“So how can his father think it’s your fault? Isn’t Trevor a big boy? Used to making his own decisions?”
“You don’t get it.” I sprang forward and wrapped my arms around my knees. “I was the one who drove that night. I made that call. Did something stupid and irresponsible, and now he’s in a coma.”
Monroe rolled over onto her stomach and rested her head on her arms. “Don’t you think it could have been any one of you guys driving?”
I shook my head. “Not that night. It was my turn.” The burn in my gut made my voice shake a little, but I couldn’t help it. “We always did that when it came time to party. We took turns, and that night it was mine. It was mine and I screwed up, and nothing will ever be the same again. If I could go back in time and change it, I would, but I can’t and now there’s no more music. I just don’t…feel the music anymore.”
“I think—”
She didn’t have a chance to finish because I cut her off. “Don’t think, Monroe.” I rolled over and grabbed the sunscreen. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“What are you doing?” she angled her head back, her pale eyes wary as I grinned at her.
“Do you want your skin to burn?”
She was too late to answer, and I squirted coconut-scented lotion near the small of her back. Slowly I rubbed it upward, enjoying the view and liking that she was quiet. God, her skin was soft. And the color? It was creamy, white, like the alabaster carvings my grandfather loved.
My fingers looked dark against her, and something about the way they looked and felt made me tight again. I was starting to lose focus—my hands began to travel back down to where they started, and that wasn’t a good idea.
When I was done, I tossed the tube and slid back down beside her.
I’m not sure how long we lay there, so close that it felt as if we were together, but the silence between us made it feel as if she was across the lake.
“Still trying to get me naked?” she said abruptly, and I grinned. I was glad she had made the effort to lighten whatever this was between us. Light was good. Light made things bearable.
“Nope.”
“Huh.”
I glanced her way and found those pale eyes on me, and for a moment, I forgot what I was going to say. Her smile widened and she shot her elbow out, hitting me in the arm.
“You sound like you don’t believe me.”
She shook her head. “That’s because I don’t. I know what you guys are like.”
“You guys?” I guess I should have been insulted, but I wasn’t.
“Yeah,” she said softly. “Rocker guys. They’re always trying to get into some girl’s pants.”
Slowly, I pushed myself up until I kneeled beside her, and then I leaned forward, pushing away a long chunk of hair so I could whisper near her ear.
“You’re not just any girl, and Mrs. Blackwell would skin my ass if I pulled any kind of shit on you.”
“That’s right,” she said, and I heard a quiver in her voice. “Don’t forget it. Gram is fierce.”
“That doesn’t mean I won’t kiss you again.”
I smiled and ran my fingers over her shoulders, liking the way she trembled beneath them.
There was silence. For a heartbeat. Maybe two.
“I might let you kiss me again.” She shrugged and rolled over so that she was up on her knees as well. Her skin was pink and it wasn’t from the sun. I was pretty sure it was all about the heat between us.
“You’ll let me?” I wasn’t teasing anymore. Mostly because my eyes dropped to her mouth and that damn pink tongue of hers was resting between her teeth. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, in tandem with the heavy beats of my heart.
When her eyes fell to my mouth, I might have groaned. Pussy move, but man, she really tugged at all kinds of shit inside me.
“When you play your guitar,” she paused and exhaled. “When you play just for me, Nate. I’ll let you kiss me again.”