How many people my age carved soap? Right now Keira was probably just getting home from cheerleading practice, and if Ainsley wasn’t with Todd, she was writing—she was always scribbling down short stories. Or shopping. For someone who didn’t have a job, she did that a lot, too, thanks to a hefty allowance. If she was with Todd, then she was probably making out. Something else she did a lot.
Something I was also kind of jealous of.
Embarrassing factoid I didn’t like to think about was that I’d never been kissed. Hell, I’d never talked to a guy on the phone, and definitely never gone out on a date. Ainsley had tried to fix me up with a friend of Todd’s, but I had totally bailed on that. The idea of meeting him made me want to hurl.
Months shy of turning eighteen, and I didn’t know what it felt like to be kissed or what it was like to be...to be wanted—to be loved in that kind of way.
Was I lacking in something?
I glanced down at myself and wiggled my toes as I narrowed my eyes. Sturdy. My body shape was sturdy, but Rider had said I was beautiful. Without any warning, an image of him formed in my thoughts. Brown eyes with golden flecks, broad cheekbones and incredible lips—lips I bet gave really great kisses.
Oh my God.
I could not, should not, be thinking that.
Shaking those thoughts out of my mind, I opened my eyes. What I was lacking wasn’t thinner thighs or a flatter stomach. It was courage. The fact was, I was a giant scaredy-cat. How could I be thinking about a guy
’s lips when I couldn’t even get mine to work to form words?
My gaze drifted back to the soap. I guessed soap carving was a hobby, but it was a silent one and it required no words to complete, no thoughts. How appropriate. I didn’t have to put myself out there. Not like Keira did with the cheerleading. Shopping really wasn’t a hobby and writing didn’t involve getting out there, but Ainsley was outspoken, friendly and talkative. She didn’t just step out of the box, she played happily outside it. Me? I carved soap. Maybe I should’ve—
From my nightstand, my cell phone dinged. Figuring it was Ainsley since I wasn’t online, I headed over to pick it up.
It was not Ainsley.
R u home?
It was from Rider.
My breath caught.
Another text came through before I could get my brain to respond.
Alone?
My eyes felt as big as planets as I stared at my cell. This time I was not going to be crippled by indecision. I sent back a quick yes.
A couple of seconds passed. A minute turned into five, and I began to wonder if I was totally imagining things, but then a new text appeared and my heart stopped.
Two words.
I’m outside.
Chapter 8
Holy crap.
For a second I was completely frozen as I stared at the text. He was outside? No, he couldn’t mean he was actually outside the—
The doorbell rang, echoing from downstairs, and I whirled around, my lungs expanding rapidly.
Holy crap balls.
My brain sort of clicked off as I darted out of the room and down the hall, my bare feet flying down the steps. I almost barreled right through the foyer, stopping just shy of throwing the door open.
I wasn’t stupid.
Stretching up onto the tips of my toes, I peered through the peephole as I bit down on my lip. All I could see was the back of his head and the breadth of his shoulders.