The ringing of the elevator’s emergency phone interrupted our conversation. “Finally,” I shouted, jumping to my feet as Justin grabbed the receiver.

“Yeah,” he answered. “We’re fine, just ready to get out of here.” I wished I could hear the voice on the other end. With all my nervous energy, I almost ripped the phone from his hand.

“Oh, come on. You can’t be serious,” he replied, looking deflated. “Can you at least contact Rob Froch on the fifty-second floor and let him know we’re in here? He’s expecting us.” His words immediately took the wind from my sails also. I slid back down against the elevator wall, waiting for the inevitable bad news.

“It may be a couple hours at least before they can get someone here to fix it,” Justin complained as he hung up the receiver.

8.

November 2010

Meeting Justin’s family was as awkward as I thought it would be. His mother was pleasant during the introductions, but judging by the surprised look on her face, my visit was as unexpected for her as it was for me. I kept a smile plastered to my face as we exchanged pleasantries, while I plotted Justin’s demise the entire time in my mind. Things became more comfortable after his brother and sister joined us, and I watched how they interacted together. He teased his little sister, Hollie, mercifully, but she ate it up. It became glaringly obvious Justin was her hero. His younger brother, Travis, instantly drew me in with his intuitiveness and tender but humorous insight. During dinner he regaled us with stories that I’m sure Justin would rather have remained family secrets. My stomach ached from laughing so hard. It turned out Justin’s mother was a teacher, which made for smooth conversation also. We talked about my majoring in education and how things had changed in public schools during her twenty-five years of teaching. Things had gone so well at that point that I was in the process of silently patting myself on the back, when of course the inevitable happened, and I dropped a stack of dishes as I was helping clear the table. Justin, Travis, and Hollie had all responded by applauding at me standing among the pile of broken dishes. Suddenly, Justin’s demise became an option again.

“I’m really sorry about the dishes,” I apologized for the hundredth time as Trish, Justin’s mom, walked us to the front door.

“Honey, it’s really no big deal. They were a gift from my former in-laws, so you actually did me a favor,” she said, patting me on the back.

I returned her smile, even though I felt like a complete heel.

“Come back and break dishes soon,” Hollie teased from the couch, where she was reading a book.

I grimaced at her words as everyone else laughed at my expense.

“Are you ready, or was there something else you’d like to drop?” Justin joked before opening the door and guiding me out.

“I should kill you for that,” I complained as we made our way back to his jeep.

“Who are you trying to kid? I saw the way you were smiling. You enjoyed yourself. Admit it,” Justin chided me as he opened the door to the jeep. He and Travis had reinstalled the roof and doors after dinner. His mom had chastised him about trying to freeze me out. I tried to reassure her it wasn’t all that bad, but she’d played the mother card and gave the guys no choice in the matter. The nighttime drop in temperature made me silently thankful for her insight. I would have frozen my butt off.

“Fine. It wasn’t as bad as getting the skin on my face melted off,” I declared, buckling my seat belt. “Though I could have done without the dish disaster.”

“Well, I would hope not.”

“They were cool,” I admitted, trying to keep things in perspective.

“They thought you were ‘cool’ too,” he said dryly, seeing through my nonchalant façade.

“So, you don’t live on campus?” I asked as he cranked the engine.

“No. I moved back home when my dad decided to make an example out of Travis. He moved out and I moved in.”

“What do you mean ‘make an example out of Travis’?” I couldn’t picture anyone having a problem with the sweet, lovable teenager I had just met.

“My dad didn’t take too kindly to Travis coming out. He put Travis through the wall in our dining room when he found out,” Justin bit out as he clenched the steering wheel tightly in his hands.

“Seriously? No offense, but how could he not have known?” I asked. After having a simple conversation with Travis, I was able to figure it out. Not because he wore it like a badge or anything, but his mannerisms and soft-spoken nature had been a dead giveaway.

“Yeah, well, my dad is famous for ignoring what’s right in front of his face. He doesn’t like it when things stray from the path he’s set. God forbid his little soldiers have a mind of their own or move to a different beat.”

“So, what beat do you move to?” I asked, sensing so much more to his story.

“Just put it this way: My dad is in the frame of mind that art is for pansies. He had some crazy notion that I would grow up to be a lawyer or some crazy shit like that. When he found out I was majoring in art, he gave me an ultimatum. Pick a real major or get out. I got out. Of course, I made it hard for him to ignore my art,” Justin said.

