Slow Burn Part 41

Dean flashes me a heart-stopping grin. "No, they were just curious. And I think they were more attracted to the heat from the engine than by fresh meat. It was pretty awesome."

"It sounds pretty awesome." I consider this. "Let's go camping-but at a campground. I like being close to nature, but I also like having access to indoor plumbing. There are some really nice places in Oregon that I know of. We should check it out someday."

I sneak a glance over at him to see what he thinks of the idea, and to my relief, he's still smiling. "We could do that," he says. "Anytime you want."

I slide off the bed, and land right on top of him. He makes a grunting noise as the air is forced from his lungs at my weight. If he's not going to join me on the bed, there's nothing to stop me from getting on the floor with him.

I move into a kneeling position next to Dean, and nudge him in the ribs. "Wednesday's Signing Day, huh? Are you nervous?"

Dean rolls onto his side, facing me. "No," he replies matter-of-factly.

"Even with the press conference?" I continue, leaning forward.

"It's not a big deal," he replies distractedly. I realize he's staring at my braless chest. It always amazes me that I have the ability to turn him on when I know he's been with girls whose p.o.r.ntastic bodies make my own look like a ten year old boy's.

Turned-on Dean is soo hot.

I try to ignore the way his gaze lights fires in me that I'm certain only s.e.x with him can put out. Wednesday. Right. "And you're still going with LSU, right?"

"That depends," he says, lightly running his fingers over my bare leg, sending shivers in their wake.

My eyes widen in surprise. "On what?"

"On you." When I just stare at him, confused, he suddenly sits up. "I can play ball anywhere. My only requirement is that you're there, too."

"Are you serious?!" I can only gape at him. "You'd still want to be with me?"

Dean just looks at me. "Why do you think I keep asking you which colleges you've applied to? Why do you think I'm here almost every night?"

Wow, okay. I blow out a nervous breath, then wrinkle my nose at him. "You'd really change schools for me?"

"Yes," he says simply. And I believe him. Dean doesn't say things he doesn't mean.

I stare down at my fingers twisting nervously together. "Well, it turns out, you may not have to. LSU happens to be one of the places I've applied to," I confess.

Dean's eyes widen fractionally. "Is that a lucky coincidence?"

"Well, I told you, I don't know where I want to go. You mentioned going there-and I decided to check it out online." I shrug self-consciously. When I glance up and catch his smirk, I narrow my eyes at him. "Don't get all c.o.c.ky about it! I only applied because I like the fact that it's an hour and a half away from New Orleans. I've always wanted to live there."

He turns into serious Dean again, pulling me into his lap. "Pick LSU, Juliet," he murmurs close to my ear.

And just like that, I'm almost panting. Hordes of b.u.t.terflies start fluttering under my skin. d.a.m.n it, this isn't good. I can see myself agreeing to anything Dean asks, and I can't remember why that's a bad thing. Is it? Hm...

It bothers me that I want to give in so easily-I've done it before, remember? I changed schools for Johnny, and look what that got me. Okay, actually it ended up working out pretty d.a.m.n good so far-but that's not the point. I seem to be the kind of girl whose one pa.s.sion in life is the boy she's dating. I don't want to be that girl.

I wiggle off of Dean's lap, trying to create some s.p.a.ce between us. "Why would I want to do that?" I ask, going for nonchalant.

When I stare at him expectantly, he sighs and runs a hand through his short dark hair. "I'm not good at this," he mutters.

"At what?" I raise my eyebrows at him.

Dean makes a frustrated noise. "Telling you what you want to hear...how I feel about you."

I scoot closer to him again. "You don't have to," I say softly. "I was just giving you a hard time."

He keeps his head down for the span of several heartbeats. When he looks up again, I am utterly entranced by the lovely clarity of his almost translucent eyes. "I don't know any love poems, or anything," he says, self-consciously rubbing a hand over his mouth.

"Dean." I roll my eyes at him. "You're face is a love poem."

Humor lights his eyes. "I think that's my line."

"Yeah, right. My face is more like nursery rhyme." I climb back into bed, and stare up at the ceiling.

The bed dips a little, and Dean's face suddenly appears over mine, bracing himself over me with his hands planted on either side of my head.

"I know what I want," he says quietly, holding my gaze. "I won't change my mind, and I don't cheat."

Will I ever get used to that amazing face looking down at me with such intensity? I reach up to skim my fingers over his cheek, just to a.s.sure myself that he's real. "I'm scared," I admit.

"Of me?" he asks, moving inches closer.

I don't answer, because I don't know. Besides, Dean's lips are temptingly close. I raise up on my elbows, and close the short distance between us. Unable to help myself, I dive right into a full on R-rated kiss.

I love the way he reacts when I touch him-like someone losing a battle with himself. He lowers himself over me, pinning my hands above my head, and so easily we become lost in each other. I could be sublimely happy if we were the only two people in the world right now.

