Flock (The Ravenhood)

For you, I can. That’s what I want to say. “I’m sure.”

“I love you, kid.”

MY FIRST TWO WEEKS AT the plant are bearable due to my supervisor and the extended breaks he grants me. Still, I hear the whispers of a few as I walk by, and there’s no mistaking the sneer of a group of women who more than likely hate me for my last name. One in particular, a beautiful Latina named Vivica, constantly eyes me like my day is coming. The news must have spread fast throughout the plant that I was the owner’s daughter because more and more of my smiles go unreturned.

The pacifist in me tries hard to ignore it, turn the other cheek and keep my head down. If I didn’t already think of my time here like a sentence, now I have every reason to. Sean senses their looks as well, but no one questions him when he whisks me off the line, including Melinda, who may not verbally object but doesn’t spare me her skeptical looks when I’m taken from our collective workstation. Though I seem to be public enemy number one, everyone at the plant seems to love Sean, and he has an easy rapport with most of the employees. The irony is that because I’m with him, I’m managing to get by, and it has nothing to do with my last name.

We haven’t spent much time apart since we met. Whether sunbathing before our shifts poolside or spending our nights at the garage where the boys take turns teaching me how to shoot a game. Russell, Tyler, and Jeremy are always there, but Dominic is mostly absent. Even when he does make a rare appearance, he doesn’t give me the time of day. Yet every time I catch him looking at me, his expression keeps me on edge. It’s always a mix of curiosity and disdain. More than once, I’ve tried to summon the nerve to ask him what his issue is, and every time I’ve chickened out.

Since I arrived in Triple Falls, I’ve been wrapped up and around Sean, literally and often, in the oasis in my father’s back yard. Each time we’ve gotten close to anything intimate, he presses a kiss to my temple, not my lips, and releases me. Several times, he’s leaned in with his lips taunting me, and each time I’ll catch my breath waiting, hoping his lips will drift from my temple or cheek to where I’ve spent ample daydreams imagining them. It’s as if he’s waiting for something other than the permission in my eyes to make a move. I’ve caught him numerous times, gliding his tongue along his lip ring while he’s watched me in the way that says we’re anything but friends. Butterflies swarm me when he’s around, and my body draws tight every time he pulls me close. I’ve memorized his body, aching daily to shift our relationship from friends to more. His refusal to act on our chemistry is driving me up the wall. At the same time, I love the delicious anticipation, the feel of his eyes on me as I take a shot at the pool table, the feel of his fingers tracing the water on my skin. It’s been frustrating and enthralling, and I find myself on the line often in the midst of a daydream while Melinda prattles on about her church friends, mostly the pastor’s wife. And not in a flattering way. But since Sean’s unexpectedly come into my life, when I hit the pillow, he’s often with me in my dreams too. Opening my eyes, I find myself grinning as I recall the latest image of him wading toward me in the water, the sun dancing around him, illuminating him as he prowls toward me. Briefly, I entertain trying to sink back into that blissful sleep to continue our rendezvous when my phone vibrates with an incoming message.

Sean: Thinking of you.

What are you thinking?

Sean: All kinds of thoughts.

Care to get specific?

Sean: Some other time.

Coast is clear if you want to swim.

Sean: Good, cause I’m already in your driveway.

Tumbling out of bed, I race down the stairs and open the door to see Sean, his hair damp from a shower and laying in a beautiful mess at his crown, his arms crossed as he leans against his Nova. He’s dressed in boots, shorts, and a black tank, and I take a mental picture as I stand there looking like God knows what.

I blush, combing my fingers through my hair. “I just woke up.”

“You’re beautiful,” he stalks toward me.

I nod over my shoulder. “You can come in. My dad won’t be home until later on today.”

He moves to greet me with a kiss on the cheek and I shy away. “Morning breath.”

“I don’t give a fuck.” He leans in and plants a soft kiss on my jaw, lingering while the air grows thick between us.

Breathless, I resist the urge to pull him closer.

“Do you have hiking boots?”

His question throws me. “Uh, yeah.”

“Dress light and put them on. I’ve got something I want to show you.”

“You’re taking me on a hike?”

Hiking is the last thing I want to do with him.

“It will be worth it.”

“This is beautiful,” I pant out as we climb another set of boulders at the edge of the mountain. Muscles I haven’t used in years scream as the foreign feel of moss brushes my shin while I try to scale the rock. Behind me, Sean spots my every move, his breath hitting my thighs as I glance down where he trails my lower half taking care to help me, in case I lose my footing.

“Couldn’t agree more,” he cups my ass with a hand to help me over a ledge of large rock. The clear insinuation of his tone spreads to my toes as I make it over.

“Where are you taking me?” I ask when I clear the last step and take in the view before he hauls himself up to where I stand, the large backpack strapped to him doing nothing to weigh down his climb. He grips my hand, lacing our fingers when he reaches me. “Not too far now.”

I glance at my watch. I’m supposed to meet Roman for dinner, and I hate the trepidation I still feel when it comes to him. I’m eleven years old all over again. After several meals, we’re no more comfortable together than we were when I arrived.