Suddenly, his words from a couple of weeks ago clicked through my head. “Your tattoos are your designs,” I stated as understanding dawned on me. “You got them so your father would have to face it,” I said with awe, wondering where that kind of belief and strength came from. It made me think about my relationship with my own mom. It wasn’t until I turned fifteen that her notorious busybody ways really began to bother me. I wanted to tell her but could never think of a way to do it without hurting her feelings. Instead, I made it my goal to hold my secrets close and away from her eagle eyes. It was that desire that had prompted me to apply to a school as far from home as I could get.

“Yeah, I got my first tattoo when I moved out. The second and third followed quickly after that.”

“Did it work?” I asked, wondering if his father was finally accepting his dreams.

“Silent treatment for two months,” Justin answered proudly.

“Mature much?” I said sarcastically.

Justin’s laugh had a bit of an edge to it. “Two months is nothing. He hasn’t spoken to Travis in like a year.”

“What a dick,” I said, not caring that I was talking about his parent.

“That about sums it up,” Justin said, shooting me a real grin this time. “Let’s talk about something else. We’ve wasted enough of our one and only date talking about him.”

“Hmmm, I don’t know. You might be able to score another date if you play your cards right,” I answered in my most blasé tone.

“I knew the ole meet-the-family trick would seal the deal,” he said triumphantly, slapping the steering wheel with enthusiasm.

“Are you telling me you played me?” I asked with mock indignation.

“Hell yeah, I did.”

“Maybe I’ll change my mind.”

“Not going to happen. Admit it. You were wrong about me,” he said, placing his hand on my knee.

I narrowed my eyes on his hand, wondering exactly how I felt about it on my knee. I was by no means a prude, but by allowing it I was sending a signal that I was interested. Moments stretched into seconds and seconds into minutes as I allowed his hand to stay. It was neither ignored nor forgotten as each minute slowly passed and the warmth of his hand heated my leg beneath it. I felt like a preteen on my first date with a guy I was crushing on. Back when each brush of his skin against yours would send your pulse racing and make your palms sweaty. Each time he removed it to shift gears on the jeep he would return to the original position on my knee, distracting me all over again.

“Ready?” he asked, breaking into my knee trance.

“What?” I asked confused, pulling my mind back to reality. “Oh, we’re back,” I said as I spotted my dorm.

“You okay?” he asked, cutting the engine.

“Just tired, I guess,” I answered lamely.

He looked disappointed at my words, but nodded like he understood and climbed from the vehicle. I mentally kicked myself for my uncouth response as he made his way around the vehicle and opened my door. His chivalry didn’t go unnoticed, especially since the last guy I dated not only didn’t open doors for me, but actually let a door slam in my face as he walked through ahead of me. Melissa didn’t even try to reason with me on that one. “Only a dickhead would allow a door to slam in the face of his date.” Her words, not mine.

“You don’t have to walk me all the way up,” I told him, trying to regain some of my common sense as I climbed down from the vehicle.

He looked at me incredulously. “Do you really think I’d just drop you off?”

“It’s not as foreign a thought as you would think. I figured it was the whole I’m-a-college-guy-and-chicks-are-lucky-to-be-with-me mentality.”

He mumbled something about missing out, but I couldn’t quite catch it. I thought I caught kiss and dumb-ass losers, but I couldn’t be sure.

“I had a lot of fun today,” I surprised myself by admitting as we reached the front door of my building.

“Was there ever any doubt?” he teased, lightly tugging at my hand until I was standing in the embrace of his arms.

I snorted out an unattractive laugh. “Have you missed my track record? There’s always doubt when it comes to dates and me,” I joked, trying to appear casual even though his face was suddenly inches from mine. I could make out each line and curve that made his lips look so delectable. I wanted to kiss him and yet I was scared. Kissing was hit-or-miss for me and everything seemed to hinge on it. Today had been pretty close to perfect, but what if he turned out to be one of those kinds of kissers. The ones who tried to eat your entire face and felt it was their job to slather you in saliva—or he could be one of those kissers who used his tongue like a weapon, and not in a good way. In my mind, kissing was an art form, not an assault. Lips should be soft and gentle at first, while the tongue cautiously introduces itself. Only after they’ve met and hit it off should they become more commanding and take charge.

