Paradise by the Dashboard Light Read online

  Gah. I need help. Lots of it.

  What I don't need is this kind of distraction; this kind of complication. Once it occurred to me that I'd left him all alone all day without any food, I panicked. I told Ted I had a doctor's appointment and lit out of there like my tail was on fire. I've never lied in order to leave work early.

  What I did next was worse. So much worse that I can't even think about it. I mean, not worse like sleeping with your sister's boyfriend, but not a whole hell of a lot smarter, either.

  Why can't I just keep my head down and ride this out until it's done? A few days, tops. Then I can go back to my uncomplicated life where I work hard and play hard and those two worlds don't collide. Everything has its place and they don't get all mixed up and jumbled, like things are now. I like when things are all separate. That way, I don't get tangled in these messy relationships where I'm only going to get my heart broken.

  Again.

  What I need is a distraction from this distraction. I set about cleaning up the dinner dishes and putting the leftovers away. When I'm done, I finally rejoin Ian, plopping down in the armchair.

  "So, tell me about Dev. Is he seeing anyone?" I don't know why I ask this. Maybe to assuage Ian that I'm not some psychotic stalker. Maybe to assuage myself ...

  "Wait, what? You can't be serious!" His voice is several decibels above ambient.

  I'm taken aback by his reaction, not only with his tone but his volume as well.

  "Why can't I be serious? He seems nice." What he seems is fairly attractive and confident. Plus that accent. Probably someone with whom I could have an uncomplicated fling.

  "He's arrogant and not interested in settling down." Ian's stare is getting a bit intense.

  "Who says I'm interested in settling down? Why would you think that?" My voice is a tad louder than I intend it to be. Okay, I'm yelling.

  Ian holds up his hands in mock surrender. "Whoa, settle down there. A bit defensive, no? I just mean he's not your type."

  "How would you know what my type is, Ian McCallister? What do you even know about me?"

  "Don't you want to settle down, get married, and have kids?"

  The look on his face is so pure and simple that I want to smack it off him. How dare he make these assumptions about me? He thinks he knows me. He's never known me. My blood is boiling. "No. Never."

  He cocks his head. "But I know you don't want to be on your own forever. Having a family is an important thing for you."

  I frown at him, fury starting to rise to the surface. How dare he? And then it happens. All the emotions I've been trying to tamp down come bubbling up, all at once. "Why would you assume that? You have no idea who I am or what I want in life. You don't know me. You never did. Screw you." I get up from my chair and start to leave the room. I know I'm being irrational, but I can't seem to check my emotions around Ian, and I don't like that. I don't like being out of control. And Lord knows I have no control when I'm with him.

  Ian tries to stand up, but it's awkward and uncoordinated, which causes me to move to him in case he needs help. As he teeters off balance, I reach out to steady him.

  I put my hands on his hips. Like a freakin' moron, I put my hands on his hips. Those sexy hips right next to that V that points into the danger zone. Ian in turn sets his large hands on my shoulders to steady himself. "Make me a promise?"

  I don't want to meet his gaze. I can't. I know what will happen if I do. But then I'm left no choice when one of his hands delicately reaches under my chin and lifts it up. His green eyes are captivating. They're my own personal kryptonite. They're doing weird melty things to my insides.

  "Stop running away from me. Bad things happen when you leave me." His voice is barely above a whisper, which makes it sound all the more seductive.

  "Ian, I …" I don't know what to say. I can't be with you? I want you? I will never leave you? I still love you?

  Somehow, none—but all—seem appropriate.

  "Rio, I know you. You can try to act all tough, but you're the softest person I know. You can say you don't want to settle down, but that's all you used to want. You used to ask my mom to adopt you. You don't need to prove to me how strong and independent you are. I've always known. Ever since the first day of kindergarten when you took Evan's hand and helped him walk in. I've known. I know you, Rio."

  That's what I needed him to say that night. Hearing my name from his mouth causes those carefully crafted walls to crumble.

