Freaks in the City Read online

  Warmth bloomed in her chest, enveloping her like a blanket. Her heart beat a little faster, even though she was not physically exerting herself. And everything in the room appeared brighter, as though she’d flicked some internal switch that had instantly upgraded and enhanced her vision.

  Jay did not know whether she was capable of loving Tyler as he deserved to be loved—as a human female would love the male she’d chosen to give her heart to. But if love was an overwhelming sensation of wellbeing, of completeness, of “rightness” and not wanting to be anywhere else in the entire world but here, in this moment, with this person, then she loved Tyler. She hoped it would be enough for him.

  He glanced up and smiled at her.

  Jay’s knees wobbled and she leaned against the doorjamb to regain her balance. What had just happened? And more importantly, why?

  Her disquiet must have shown on her face for Tyler set his guitar on the stand and hopped off the stool to relieve her of the pizza. “You okay?”

  “I’m sure it’s nothing.” Jay clutched the plates and napkins to her chest. It would be very inconvenient if this strange anomaly spread to her arms, too.

  Tyler set the pizza on the sideboard and pinned her with a serious look that informed her she would not get away with changing the subject to distract him. “Tell me, or I’m only going to worry,” he said. “And give me those plates.”

  She handed them over. “Very well. My knee joints went… funny when you looked at me. There is no logical explanation for this physical anomaly.”

  Tyler’s brows pleated. “Funny? Funny, how?”

  “Funny as in weak. Like they were incapable of locking into place and holding me upright anymore.”

  “Ah.” He turned away to put the plates on the sideboard but she caught a glimpse of his lips twitching upward.

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “You find this anomaly amusing.”

  He faced her again, and that twitch of his lips morphed into a full-blown grin Jay could only describe as cocky.

  She tested her legs. Whatever had temporarily ailed them had passed, so she headed for the padded bench seat by the window. Tyler reached out and snagged her arm as she passed.

  She could easily have pulled free but because it was Tyler, because she wanted—needed—to understand everything about him, she allowed him to tug her round to face him.

  “Knowing I can look at you a certain way and be directly responsible for your knees going weak? Hell, yeah! I’m rapt. Smug as all get-out—any red-blooded guy would be.”

  She frowned to let him know that so far as she was concerned there was nothing the least amusing about her body failing to work as it was designed to. It wasn’t as though she could seek out her creator for assistance. If anything went wrong with her and she couldn’t diagnose it and fix it herself, she would be, as Tyler’s twin Caro liked to say, royally screwed.

  His grin faded. “It’s nothing to worry about, Jay. No need to run a diagnostic. It’s a normal human reaction. Sometimes humans have that effect on each other.”

  He pulled her in close, wrapping his arms around her and linking his fingers at her lower back like he feared she might try to escape his embrace. “And just so’s you know, I’m thrilled to itty bitty pieces that I can do that to you—affect you physically just by looking at you, I mean. I’d be gutted if it was all one-sided.”

  Jay arched her spine, leaning backward slightly so she could better observe his face. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, me being glued to the spot, incapable of moving, staring at you like an idiot the first time I saw you. I mean, you opening the front door seconds before I unlock it and my breath catching and my mouth going dry at the sight of you. I mean, feeling like the luckiest guy in the entire freaking world because you chose me.”

  “Oh.”

  “Just oh?”

  “I mean, ‘oh’ as in, I hoped that’s what you meant.”

  His chocolate-brown eyes darkened, the pupils dilating as she stared into his eyes, into his soul. But she wasn’t human, didn’t have a soul. She wondered what he saw when he stared into her eyes. And hoped that whatever he saw it was something real, something he could love.

  She entwined her arms about his neck and tugged his head down to meet her lips. She gave him every opportunity to pull back, to resist. His lips met hers, and she truly thought her racing heart would burst from her chest as his hands skimmed her sides, settled on her hips and pulled her hard against him. Wobbly knees were nothing compared to this involuntary relaxing of her muscles and her limbs, almost as though she was absorbing the heat of his body and melting against him.

  When he pulled away, she choked on a tiny cry of protest. Dazed, she stared at him, wondering at his sudden alertness.

