Secrets & Lies 4: The Ferro Family Read online

  Flabbergasted, I gape at him, jaw dragging on the carpet while trailing a line of shiny drool. “I’m sorry,” I laugh and cry more, “but I’m hallucinating now. I’d also like to sleep with you and forget all this shit, but you kicked me to the curb more than once already. Can you hear me?” I wave my fingers in front of his face. I’m starting to think that fourth drink was a bad idea. Oh, God! My fingers are by his nose! I giggle through the tears and wiggle my fingertips.

  Nate clasps his hand around my fingers, and I look up into his face. He’s trying hard not to smile. “Yes, I can hear you. And I owe you one. You saved me that night.”

  I scoff and jerk my head back before jutting it forward again. If I had on hoop earrings, I’d have attitude all up in his face. “I did, and you’ve treated me like crap. I’m done with letting people treat me like I don’t matter.” My spine is straight, and my fingers are free from his hand, and one even had the audacity to flick his nose.

  Nate swallows hard. “So your plan here tonight is to go home with Emily, then roll out the welcome mat for your mother and your ex with a nasty hangover?”

  I sneer at him. “I don’t do girls. Why would you say that?” I turn back and glance at my drinking buddy who hasn’t lifted her head off the shiny bar for the past ten minutes.

  “Because you said..." He makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat as I blink at his pretty face.

  “So you thought I was a lesbo?”

  “No, you told me that you…” His hands flail through the air and every few moments he makes a fist and gnashes his lips together into a silent snarl. He’s so cute when he’s mad. There’s a little wrinkle at the corner of each eye, like a baby crow's foot. I bet Nate was cute as a baby, with fat cheeks and dark wavy hair. Those big blue eyes are perfect. I’m staring into them and can’t remember why I was mad.

  Nate takes my face in his palms and pivots my head until I’m looking at him. I giggle, “Hello.”

  “Kerry, how much did you drink?” He turns his head back to the bar and then down at me. “You’re not even twenty-one, are you?”

  I shake my head and grin. “Emily bought. I’m her responsibility.”

  Nate glances past me and frowns. “Since Emily is passed out on the bar, I’m thinking that was a bad plan.”

  “Emily is really pretty. I want to be pretty.” Nate is ushering me back toward my spot at the bar. I’m about to sit down and start drinking my new pretty glass of tea when Nate pulls it out of my hands.

  “Definitely not.” He gets the bartender's attention and plays keep away with the glass.

  “It’s mine.”

  “You’ll fall on your face,” Nate says, holding it out of arm's reach.

  Emily sits up with a napkin stuck to the side of her cheek, and gasps, “Don’t let her near the stairs!” Her head immediately returns to the bar top with a thud.

  I throw my arm around her shoulders and giggle so hard I can’t stand up. “That was the funniest thing I’ve ever heard!”

  “Come on, ladies.” Nate is prying me off of Emily. He helps her up, lacing one arm under her shoulder and around her waist, leaving the other hand free to help usher me out the door.

  As we pass a couch at the back of the room, a slender woman with wild red hair smiles up at Nate. “I had no idea you were a white knight, too, rescuing silly college girls from themselves.” Her voice is deep and confident. It’s how I hope I’ll sound one day when I’m grown up. I keep waiting for it to happen—to be an adult.

  The room is spinning. I say laughingly, “Someone has to do it.”

  She frowns. “Nice sweatpants.”

  “Thanks, an orphanage in Guam has my entire wardrobe. Like all of it.”

  She arches a perfectly plucked brow at me. But it’s Nate who replies, surprised. “Really?”

  I nod once and nearly puke, so I keep my mouth shut.

  Nathan’s reaction to my clothing disaster is interrupted by the chick he was probably making out with before he prevented me from falling down a stairwell. “Until next time.” She lifts her glass and winks at him.

  His face lights up.

  I hate her.

  CHAPTER 4

  After we tuck Emily into her bed—at least I hope it was her bed—Nate takes me back to his little brownstone on the edge of the city. Austin is a weird place. Though the city sprawls across the land, spread out in a way New York could never be, it still has enough traffic to jam up the streets at any time of the day or night.