  There's only one thing left to do. I lean in and kiss Ian McCallister.

  I am a fucking moron.

  

  Ian

  Her lips part slightly as they join mine. They are soft and taste faintly of berries. Reflexively, my hand on her chin slides up the side of her jaw as I cup her face gently. I feel her grip on my hips tighten when I pull her closer with my other hand. I need to feel her body. Pressed against me isn't enough. In this instant, with this first kiss, I know. It will never be enough. I have a need I didn't even know I had, and she is the only way to fill it.

  "No. Stop." Rio pushes from me. It's not with a lot of force but enough to make me have to focus on my balance for a minute.

  Steadying myself, I hold my hands up, even though all I want to do is pull her back to me. I don't know what make of her. Confused, I say, "Okay. But you kissed me."

  She takes a step back and then another. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I did that. I'm sorry."

  "It doesn't require two apologies. I didn't mind." Except when she stopped.

  "It was wrong. I'm sorry."

  "Enough with the sorries." I take a tentative step toward her. It's gimpy and painful, and I know I shouldn't be trying it without my crutches. "Rio, I'm okay with it. More than okay."

  "But I'm not. This isn't okay. It can never be okay."

  "Why?" How can she say that? This is definitely okay.

  Her eyes grow wide in disbelief. The look on her face says it all: that I'm an idiot who should know but doesn't. When in doubt, ask. "I'm afraid you're going to have to spell it out for me."

  "You know why." Rio's eyes narrow now. It's her pissed off look. Only one person makes her look this way.

  "Not because of Rainne?" She can't be thinking that. Rainne and me was … years ago. It's in the past.

  "Obviously because of Rainne. There's too much history there. Too much hurt. We're too similar."

  "First of all, you're nothing alike. And do you really think so little of me to think that I'd be with you while thinking about her?" I can't believe that's where her mind went.

  "Why am I supposed to think different? She was all you thought about."

  "It was a lifetime ago. I'm over her. It has nothing to do with us."

  Rio closes her eyes and shakes her head slowly. "I just can't, Ian. Please respect that."

  "Can't right now or can't ever?" I'm getting tired from standing, so I gingerly hobble back to the couch and lower myself down. I feel as if I've run a half marathon.

  "Can't ever, Ian. I can't ever be with you. There's too much and it's too hard and too … complicated. I've had enough complicated to last a lifetime."

  I don't understand what her issue is. Doesn't she see—feel—the connection between us? I can't be the only one. Please don't let me be the only one. "Why is it complicated? No, this is good. We can skip all the getting to know you bullshit. No big childhood secrets."

  Her color blanches as she bites her lip. Finally, she answers, "It's not what I want. I don't do relationships. I'm not like my mother and sister who can only define their worth by the man in their bed. I can make it on my own, and that's what I intend to do. I'm going to go take a shower, and I'll check on you before going to sleep."

  Rio's gaze doesn’t meet mine as she walks out of the living room. I hear her rummaging in her bedroom for a bit, and then in the bathroom. It's probably a good thing she stopped it when she did. I'm not in any condition to take this further, but dumbass me probably still would have tried.

&n
bsp; Rio confuses me. I mean, she's the one who kissed me. Why would she do that if she didn't want to? Why did she get so angry at me before? Why is she angry with me now?

  Stuck on her couch, I feel like I'm in some special sort of hell.

  I mean, I get what she's saying. Her mom was always bouncing from one relationship to the next. The guy in her life was often more important than her daughters, which is why Rainne and Rio spent so much time with us. And eventually Rainne did turn out to be just like their mother. Neither seems to be very good at picking men or prioritizing their kids.

  I didn't see that Rainne was heading down that same path until it was too late. I wish I had. It would have saved me a world of hurt.

