Somewhere on St. Thomas: A Somewhere Series Romance (18 page)

It was totally deflating to find the room empty when I finally came out. The flowers had been trimmed and arranged in a water bottle whose plastic top had been cut off. I wondered how he’d done it—probably with that Buck knife he carried around.

I spotted a note on my cluttered student desk, written with the plume-quilled pen I’d affected in my persona of Juliette, a French-speaking character I’d made up and pretended to be for a while, to help adjust to life in Boston.

Dear Ruby,

I know you have more to say to me on the subject of emotional blackmail, but you need not bother to explain further because I know exactly what you’re referring to.

I’m not ashamed to say I’ll use any means, fair or foul, to bind you to me. And if that means a long, slow seduction, so much the better.

I was hasty with the proposal and the ring, but I didn’t want you to leave San Francisco without knowing how very deeply I feel and how serious I am about making you mine. I found the ring and removed it, but I hope you’ll wear it someday, and someday I’ll tell you why it’s special.

There will be a “First Night,” and a hundred thousand more.

I love you, Ruby, my creamy maid.

—Rafe

“Damn his poetic soul,” I muttered, my hand against my throat, completely undone by the words in his elegant penmanship with the old-fashioned plume. My anger was completely gone, leaving nothing but sweet longing for him. I looked frantically for some way to contact him—a phone number? An address?

Nothing. Just the note.

The towel fell off, and I paid no heed, frantically picking up the bed by its leg to check the hollow leg of the bed—and sure enough, the little black velvet box holding the amazing ruby ring was gone.

He was gone.

I felt devastated. Hollowed out, furious, abandoned, and lustful, too, a volcano of sexual frustration. My body must have thought it was going to get some release soon, because my itch was back, worse than ever and compounded by the lack of outlet.

I wanted to scream and have a tantrum like a two-year-old.

I had no way to contact Rafe. I had to wait for him to contact me. More of his mind games. Now I saw it how Sam had seen it. I was being played by a master with an A game.
I’m not ashamed to say I’ll use any means, fair or foul, to bind you to me.

What would drive Rafe wild? Make him share my frustration? Make him as miserable as I was?

If I could find a way to be sexually satisfied without him. I could choose Sam, and not Rafe, and sleep with Sam. But I cared about Sam too much to hurt him by using him that way when I wasn’t at all sure if we should be together.

I hated the situation I was in, and I had no idea how to get out of it, and right this minute I was no closer to knowing who I really wanted. At least I’d shucked off Henry and didn’t have one more complication. I promptly felt ashamed of thinking of poor Henry that way. And now I had a party to go to.

I really was a terrible person.

The buzzing of these unpleasant thoughts preoccupied me as I dressed all in black: black turtleneck, black jeans, black zip-up heeled boots. My freshly washed and blow-dried hair floated around me like an iridescent red cape.

I put the platinum heart Sam had given me at winter break on over the turtleneck. It glowed on its sparkling chain like a starry promise.

Maybe it was too much of a promise. I didn’t want Sam getting the wrong idea.

I took it off and grabbed my purse and my old pea coat and hurried out the door.

* * *

The party was in full swing when I finally arrived. I did hugs and kisses and congratulations with my castmates, and we took photos, and finally Sam spotted me and joined me, looping a hand proprietarily around my waist. I removed it, still talking with the director.

“No, I’m not sure what I’m doing this summer,” I said. “Either staying here in Boston and getting a summer job, or going home to Saint Thomas.”

“I know which one I’d choose,” the director’s wife said. “But if you do decide to stay, I need someone to help me with child care now that the kids are out of school.”

“Thanks for the offer,” I said, smiling. “I’ll let you know.”

“Or you could come to New York and spend the summer with Shellie and me,” Sam said as he tugged me away and bracketed me into a corner. “What took you so long?”

“I had to blow-dry my hair.” I held up a drifting handful of the shiny red tresses. “It takes forever.”

Sam was frowning, but his face softened as he ran a hand though it, thrusting his face into my neck and inhaling. “Mmm. I love that watermelon shampoo you use.”

“It’s cheap.” I was still feeling agitated and not sure what to do with those feelings.

“Shellie said she saw a guy in the lobby at the play that looked a lot like what you said Rafe looks like.”

Now I knew why there was a deep dent between Sam’s brows and his eyes were narrowed.

“Yeah. We said hi.” I was done with lies. “I gave him back his ring.”

“You saw him?” Sam’s voice climbed into a higher register, and he grabbed my shoulders. “He gave you a ring?”