  “Someone’s at the front door,” he said.

  A shiver coursed through her. If she’d been human, she might have labeled what she felt right now as a sense of foreboding. The sensation was so strong it almost cancelled out the disturbing fact that she’d been so caught up in Tyler’s kiss she hadn’t sensed someone approaching her front door. “Let’s not answer it.”

  He tapped his forefinger on her nose. “Could be important.”

  Jay sought a more valid excuse than having a “bad feeling” about whoever was at the door. “They’ll call again. Or ring. Our pizza’s getting cold.”

  Tyler inhaled, momentarily diverted by the mention of food. “Mmm. Smells great.”

  “It is,” she assured him.

  “Okay, you win. We ignore the door.”

  The harsh squeal of the buzzer intruded again. And again.

  Tyler sighed. “Persistent, aren’t they?”

  She should have shut the door behind her and enclosed them in the sound-proofed room. Obviously now there would be no peace until she’d answered the front door. “I’ll get rid of whoever it is,” she said. “Be right back.”

  “I’ll be waiting. Don’t take too long or I’ll start without you.”

  Still distracted by her responses to Tyler, Jay strode downstairs, flicked the lock, and yanked open the door.

  Oh. She should have used the speaker, for then she would have been forewarned. Because of all the people she would least like to see right now—or anytime, for that matter—this girl would top the list.

  “Holy shit! You’re Jaime Smythson?”

  “Surprise,” Jay said.

  The girl took a step backward, doubtless responding to the coldness of Jay’s expression and the displeasure in her voice. “I-I guess you didn’t die in that explosion.”

  “Apparently not.”

  Pause current thought-thread.

  It had suited her purposes for her sudden disappearance during her farewell party to spark rumors she’d been a casualty of the mysterious explosion. She had to respect Evan Caine’s resourcefulness after she’d left him to clean up his own mess. It would have been no small task to doctor the evidence, and bribe and bully officials so that reports listed the explosion as the result of a fire in a meth lab set up in the vacant property. Most officials involved had seen the sense of turning a blind eye to the things that didn’t add up—especially when the alternative was to have it leaked that there’d been a terrorist attack in sleepy little small-town Snapperton. The other officials had been discredited or mysteriously developed serious health issues, doubtless also due to Caine’s behind the scenes machinations.

  Resume.

  “B-but I thought—”

  “You thought what?” Jay interrupted, losing patience with Vanessa’s hesitancy.

  Vanessa squeaked. “I-I thought your surname was Smith?”

  Enough. “What do you want, Vanessa?” Jay asked the question even though she knew exactly what Vanessa wanted—or rather, who. Chandler’s writing was scrawled on the slip of paper Vanessa clutched. She had been to Tyler’s apartment, looking for Tyler.

  “Is… is… Tyler there?”

  Every molecule of Jay’s being screamed at her to shut the door in Van
essa’s face. This girl was trouble. She’d always been trouble. But something in Vanessa’s stance told Jay the girl would not be dismissed so easily.

  Sarcasm was a useful defense mechanism. Jay had previously used it to devastating effect. “Gosh,” she drawled, composing her features into a bored expression. “You’re not here to see me? Gutted. You know, what with you and me being such good friends, and us parting on such good terms and all.”

  Vanessa flushed pink, and moistened her lips with her tongue. “Can I come in?”

  Jay ran her gaze over Tyler’s ex. Time hadn’t been kind to Vanessa. Her ultra-polished veneer had worn away. The way she was dressed screamed “down on my luck”. As did the scuffed and worn duffel slung over her shoulder. Jay supposed being kicked out of school, kicked out of home, and forced to work as a waitress in a truck-stop might have that effect on a girl.

  “Please?” Vanessa said, her voice cracking. “I’ve nowhere else to go.”

  “Of course you haven’t. That would be far too much to hope for.” Jay stepped aside and beckoned Vanessa inside with a sweeping flourish of her hand.

  Had she left the studio door open? She reviewed her actions. Yes. Good. “Tyler!” she yelled. “You have a visitor.”

  “Who is it?” Tyler called back, his voice muffled by what was doubtless a large mouthful of pizza.