“Hey, where did you go?” Justin asked, breaking into my lip-trance.

“Uh, what?” I asked, dragging my mind away from his lips.

“You totally seemed to fog out there.”

“Sorry. I was thinking about an assignment I should probably work on tonight,” I lied, meeting his eyes.

“Really?” he asked. He called my bluff as his own eyes wandered down to my lips.

“Yes,” I said with bated breath as he moved closer.

“Because it sure looked like you were focused on something else,” he teased, leaning in so his mouth was a hair away from mine. “You sure you weren’t thinking of something else?” he asked as his warm breath fanned across my face.

“Like what?” I asked, unwilling to give him the satisfaction.

“Like maybe this,” he said, placing his lips firmly on mine.

The instant our lips touched, any doubts about what kind of kisser he would be flew from my mind like a kite caught in a sudden gust of wind. His lips were every bit as lush and soft as they looked. I responded to his touch like I had never been touched before. My lips felt desirable and special as he treated them like a rare delicacy. His hands found my hips and he pulled me in closer. My own hands crept up his chest until they were gripping his jacket in knotted fists. Without breaking the kiss, he slowly backed us into the shadows of the building. The small part of my brain that could form a rational thought was thankful for his foresight, only to be quickly shut off as he coaxed my lips open. His tongue slowly found mine as he seduced my mouth and my senses. Everything faded away as I lost myself in the slow burn of desire that was multiplying through every cell in my body.

After a moment, he pulled away as I tried to catch my breath.

“I knew kissing you would be hot,” he said, resting his forehead against mine.

“I’m glad it wasn’t one-sided,” I admitted, still gripping his jacket.

He chuckled. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since you gave me attitude the first time we met. I’ve been dying to know what those bossy lips felt like.”

“Bossy?” I said, shoving at his chest halfheartedly.

He captured my hands in his, pulling me close. “I like that you were bossy. The girls who normally want to hang around me always turn into giggling bobbleheads.”

“That’s because you have a way of reducing girls to blithering idiots,” I admitted.

“You’re not a blithering idiot.”

“I’ve had my moments. It’s those damn lips and pierced eyebrow. They wilt away our senses.”

“You think my lips are sexy?” he asked huskily, running said lips across my cheek. They left a trail of heat across my skin as they made their way to my ear.

“Did I say ‘sexy’?” I asked in a shaky voice as his hot breath breathed into my ear.

“Well, you said ‘damn lips,’ which I happily translated into ‘sexy lips.’ Can I see you tomorrow?” Justin asked, switching gears.

“I have to study for a World History exam on Monday.”

“How about after?” he persisted.

“Um,” I hem-hawed, trying to decide if two dates in a row was a wise idea. I wasn’t sure how fast I wanted things to go.

“Come on, you know you want to.”

“Oh, I do, do I, Mr. Know It All?”

“Are you saying you don’t want to see me tomorrow?” he asked, placing his lips back on mine.

All thoughts of taking it slow and casual fled from my mind like they were being chased by demons. I’d been right all along. He was definitely dangerous.

“Fine, but I get to pick the place,” I caved.

“Deal,” he said, finding my lips one more time. “Now get your cute butt inside before you freeze it off,” he said, taking in the shivers I’d been unsuccessfully trying to suppress.

“Who’s bossy now?” I griped, pulling open the door.

His chuckles followed me as I made my way into the building with a goofy smile on my face.

“I’d be careful with that one. He’s nothing but a player.” A voice startled me from behind.

“What?” I said. I turned around to face the one girl in our building who drove me absolutely batshit crazy. It had taken less than one day last year to see right through her act. Kara put on a good Southern charm show, but after one conversation, it was obvious she was as venomous as a poisonous snake. My instincts had proven to be true. Somehow, she managed to be the root cause of any drama that happened in our dorm. She had an uncanny knack of making people think they were special just as she placed her well-sharpened knife in their backs. Her lies and half-truths had backfired in her face, and by the end of last year everyone was wise to her routine. I’d hoped I wouldn’t get stuck being in the same dorm with her again, or that maybe she’d live off campus somewhere, but I wasn’t that lucky. For the most part, I’d been able to escape her web of drama. Melissa wasn’t as lucky, which would have been enough for me to hate Kara if I hadn’t already come to that conclusion on my own. I had a strict rule: Don’t fuck with my friends. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. You hurt someone I loved and that was it.