“You’re not afraid?” He watched my face carefully. He’d know if I lied.
I shook my head. “No.”
Delicately, he pressed the sharp tip of the blade against the pad of my middle finger. There was a subtle sting as my skin parted, blood welling up. He moved the knife in slow small lines and Iwas mesmerized by the sight.
What he left behind was a tiny heart, etched into my finger. The pain wasn’t even as bad as a papercut, so why did it feel like it sliced so deep?
He took my finger into his mouth and sucked it clean. I could hardly breathe. All I could hear was my own pounding heart in my ears. The feeling of his mouth enclosing me was so damn erotic I wanted to grab him, tear into him, rip that shirt off his body, and —
“You’re wearing my jacket,” he said. It was an accusation, like I’d done it on purpose.
None of this was on purpose. It justhappenedand then I didn’t know what to do.
I looked down at my finger, allowing the blood to well up again before I pressed it against the collar of his shirt. He looked confused until I said, “Now you’re wearing me too.”
“Uh…Jess? What’s going on?”
We both turned. Danielle stood a little ways away, looking between us in utter confusion as her flashlight illuminated us. Manson hurriedly put the knife away, and I hid my bleeding finger behind my back.
“I, um…I was on my way back,” I said.
I looked up at Manson. His expression was shuttered again, the desperation I’d seen on his face completely hidden. I had no idea what to say. Whatever had just happened — that moment of chaos, those brief minutes of losing control — seemed like it could have been only a dream.
But that dream left its mark in blood.
He turned away, giving neither of us any acknowledgment at all before he stalked off, hands shoved inside his pockets. I watched him go until he disappeared beyond the parked cars.
Danielle hurried over to me. “Are you okay? What happened?”
I slipped my hand into my back pocket, pressing the cut againstthe denim. I had no idea how much she’d seen, and the thought made my stomach clench up with worry. “I’m fine. It was…it was nothing.”
“Girl, that was notnothing. What were you —” She stopped suddenly. “Oh my God, wait. Youdidhook up with him a few years ago, didn’t you? Holy shit. I thought that was only a rumor.”
“Let’s keep it a rumor,” I said, my voice tight.
Luckily, she nodded hurriedly.
“Oh, yeah, obviously I wouldn’t tell anybody! That would, like…really make a rift in the friend group.” She lowered her voice. “Definitely don’t let Alex find out. You know he has a thing for you.”
I almost groaned. “Yeah. I guessed as much.”
“But I won’t tell him.” She smiled sweetly, looping her arm through mine. “It’s our little secret, babe.”
I crashed at Danielle and Nate’s place that night. She drove me back to pick up my car in the morning, bemoaning that she had to go into the office with a hangover.
She brought up again that she wouldn’t tell anyone about seeing me and Manson in the trees. But instead of being reassured, I felt more like she was holding it over my head.
“I’ll see you at the race next Friday!” she said, waving to me out her window as she drove away.
I was trying toavoiddrama, not launch myself straight into the middle of it. Lucas and Alex’s grudge race was bound to go badly, regardless of who won. But I couldn’t deny how curious I was.
Every time I looked down at my hand and saw the scabbed heart cut into my finger, a strange feeling of guilt and anger flooded me. Would it scar? Was that moment in the trees going to be a part of me forever, another tie to bind me to the men Iwasn’t supposed to want?
Another mark of my own indecision?
On Thursday, Danielle called to ask if I wanted to get dinner together before the race, insisting it wasn’t an event to miss.
“Alex is going to win, easy,” she said. “And you know he’d love for you to be there.”