  That could certainly explain Rio's aversion to the idea of settling down, although admittedly it makes me sad. Rio was always a girly-girl to the nth degree growing up, constantly with at least one doll or figurine on her person at all times. She called her little plastic princess and pony characters her "guys" and they would frequently challenge, and best, my G.I. Joe's, although I'm still not sure how my imaginary bullets always missed and hers struck their target every time. While Rio wasn't afraid to get dirty, she preferred to play "house" with these elaborately crafted stories and scenarios. Given the perspective of a few decades, it's clear that she was making up the life that she so desperately wished she had.

  So now that she could have it, why she doesn't want it?

  Growing up in her house wasn't great, but Rio was tough enough to handle it. Even when we were barely old enough to know better, Rio had her shit together. Except when it came to Rainne, of course. Rainne was always up to something, and against her better judgment, Rio usually went along with it. I suspect it was mostly to keep an eye on her and prevent her from screwing up too royally. I wonder where Rio was that night when Rainne slept with Travis Nichols. Why didn't she stop her then?

  Someday I'll ask, but tonight doesn't seem like the time to do it, I think as Rio finishes up in the bathroom, and peeks her head into the living room. "You good for the night? I'm going to bed."

  Her tone leaves little room for comment, let alone a witty quip, or another kiss. When I say I'm all set, she disappears into her bedroom.

  For the first time in two days, I'm not tired. Or maybe I'm tired but can't get comfortable. I alternate between sitting with my leg on the coffee table and lying on the sofa. I even try the armchair at one point. It may be the pain and discomfort in my leg. Maybe it's the painkillers or perhaps my lack of activity. It doesn't matter. I can't shut my brain down. It only wants to think about one thing.

  Rio.

  Chapter 15

  Rio

  I'm not strong enough to have Ian not love me again.

  And I know he never will.

  He didn't love me then, and there's no way he'll be able to love me now. Zebras don't change their stripes, and he'll never see me as more than a friend.

  I can't live through that again.

  I need an escape plan. I don't know how long Ian's planning on staying here but whatever it is, it's too long. I can't be around him. I can't see him every day. I can't take care of him. I can't kiss him.

  Because that's all I want to do.

  It's not realistic or feasible. I know it can't ever be. I will never have Ian. That was set in motion the minute he hit puberty and discovered Rainne. Why did it have to be her? Anyone but her.

  He could have lusted after and screwed half the girls in our graduating class, and the past would be the past. But Rainne will always be there. Not to mention the fact that we look so similar. Or at least we used to. Rainne is aging a lot faster than I am—a hard living life will do that to you. But I fear he will never be able to look at me without thinking of her, and that's a deal breaker for me.

  I will not put myself through that again. Of course, it doesn't explain why I kissed him. I still can't believe I did that. I touch my lips with the memory of his mouth. Heaven and hell all rolled into one.

  The only solution is to avoid him at all costs. No problem. Lord knows I've got plenty of work to do. Long hours at the office will serve more than one purpose. If I were a bitch, I'd tell Beth he has to go.

  I'm not a bitch.

  Well, at least not about this.

  Plus, I've literally screwed him over once before. I will not kick him out when he has nowhere else to go. I may be a terrible person, but I can't do that to him.

  Knowing I'll never sleep with this on my mind, I quickly down a Nyquil. I don't care that I'm not sick. I just need sleep.

  Eight hours later, my alarm blares, and I emerge from a drug-induced coma, still groggy and wishing I could call in tired. My reboot is due for the Caparazzos today so even if I were dying, it wouldn't be an option. Part of me feels like I'm dying.

  I don't want to go through this again.

  My hopes are soaring and falling like an errant kite on inconsistent gusts of wind. God, even last night part of me hoped he'd realize that we'd kissed before, and suddenly the stars would align, and he'd know he was meant to be with me.

  That he'd know me.

  But that's not what happened. It's not what will ever happen. The sooner I come to terms with that, the better.

  When I emerge from the protection of my bedroom, I find Ian sitting up on the couch, flipping aimlessly through channel after channel, the flickering light from the TV illuminating the bags under his eyes. His hair is disheveled and his five o'clock shadow appears to have morphed into a beard.

