When he turns back to me, that easy charm is back and I’m glad, because that glimpse of what lies beneath it is downright dangerous.
He flops onto his back beside me and we talk about classes and other things which don’t really matter. As much as I hate to admit it, I like having him here. With me. I’m so used to being alone, that the feeling should be alien. But it’s not, it feels strangely right, like some part of me has known him my entire life. It’s difficult to remember that only a few weeks ago, I hated this guy.
My eyes are starting to drift shut when I feel Raph shifting beside me. The fire in the fireplace goes out. Before I can register what he’s doing, I feel his arms around me, lifting me up and carrying me across the room to my bed.
“I can walk, you know,” I protest, but it’s a weak one. I’m half asleep and I find my arms looping themselves around his neck, as if they have a mind of their own.
“I know. But where’s the fun in that.”
He carries me like I weigh nothing. A reminder of the strength contained in that powerfully muscled body. His arms are oddly gentle around me. I must really must be half asleep and I think I might be imagining it, but as he lowers me onto the bed, he lays me down almost tenderly, as if I’m made of glass.
I expect him to leave then, but he flops down next to me on the bed instead, and he looks like he’s settling in for the night.
“What are you doing?” I ask after a moment. I’m now fully awake and painfully aware that Raph is lying next to me. On my bed. The bed is huge, so there’s plenty of space between us, but his presence is still overpowering.
I turn to look at him. The room is dark, the only light coming from the silvery moonlight streaming in through the floor to ceiling windows. Of course, Raph always glows with his own light. God, he’s beautiful, I find myself thinking, and at the same time, trying to stamp the thought out because no good can come of it.
“What does it look like—I’m sleeping in your bed. Duh,” he replies, flashing me that insufferably charming smile.
“No, you’re not,” I reply. “You have your own bed across the hall in your room.”
“I know. But I like your bed.”
He looks back at me all wide-eyed and innocent.
“Best friends have sleep overs all the time.”
“That would be true, but we’re not best friends so …”
I’m fully aware that I’m lying there with my arms crossed over my chest, looking stiff as a board. I’m glad that I changed into a t-shirt and sweats earlier instead of my usual sleeping shorts and vest.
Raph picks up on my extreme discomfort and laughs. He actually laughs.
“Oh, come on, Jaz, I had no idea you were such a prude—don’t tell me you’ve never slept in the same bed as a guy before.”
I clamp my lips together and Raph’s eyes flare in surprise as he interprets my silence.
“No way—”
I cut him off with an indignant look.
“Well, if you must know, I haven’t,” I say, through gritted teeth. I hope that it’s enough to shut him up. But of course, Raph doesn’t drop it.
“You haven’t what?” he prods, his smile growing wider. I want to wipe it off his face, but I say nothing.
His voice is oddly gentle when he speaks again.
“Are you a virgin, Jaz?”
My face is flaming and for a second I consider lying and telling him that I’ve slept with plenty of guys before. But why would I do that? It isn’t true and it would just feed into the rumors that the Dynasty heirs have spread around school about me—that I’m some kind of whore.
The memory of it burns in my mind, and I’m suddenly angry.
“Yes. I’m a virgin.”
His eyes darken and there’s something there that I can’t read, but I’m too angry to care just then.
“Ironic, isn’t it? Those rumors about me being a whore—rumors that you probably orchestrated, couldn’t be further from the truth, because I’ve never even had sex before.”
“But you’ve done other stuff right? I mean, back on Earth you …” He trails off, but I know what he’s referring to.
“I took the job at Rodeo Ricky’s because I didn’t really have a choice. I was one year from being out of the foster system and out on my own. I was saving up for art school and needed to be able to support myself. You wouldn’t understand what it’s like to be in that situation, where you have to do whatever you need to, just to provide for yourself. Sure, I had to wear a skimpy outfit and serve burgers and beers to a room full of perverted old men. But I sure as hell didn’t let any of them touch me and I wasn’t sleeping around.”
The expression on Raph’s face when I turn to him is not one I’ve ever seen before.
“How is that even possible?” he says after a moment, and hurt spikes inside me at the insult.
“How is what even possible? You think that just because I had to bare my body just to provide for myself, that I’m some kind of slut that—”
He cuts me off.
“No, that’s not what I’m saying at all.”
“What I mean is—I mean look at you, you’re gorgeous, Jaz. I …”
He trails off, and I’m stunned into stillness, because I can’t believe my ears. Did he just call me gorgeous? And the way that he’s looking at me just then as if …
I turn away to look at the ceiling, because this is all just too much. We’re straying into dangerous waters, and I feel the tide threatening to pull me under.
He doesn’t finish what he was saying. I let out a long sigh.
“I moved around a lot. Ten different high schools in ten different foster homes and I have some serious trust issues,” I say.
That last part makes him smile.
“Really? I never would’ve guessed that you have trust issues.”
I roll my eyes in response, and I don’t know what makes me say what I say next.
“When I was fifteen, my foster father tried to …” I try to find the words, because other than telling the cops, I’ve never spoken to anyone about this and I have no idea why I’m telling Raph, of all people, now.
“He tried to sexually assault me—”
The waves of palpable anger that I feel rolling off Raph cuts me off. He looks so furious, that he’s almost glowing with anger.
“But it didn’t get that far. I kicked him in the balls and called the police.”
He chuckles then.
“But it meant that for a long while after, I didn’t like to be touched. I guess I still don’t,” I say.
“So, to answer your earlier question, I haven’t done other stuff. I hadn’t even kissed anyone before until that kiss with Baron that night at Twisted.”
Those blue eyes burn like twin flames in the darkness, and he looks almost angry. Why would Baron being my first kiss even matter to him?
“What’s the matter?” I ask.
“Firstly, I’m going to kick Baron’s ass.”
I gape at him in response.
“Secondly, I feel like a total dick. I had no idea. I’m so sorry, Jaz.”
I smile then, despite myself.
“Well, like I said before, you are an asshole.”
He laughs.
We’re silent for a long while and he seems to be thinking something over in his mind.
“I haven’t ever slept with a girl either, by the way.”