  “Your ex.” Jay turned on her heel and headed for the kitchen, leaving Vanessa standing in the entranceway. Apparently there would be one more for dinner. How fortunate she’d made an extra batch of pizza dough.

  ~~~

  Tyler choked on a piece of pepperoni. He only had one ex-girlfriend. What the hell was she doing here?

  He swallowed his mouthful and barreled down the two flights of stairs to confront her… and get rid of her as quickly as possible. No wonder Jay had sounded so weirded out. Nessa was not exactly Jay’s most favorite person in the whole world. And Nessa was the last person he wanted to see, either.

  He pulled up short when he spotted Nessa waiting in the entranceway. God. It really was her.

  Jay walked out of the kitchen, brushed past him without a word, and started up the stairs.

  Fan-freaking-tastic. Tyler’s gaze followed her progress. He thought longingly of the evening he’d planned with her—and of the uneaten pizza sitting upstairs in his studio.

  Great timing, Nessa. Not.

  Guaranteed she was here to try’n wheedle her way back into his good graces. And from the looks of her, maybe tap him for a loan. She’d be shit out of luck on both counts. He reckoned he could tell it like it was, and have her out the door in five minutes, tops. Then he’d spend the rest of the evening making up with his girlfriend.

  His girlfriend promptly stomped downstairs and pushed past him again, juggling plates and the uneaten pizza. Oh yeah, she was POed all right. And she was totally leaving him to deal with Nessa on his own. Not that he could blame her.

  He focused his attention on his unwelcome visitor.

  He’d once believed Nessa to be the most stunning girl he’d ever seen. Despite being a top-jock who’d ruled the school, when she made it clear she wanted to be his girlfriend, Tyler had finally believed he’d “arrived”. He’d thought he was hot stuff and then some, swaggering down the corridors with Nessa hanging off his arm. Of course it hadn’t lasted. Nessa had gotten tired of budget dates and Tyler having to borrow his mom’s car, and she’d dumped him for Matt.

  Tyler could forgive her for that. He could even forgive her for covering her butt and lying through her teeth about the whole drugs debacle. It was much harder to forgive her treating him like something she’d wiped from the bottom of her shoe. Especially when she knew damned well he’d only kept quiet to protect her from the fallout if people learned she was dealing.

  Did he feel sorry the truth had finally gotten out and she’d been expelled? Nope. And if that made him an asshole, then tough. He did feel sorry as heck her parents had booted her out, though. But that wasn’t enough of a reason for him to play nice now.

  His resolve took a bit of a swan-dive when he noted the bruises of sleeplessness beneath her eyes. And the way she shivered beneath her thin hoodie. Her jeans had seen better days—they were grubby and frayed. And her shoes were no longer designer rip-offs, but cheap canvas sneakers. She’d lost weight, too. Her clothes hung on her. All in all, she was a pretty darned sorry sight.

  Before Jay, Tyler might have gotten sucked right back into Nessa’s dramas and immediately offered to help her out. Now, he hardened his heart. Nessa was a taker. She’d take everything he had to offer, and as soon as she found a better option, she’d be off. Tyler and Matt were both evidence of that.

  “What do you want, Vanessa?” Damned if he’d call her “Nessa”. That might give her the idea they were friends, and she could wrap him ’round her little finger. As if. And damned if he’d invite her into the living room and offer her a seat—treat her like a guest.

  She flinched at his harshness. Good. She was on notice.

  “Nice to see you, too, Tyler,” she said. “How’re you doing?”

  He didn’t rise to her baiting tone. “I’d like to get back to our pizza if it’s all the same to you. So I’ll ask one more time: what do you want, Vanessa?”

  She blinked back tears. “Do you have to be so mean?”

  He stared at her, stony-eyed, until she dropped her gaze. “Would it help if I said I was sorry for what I did to you?” she said to the floor.

  Sheesh. She had no freaking idea. “The time for ‘sorry’ would have been around about the time you came clean about all the lies, Vanessa. You know, the ones that got me labeled me a scumbag and kicked off the team? The ones about me trying to drug you so I could have my wicked way with you?” He clicked his fingers. “Oh, wait. You never did come clean about any of it, did you? Too little too late, Vanessa.”