I can tell by his taut muscles that he's keeping himself on a tight leash. I don't help matters when I arch up against him, clearly breaking the "don't tempt Dean" rules. He makes a strangled noise, and tries to draw back.

"Juliet," he growls warningly.

"Dean," I reply, putting everything I'm offering in that one syllable.

But he's shaking his head, trying to disentangle himself from me. "Not until you're sure this is what you want."

"I don't know," I say, agitated. "I mean, I really want to, but..."

"I know," he says, holding himself off of me.

"I'm sorry," I say, feeling the rock hard tension in his body.

"Don't be. I'd do anything for you," Dean says fiercely, brushing my hair back from my face.

I reach up to wind my arms around his neck. "I would let you do anything to me," I whisper recklessly.

I swear, something primal moves behind his eyes, and I half expect him to turn into a werewolf or something. Breathing hard, he pushes himself off of me. "Don't say that to me," he says in a dangerously low voice. "You don't know what I want to do to you."

Okay, now I'm curious. "Is it something really kinky?"

He glances over his shoulder at me, smirking. "Go to bed, Juliet."

"Okay. Seriously, dude...how kinky are we talking? Because I'm not down with pain."

Dean's already walking away. He scoops up his workout bag before he leaves, so I a.s.sume he's going for a run. "Good night," he says without turning around.

I watch him disappear out the door. Well, d.a.m.n. I roll onto my side to stare at Big Willow, who has the place of honor right next to my bed. "How am I suppose to sleep now?" I ask her.

It's probably my imagination, but I swear she winks at me.

Chapter 43.

I blink, and it's Wednesday. Dean is going with LSU. I point out to him that I won't know where I'm accepted for two months-while he has to make a commitment, like, now. I want to rea.s.sure him that I'll definitely pick LSU if I get in, but something is holding me back. The smart thing to do would be to not make any promises until the letters come in. That will give me time to think about things, and make sure I'm not making the wrong decisions here. Because no matter how I feel about Dean, there are other things to consider. Like...

Look at him. Then look at me. He's a freaking super model star football player, and I'm-I look like the girl next door's little sister. What gonna happen when we get to college, where the girls are more supposedly more aggressive? What if he's discovered by a big Hollywood director who takes him away and introduces him to a ton of glamorous actresses?

My fears are only intensified at the press conference. Dean's dad shows up, acting like he's his agent. Dean just ignores him, and handles the press with a stone face and a mature professionalism that impresses me. They fall all over him, as much for his looks as his talent-and everyone predicts he'll have a rich future doing product endors.e.m.e.nts. Mack is going to LSU, too, and the whole Aina family is there to celebrate-Mack is almost buried under a mountain of leis of flowers and candy. Lorena is there, and we sit next to each other, cheering wildly. I even cheer for Ryan and Jason, who are both signing letters of intent with East Carolina. Dean's eyes meet mine after he signs, and something bright and hot flares between us. My face grows warm as Lorena elbows me in the ribs.

Of course, one person is conspicuously absent. Poor Johnny. I know he wanted to come to support his friends, but he didn't want to deal with the reporters and their insensitive questions. They have the nerve to ask Dean if it's a bittersweet day for him, considering the fact that his stepbrother-who should be signing alongside him-is sitting at home with nothing but his crutches and broken dreams to keep him company. Dean just gives his blank cop face, admirably restraining from punching that particular reporter in the face. I feel like waiting around and tripping the guy if I get the chance.

The entire week is filled with drama. Mack is depressed because he and Lorena are fighting about-basically, about the same thing Dean and I are going through. I tell Mack he should give it some time to see where the relationship is going, and he likes that answer about as much as Dean does. Sloane is back from rehab, or wherever the h.e.l.l she went. She doesn't seem to notice the death glares I give her. Also, it really annoys me how good she and Dean look together. I hate that they're friends, though I'm not about to say anything to him about it.

Oh! Ben gets caught cheating on Arianna with Katerinka! Someone takes a video of Katerinka on her knees in front of Ben at a party-and it totally goes viral. So Arianna goes bats.h.i.t, attacking Ben and giving him a black eye, and a p.r.o.nounced limp in his walk. He's so proud of his injuries! But then she quite publically sleeps with Bobo for revenge (in his car while parked on school grounds!), and everything blows up. Ben goes after Bobo at school, but then Bobo pulls a knife on him! He gets taken down by security before anyone can get hurt, and last I heard they're looking at him as a suspect for the fires. Ben wants a copy of the video showing the attack so he can upload it online, and schemes to hack into Leclare's surveillance system. Something's just not right with that boy. I am definitely keeping in touch with him after we graduate.

"So, Juliet. What are your plans for Valentine's day?"

The piece of bread I'm munching on nearly falls out of my mouth at Kara's question. She's looking at me expectantly, ice blue eyes wide and friendly.

She's still being eerily nice to me, and it just gets creepier the more she does it. Yesterday, she offered let me borrow her new Louis Vuitton bag. I refrain from telling her that I'd rather punch myself in the throat before I willingly accept anything from her.