  I’m sitting on Nate’s couch with a cup of water in my hands. He’s been telling me to drink it for the past however long I’ve been sitting here. I keep thinking about his rosy face and puffy lips.

  He didn’t want me.

  Nate is sitting on the coffee table across from me, leaning forward, with his elbows on his knees and his hands folded together. His face is strong, and his jaw has a dusting of dark stubble. It makes his eyes appear brighter, bluer. I could look at him forever. The man is a masterpiece of beauty wrapped up in an irresistible body. Then there's his mind, painting abilities, and his sexy smirk. He’s completely swoon-worthy, even after repetitive rejections.

  Nate tips his head and points at my glass. “Drink up or you’ll have a nasty hangover. You won’t be able to tell off your ex tomorrow.”

  My mind is still on a conversation from a few hours ago. “Were you sucking face with that woman? She wanted you.”

  “I know.” He doesn’t elaborate.

  I frown. “Why won’t you tell me?”

  “Because it doesn’t matter. I was there for the same reason you were.”

  “Beer?”

  He laughs, “No, to forget all the shit that didn’t go right and stop thinking for the night. I knew you guys went drinking, but that place isn’t the norm for college kids. They usually go further up the street.”

  “We heard the place was haunted.”

  “Of course. You were looking for ghosts. Well, my night was progressing fine, but then I saw you and—hell. What was I supposed to do?”

  “You were supposed to keep me with you. You were supposed to get rid of the redhead and suck face with me.” Holy fuck, why did I say that? I blink rapidly, not believing the room is still spinning. I pinch my forehead and try to put the water down.

  Nate shoves it back into my hand. “I’m going to force-feed you that if you don’t swallow soon.”

  With a droll expression on my face, I say, “That’s what he said.”

  “Kerry!” Nate tries not to laugh, but can’t help it. “You have no idea what you do to me.” He cups my face between his hands as he says it, looking into my eyes.

  Unfortunately, I can’t hold his gaze long without the threat of ralphing on his shoes. “Likewise.”

  “Here,” he’s more gentle this time and holds up the glass, lifting it to my lips. “Only a little at a time.”

  Before I can say no, he tips up the glass and cool water rushes past my lips. Some spills down my chin and drips into my shirt while the rest slips over my lips and into my mouth. I swallow softly and remain perfectly still—wondering if he’ll do it again.

  He keeps the glass by my lips, and with his other hand, smooths the water over my neck. “Sorry, that must be cold.”

  I’m lost, watching him, wishing for more and knowing I’ll never get it. Why do I keep chasing men who are bad for me? Nate is bad for me. Isn’t he?

  “Here, ready?” I nod. He lifts the glass again. When he lowers it, he wipes his thumb over my mouth, removing any beads of water still clinging to my lip. “That’s not so bad, now is it?”

  I don’t answer. I watch him as he helps me again and again. The way his hands move and his gentle touch are crave-worthy. He smiles and speaks softly, his voice comforting. When his hand is on my neck and he tips the water to my lips, I nearly melt. I think about him trailing those warm hands down my throat and to my shoulder. I want him to pull me close and kiss me like he never wants to let go.

  “What are you
thinking about?” he asks. I’ve been quiet too long.

  “Love. I used to think it was real, but I don't anymore.”

  His eyes cut to the side as he answers. “What made you decide that?”

  “Because the concept of forever is flawed. Love is supposed to be this everlasting thing. If there is no forever, if nothing is certain—not even the love of a mother—then the entire concept is a lie.” I blink slowly, watching him set the glass down across from me. “I don’t like lies.”

  “Neither do I.” His tone darkens, and he looks at his hands carefully. “I’d say you shouldn’t judge your mother so harshly, but I see no point in that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because mine did some atrocious things. Things horrible enough to stain the few memories I had of her forever. Ah, but there’s your certainty of love. If hate can last for eternity, then surely love is possible.”

  “Possible, not probable.”