  For a moment, my heart soars at the thought that he was as moved by our kiss as I was, and it has kept him awake all night.

  "You okay?" I ask softly. I don't know why I'm keeping my voice low. He's obviously awake. I have no idea if Beth is even here. "Is Beth here?"

  "She came in about two."

  "Did she wake you up? Have you been up since then?"

  "I wasn't asleep. I didn't sleep." He doesn't tear his gaze from the TV, which I try—unsuccessfully—not to take personally.

  "Like you didn't sleep well or at all?" His face doesn't look great, pale in the light of the TV.

  "Pretty much at all. I can't seem to get comfortable." He wriggles a bit as if to illustrate his point.

  "Oh, I'm sorry. Are you in a lot of pain?"

  "Yes, but I'm trying not to take the pain medication. It makes me too out of it. I need to be off that stuff."

  Rio, walk away. Rio, walk away. Do not get involved (again). Walk away now.

  "Can I do something to help?" Mentally, I slap myself for my overt stupidity.

  "No, I just can't get comfortable on the couch." Ian moves around a bit more, his face tightening with each movement.

  I walk around and squat in front of him. "I'm leaving for work in a bit. Why don't you go lie down in my room? My bed's got to be more comfortable." I bite my tongue to prevent anything stupid from coming out, as if inviting him into my bed isn't stupid enough.

  "Are you sure?"

  I try to ignore the hope in his eyes. The promise that a restful sleep has been dangled in front of him and might be yanked away. "Yes, I'm sure. You need to rest up, right? Not sleeping just makes everything worse."

  "I'm fine not sleeping if I'm busy. When I have nothing to do, my mind goes to a dark place."

  I chant to myself yet again to walk away and not get involved. Yet again, it fails to help me. "What are you worried about?"

  His gaze darts around a bit, searching. "My brother, mostly."

  Ahh, this is a topic that could take hours. Hours that I don't have. "Ian, can you hold that thought, and we'll talk tonight? I'm going to be late, and I have a project due today."

  "Yeah. Are you sure about the bed?"

  I nod and scurry off to get ready, thankful for the shit-ton of work I have to do. I'm going to need it to forget about the fact that Ian McCallister will be in my bed all day.

  

  Ian

  Rio's bed is the best place I've ever been. And I can't believe I'm saying t
hat and not referring to sex, although I bet that will be great too.

  Would be great, I correct myself quickly.

  I take a deep breath and that cake-like scent fills my nostrils. I don't know what it is, but it's delicious. Like Rio's lips. I still don't know where that came from, but I'm not complaining. Not in the least. Frankly, if I weren't so tired, I'd be entertaining a whole lot of scenarios that I’d like to occur when Rio gets home from work.

  From the moment I saw her on that bar, everything's shifted. While I used to consider her like a sister to me, I've definitely had some very non-brotherly thoughts about her. Lots of non-brotherly thoughts.

  Perhaps she broke off the kiss because she was afraid it would be too much for me physically. Who knows how her mind works? She's been so hot and cold these last few days that I have no clue. Which is funny because years ago, I would have said I knew her inside and out. Now all I want to do is fantasize about being inside her.

  Either way, all of this is too much for my tired brain, and I drift off into a blissful sleep, surrounded by fluffy pillows and a scent that drives me mad.

  My slumber is interrupted by the chirping of my cell. I fumble until I have it, noting Mom's name flashing on the screen.

  "Hello?" My voice comes out in a low groan. Quickly I clear my throat.

  "My God, Ian, are you alright? I knew I should have come out there."

  "Mom, I'm fine. I was sleeping. That's all."

  "Are you sure? I'm worried about you."

  "Yes, Mom." I stretch a bit and try to stifle a yawn. "I'm doing fine. I just didn't sleep great last night, so I was dozing off." A glance at Rio's clock tells me I've done more than doze off. I've been asleep for over five hours.