"Um..." I swallow the bread, nearly choking on it. "N-nothing, I guess."

"I don't buy that," Kara replies, with a sly glance at Dean, who is sitting across the table from me, determinedly eating his lunch, and shutting everyone else out.

My heart sinks. She knows. Of course she does. That sly b.i.t.c.h. What's she gonna do with that information, I wonder. My gaze meets Dean's, and he lifts an eyebrow at the worry I know he can read on my face. I give an almost imperceptible shrug. I'm not going to waste more time stressing about it. She did, however, bring up a good point. Valentine's Day is on Thursday. I've got something for him, but I don't know if he'll like it. Maybe I should get a backup present as well? Boxers with hearts and lips printed all over them? One of those stuffed animals that dances and plays silly songs? I can just imagine the look on his face if I tried to give him those cheesy gifts. I'm totally gonna do it. I'm going to buy him the biggest cheesiest stuffed animal I can find, and the most obnoxious pair of boxers-something that will make him smile. He doesn't do it nearly enough, and I've been making it my mission in life to see one on his face more often.

"Touch it."

"No."

"Come on...give it a squeeze. You know you want to."

A reluctant smile plays about Dean's mouth. But he shakes his head. "No, thanks."

"Fine, I'll do it."

I squeeze the orangutan's hand, and dissonant music and whirring noises accompany its gyrating hips. He's bananas for love. I crack up at the look on Dean's face. Then I squeeze the monkey's hand again to turn it off because even I can't deal with the extreme cheese factor. I reach over my bed to grab the Valentine's Day boxers from the glittery red gift bag I had presented him with that night. I hold it up in front of him, waving it around.

"Are you gonna wear these tonight?" I ask, moving my eyebrows up and down suggestively.

He grabs them from me and holds it out, his brow furrowing. "Are those lipstick prints?"

I pout my lips at him. "My favorite shade."

Dean's eyes widen. "Yours?"

I nod, enjoying the way his eyes suddenly flare as they drop down to my mouth. I'm suddenly very glad I decided to buy the plain white boxers and decorate it myself. Maybe my lip prints right over the fly of the boxers is a little too suggestive, but then again, it is Valentine's Day.

My hand goes to my neck, and I touch the glittering gold necklace engraved with a complex Celtic design. The gold is so delicate, it looks like it's dripping down my cleavage. I absolutely love it.

"I can't believe you remembered about this necklace," I say, tracing the patterns with my fingers. "I brought it up weeks ago."

Dean lifts his head, his gaze meeting mine. "I remember everything you say."

My breath quickens as my insides turn to melting caramel. It's scary how easily this boy can become my whole world. I have to be careful to not let that happen, because if I lost him...I don't know what I'd do.

I launch myself at Dean, surprising him. He catches me instinctively, gripping me under my thighs. When my mouth latches onto his, he stumbles back a step and whirls me around. The back of me thumps into a wall. I wrap my arms around his neck, and wiggle just enough so that our bodies are perfectly aligned. Dean curses under his breath, now supporting me with only one arm, the other hand running up my skirt. I gasp into his mouth. G.o.d, he makes me wanna...

He always has such iron control. I want to make him lose it. I run my fingers through his soft dark hair, and fit a hand between us so I can glide my hand down his chest, past his ripped abs, down to the bulging fly of his jeans. I touch him through his clothes, and he groans. I'm giddy with power.

For that lovely s.p.a.ce in time we communicate with urgent strokes and breathless moans. This time is different-more intense...and so, so right.

"You're killing me," Dean growls in my ear, his breathing still uneven. "So much for my good intentions."

"They're overrated, anyway." I slide down his body. My legs feel like jelly, so I have to lean against the wall for support. I laugh breathlessly.

"Shower?" He arches an eyebrow at me. "Together or separate?"

"Separate," I say with a smile. "You can barely fit in there by yourself, let alone with me. I always hear you swearing when you bang an elbow into the shower door."

Dean grimaces. "Your shower head is set too low."

"Your head is set too high." I make a face at him when he just looks at me. "Take a quick one. I have something else to give you."

He smirks at me. "You've already given me plenty."

"Pervert." I smack his bare chest. "Hurry."

He grabs some clothes, and heads out. I decide to clean up in my mom's bathroom to save time. The woman is never home-I don't even bother to lock my door anymore. It's not like I want her to catch us doing anything, or something sick like that. It's just that she doesn't care, so why should I?

Dean beats me back to the room. He's sitting on my bed, working on his laptop, and flicking his Zippo. Probably doing his project for his drafting cla.s.s. He looks up when I come in, and his gaze is heated. I react immediately, my system flooding with endorphins at the sight of him. G.o.d, this is embarra.s.sing.

Mentally shaking the l.u.s.t from my thoughts, I go over to my desk to grab Dean's present from the drawer. Clutching the black velvet pouch tightly, I plop down on the bed in front of him.