  He nods in agreement. “Unfortunately.”

  “So you want to be in love? You want forever?” I’m kind of surprised we’re having this conversation, but I like it. Maybe he thinks I won’t remember in the morning. Either way, he’s forthcoming and doesn’t have his walls up. It’s nice.

  He shakes his head and shrugs. “I have no idea what I want anymore. For a long time, no—love wasn’t on my radar, and if I stumbled across it, I got the hell out of there.”

  “And now?” I look up into his beautiful face and hang on his words.

  “Now, I have the urge to run.”

  My stomach twists. “Will you?”

  His eyes are locked with mine and the intensity of his gaze makes me want to look away, but I can’t. There’s something so forlorn in his gaze, sadness that never retreated, darkness that stole nearly all his light. I want to know what made him this way.

  “No. Nothing could chase me away from you.” He’s so close to me and in that moment, everything feels surreal. It's as if a moment went missing from time. I feel the draw to him, the insatiable desire to touch his skin and feel his body on mine. I blink slowly, not wanting to miss a thing. Nate lingers there, head hung between his shoulders, his eyes locked on mine so long I think he’s not going to do anything. Certainly he senses this incredible attraction between us. It can’t be only me.

  Just when I drop my gaze, I feel his finger under my chin. He tips my head back and, before I can ask what’s wrong, his lips are on mine. It’s a whisper of a kiss at first, but it quickly changes to something darker, something raw and unfettered. His mouth presses against mine, his tongue slipping between my lips, demanding more. He moans into my mouth as he stands and towers over me, holding my face, moving me where he wants me.

  Nate presses me back into the couch, kissing me harder and straddling my lap. His hands are everywhere, touching, gripping, and holding me. I writhe beneath him wanting more, wishing there were no clothes between us. I tug his hair hard and drink him in, intoxicated with every bit of him. His scent fills my head and leaves me utterly breathless. I want him to ravage me. I want that feeling of oneness with him as he drives into me.

  I press my hips up into his and arch my back against him. He’s breathing hard in my ear as he starts kissing my neck. His hands slide up my back, under my shirt, and he holds on tight. The bulge that’s rocking into me is becoming harder to ignore. I’m near mindless, purring into his kisses and begging him for more.

  Slowly, he pulls away. “I want this too—so much, but not like this. Not tonight.”

  “Nate,” I reach for him as he stands. “I can’t believe you’re rejecting me again.” I’m close to crying, and beyond ashamed.

  “Kerry, I want to be with you,” he smiles down at me and gently explains, “but you’re a little wasted. I don’t want to take advantage of that. I don’t want you ever to think I’d do something like that. Don’t cry.”

  I don’t answer. I can’t. The lump in my throat is the size of a bowling ball and choking me.

  He turns and trails his fingers down my forearm and into my palm, lacing his fingers with mine before tilting his head to the side and saying, “Come with me.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “To bed.”

  CHAPTER 5

  My arm is draped over my throbbing head as I slowly wake up. There’s a hammering in my head that won’t stop. The sandy sensation in my mouth isn’t cool either. I try to remember what I was doing that lead to this, and vividly recall going to the haunted bar with Emily. After that it gets fuzzy. I was hungry and ate Long Island Iced Teas for dinner instead of food. God, I need a drink of water. I try to swallow, but my throat is too dry.

  Water. There’s a ping of a memory floating around in the back of my head. I didn’t want water and someone with nice hands was a total pusher.

  The memories break through my hangover haze as they bust through the floodgates of my mind. You know those blinders that are attached to your brain that tell you something you did was so dumbass stupid that it refuses to take credit for it? Well, they break away, and I remember.

  “Oh, crap,” I groan and drop my arm from my face. I squint away from the sunlight and feel some pity for vampires who have to walk around like that all the time. They’re commonly mistaken for nearsighted citizens. Squinting is not sexy.

  Neither am I at the moment. I’m aware of my actions last night but too horrified to face Nate. The guy has got to think I’m insane. Speaking of Nate, I glance around and notice I’m in his bed alone. The spot next to me is wrinkle-free, and the bedspread still has neatly folded hospital corners.

