you once.”
Shea frowned. “Oh, Chloe … my poor girl.”
“Does that mean anything to you? She wouldn't tell me what it meant.”
“She feels guilt over the divorce. That's all.” But the heavy look on his face told me there was a lot more to the story than that. “I had no idea she blamed herself.”
“They say it can be awfully hard on kids,” I said.
He paused. “Did she say anything else?”
“A little. I don't know how much I should tell you. I think she has this idea in her head that we could end up together.”
“Ha.” Shea belted out a laugh, like a single bubble from his belly. And then a few more emerged. “Ha, ha ha. Oh, Chloe. Oh, no.”
I hated the fact that he laughed. And I hated even more how his grip on my waist loosened. I wondered if he'd consciously done that or not? I didn't want him to let go of me. I wanted him to sink his claws into my waist and reallygrabme, claim me, own me.
Even though it can't ever happen.
“We have to be careful how we act around her, or she'll get the wrong idea,” he said.
I felt like he was driving the stake right through the heart of my own teenage fantasy. But that was fine and healthy, right? Better than continuing on in denial.
“Yeah. I know. It's sad, isn't it?” I agreed.
“Very sad. I should've seen it coming,” Shea said, shaking his head regretfully. “It's only because she looks up to you so much, Brynn. I can't believe she'd think something like that about us. It's ridiculous, really.”
Okay—I could get behind no longer living in denial. But something about Shea's denial made me feel defiant, bitter, and unwanted. I didn't know what I'dexpectedhim to say. Of course he didn't want me. And even on the incredible off-chance that he did want me, he couldn't outright say it was true! But still, it hurt to hear him say that the idea wasridiculous.
“You're probably right,” I said. But the combination of being hurt and tipsy put me in a feisty mood. “I don't knowwhyshe thinks we're always tip-toeing around the house, flirting with each other, for example.”
“She—she said that?”
“Oh, yeah. That, and a lot worse.”
Shea gritted his teeth. “Do I even want to know?”
“I don't know.Doyou?”
Uncertain, Shea gulped. “Yes?”
“She said that she thinks you're always finding excuses to sit next to me. That you're really handsy and touchy with me. That you never behaved with the other nannies like you behave with me. I don't know—what do you think? Crazy, right?”