  She peered at him through her hair. Last time he’d seen Nessa it’d been long and blond and straightened to within an inch of its life. Now it was shoulder-length and plain brown and kinda wavy. Guess she couldn’t afford regular visits to a stylist anymore. And he’d known she wore contacts, but he’d never realized her eyes were light hazel—he’d just presumed she wore lenses to make her blue eyes bluer. And if some part of him preferred au naturel Nessa over primped and polished to perfection cheerleader Nessa, he wasn’t keen on admitting it even to himself.

  “You’re right. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry for so many things, Tyler.”

  “Yeah. Whatever.” Being a hardass didn’t come naturally to him—he had to work at it—but he gave it his best shot. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. And he made a production out of glancing at his wristwatch, hoping she’d get the hint.

  “I need a place to stay,” Nessa mumbled.

  “I’m sorry? Don’t think I heard you right.”

  Her chin came up, like she was channeling the old, sharp-tongued Nessa who wouldn’t take any crap from anyone. But instead of fixing him with the usual you-don’t-know-who-you’re-dealing-with gaze that had the power to make a guy cringe and wish he was invisible, she stared at a point beyond Tyler’s left ear. “I got laid off and I couldn’t make the rent. My roommates kicked me out. They kept my stuff—not that I had much, anyway. I’ve got nowhere else to go, and only the clothes I’m wearing to my name.”

  Don’t feel sorry for her. Don’t you dare feel sorry for her.

  When he’d finished with the internal pep-talk, Tyler resorted to snark. If he riled her up and she got pissy, with any luck she’d storm out and become someone else’s problem. Yeah, he was a total chicken. Bwark.

  “Shawn not interested in helping you out, huh? Or Matt, either, I’m guessing. Gee. Don’t I feel special.”

  Her gaze flicked to his face and darted away again. She lowered it to stare at her sneakers. “Don’t be like that, please. I wheedled your address off Matt. He only gave it to me to get rid of me. I had nowhere else to go.”

  Tyler’s gaze cau
ght movement. Jay was stalking Nessa, coming up quietly behind her. His gut clenched, wondering how much Jay had heard.

  He gave himself a mental slap upside the head. Duh. Of course she would have heard everything. And, please God, he’d made it abundantly clear he wanted nothing to do with Nessa or her problems.

  “I have the perfect solution,” Jay said, speaking across Nessa like she didn’t exist.

  Nessa yipped like a startled puppy. Unfortunately Tyler was too freaked by the whole situation to find it amusing.

  “She can stay in your apartment with Chandler and Pete. You spend so much time here your room’s practically vacant.”

  It was a good idea, Tyler thought. Except—

  “I don’t have a job,” Nessa said. “I can’t afford the rent.”

  “No problem about the rent,” Jay said, still acting Nessa wasn’t there. “I’ll pay her share.”

  “Until she gets a job and can stand on her own two feet,” Tyler felt compelled to say. No way was Nessa sponging off Jay. Bad enough that he did—not that he had a choice when Jay went behind his back and paid for stuff without telling him. But he wasn’t going there right now. Instead, he allowed himself to hope that the problem of Nessa was solved. Woot for problem-solving.

  Nessa sucked in a shaky breath. Her gaze darted from Tyler to Jay, and back to Tyler. He guessed she figured he was a safer option than Jay. Smart girl.

  “That guy? The scruffy one who wears the boxers with the kisses all over them?”

  A mental picture of Pete wandering round in his half-mast boxers seared Tyler’s eyeballs. His euphoria drained away. Idiot. Why had he ever imagined this would be easy?

  “Pete.” Jay’s voice sounded like a knell of doom and Tyler winced. He wouldn’t want to be Pete next time Jay encountered him.

  “I didn’t like the way he looked at me,” Nessa said, her lower lip quivering.

  Wait for it. Here comes the nail in the coffin—

  “It made my skin crawl. A-and when he invited me in, he couldn’t keep his hands off me.” Her words were tumbling from her mouth, and her tone was little-girl squeaky. She sucked in a breath and when she exhaled, it was all shaky. “He seriously creeped me out.”