  The little room has yellow oak floors and white walls. A few articles of clothing litter the floor near a dresser in the corner with a TV on top. There’s a painting he made hanging over my head. I want to crane my neck to see it, but my brain is trying to claw its way out of my skull.

  A floorboard creaks and Nate appears with a tray in his hands. He rounds the bed to the messy side and sets the tray on a nightstand.

  “Good morning, beautiful.” He’s grinning down at me. He’s so freaking shiny I can barely look at him.

  “It’s not nice to tease people.”

  “I’m not, it’s the truth. I’ve never seen a more seductive woman in my life.” He’s grinning now, and I can’t help it, my face starts burning. “That show you put on was something else.”

  Fuck it. If you do something stupid, own it. I push up on an elbow, and my knotty hair falls over my shoulder. “Sexy, right?”

  “Very.”

  “Especially the way I curved and moved.”

  “Not to mention the kiss.”

  I manage to keep my expression neutral. “Ah, yes, well that was in a league of its own.”

  “Entirely.” If he smiles any wider, his ears won’t fit on his head.

  The corners of my lips twist up into a lopsided grin. “So, before last night, you were a total virgin, am I right?”

  “For that particular scenario, yes. I can’t say I’ve ever done anything like that.”

  Score for Kerry! Be unforgettable, by choice or by accident. It’s all the same in the end. I’m the crazy chick. “I can’t say I remember doing that either.”

  “Mmmm.” That sound is close to a purr in the back of this throat. “Good. I like that I’m the only one who’s seen you flying your freak flag.”

  “That was nothing. There’s all sorts of crazy crap going on up here.” I tap the side of my head and wince.

  “Seriously, though. It was like a sexy Cirque du Soleil performance… with socks.”

  I can’t help it, I laugh. So last night may have taken an unexpected turn. I remember heading to his bedroom and ditching my sweatpants after seeing a pair of his argyle socks on the dresser. While these actions aren’t logical to a sober person, my drunken self considered it totally normal. I might have pulled on a pair and tugged those suckers up to my knees, then started dancing around the room. I moved like a ballerina with no pants and no gloves, wearing only panties, a bra, and my t-s
hirt.

  “Ah, yes. Well, you can’t dance without a pair of kickass gloves.” For some reason gloves were very important, so I ditched my shirt (because that makes sense), and pulled on a second pair of his polka dot socks over my hands and up my arms. They were my opera gloves. I was very proud.

  “Obviously.” He grins so hard a dimple appears on his cheek. It’s impossibly sexy and sweet. The man is hot and I was dancing through his room, plastered. “The puppet show was really something. I can’t say I’ve ever enjoyed watching a girl kiss a sock before.”

  Oh, God. I forgot about that part. Mortified I try to slide under the sheets, but Nate kneels on the floor next to the bed and peers underneath.

  “Actually, I’ve never wanted to be a sock so much in my life.” His dark hair falls in his eyes as he smiles at me.

  “He got more action than you.”

  “By far.”

  “I made out with your socks and then passed out on your bed?” It’s a question because the night gets super fuzzy after that.

  “You did.”

  My eyes cut to the side and then back to his beautiful face. “And you’d like me to leave now?”

  “Hell, no. That was the most amazing evening I’ve had in a long time.”

  I laugh lightly. “Dude, you need to get out more.”

  Nate pulls back the sheet and sits on the edge of the bed. “You need to let your freak flag fly a little more frequently. You’re like a repressed schoolgirl who never did anything bad.”

  I avoid his gaze and play with the hem of the sheet. “That’s a fairly accurate statement.”

  “I like sexy sock girl.”

  I grin sheepishly and tease, “You would.”

  Nate places his hands on either side of my head and leans in close. His lips linger just above mine as he watches me. “Want to do something crazy?”

  No. Yes! Maybe. All three answers must flash across my face based on the way he chortles. It’s an amazing sound. It’s pure joy mixed with this deep tone that caresses me in all the right places.