“Let go of me.”

He did.

“I have some unfinished business with him. But don’t forget, I’m not with either of you right now. So stop acting all jealous. It’s a turnoff.” I could feel my mouth compressing into a tight line. “In fact, I’m going to enjoy my cast party with my theater friends. I’d appreciate it if you went to your frat house and tortured some freshmen or something.”

Sam drew back. “You’re being a real bitch right now,” he said in astonishment.

“Yeah, well.” I folded my arms. “Deal with it.”

“I’ll be in touch.” Sam shouldered away through the crowd.

I needed alcohol and lots of it. I headed for the bowl of spiked punch.

My friend Colin, who’d performed as Oliver in the play, helped me back to the dorm on one side and Elise, one of the street vendors, held up my other side. I thought drunkenly, as they poured me into bed, that I’d probably lost my chance to get hired as the drama director’s nanny after my drinking at the party.

And then I had no further thoughts on any subject.

Chapter 15

The next morning came way too soon, and with it, Shellie pounding on the door. After I let her in, she handed me coffee. “Sam says you saw Rafe yesterday.”

“I’m getting sick of the two of you spying on me and passing news back and forth.” I sipped the coffee, feeling surly and bedraggled. “Sam’s getting to be a real pain in my ass.”

“He’d like to be a lot more of a pain, if you get my meaning,” Shellie said, obviously making an effort not to be offended by my grumpy words.

“Like he’d let me forget that for two minutes,” I grumbled. “I am trying to navigate this situation, and it’s not easy, let me tell you.”

“Well, I get it now that I clapped eyes on Rafe. Talk about a long, tall drink of Take Me Now.”

I laughed, then clutched my head. “Yeah. And Sam’s pretty delicious, too—not that I expect you to want to hear that about your brother. So I’m in a real situation here.”

“Well, Sam is sincere in inviting you to New York with us, but I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Shellie said.

I flapped a hand. “I agree. I need to either go home and spend time with my family on Saint Thomas, or find gainful employment.”

“Well, I’m almost done packing. I feel bad just leaving you here with no plan.”

“It’s time I got one,” I said. “Gimme a heads-up when you’re leaving, will you? So I can come say goodbye to you.”

“And Sam, too. He’s coming back with Mom and Dad and me.”

“And Sam. Double good reason for me to get out of bed and brush my teeth.” I hauled my hungover carcass into the bathroom.

I could have used another cup of coffee or four, but at least I was dressed with my hair braided and a little mascara and lip gloss on when Shellie knocked on the door. “We’re heading out.”

“Okay.” I helped carry some of Shellie’s many boxes down to the U-Haul the Williamses had rented to transport her things back to New York. Sam was there, working hard and looking amazing in a skimpy black tank top and basketball shorts, but he barely looked at me and grunted in response to comments from his family.

Good.
I didn’t want to talk to him either.

It was going to be better to say goodbye and figure out my summer with all these distractions out of my hair, but I felt anxious and a little like a puppy being abandoned as I hugged Shellie and we finalized our plans to room together again next year, this time in an off-campus apartment.

The Williamses got into the SUV with Shellie in the backseat and the U-Haul attached. They waved and drove away, but large and surly Sam was left standing beside me on the sidewalk.

I frowned. “Why didn’t you go with them?”

“I drove here in my own car.” He gestured to a red Camaro parked nearby.

“Of course,” I said dryly. “Rich frat boys have their own cars.”

Sam looked like Thor in a snit as he put his hands on his hips and lowered his brows. “Whatever. I invited you to New York and you didn’t even have the courtesy to respond.”

“Sam. You know that’s a bad idea. Even Shellie didn’t think it was a good one. I have to either go home or find a job, and I’m leaning toward going home.” I glanced around at the already-deserted campus. “This place is a graveyard already.”

“Well, I’m not leaving with us mad at each other.”

“So you get to tell how it is, do you?” Sam’s comment reminded me too much of Rafe. Rafe’s rules. Rafe setting the agenda. Rafe deciding when and how we’d have sex. Rafe wanting to marry me. “I don’t appreciate how you’ve been crowding me.”

“I hate knowing that he’s here somewhere. And he’s going to make a move on you while I’m gone.”

Yes, Rafe was looming large between us. I wasn’t going to deny that.

“Sam.” I put my hands on his thick shoulders and looked into his eyes. “You have to let go. What will be, will be. You can’t make me do something. I know how you feel, how frustrated you are. Believe me when I tell you, I’m frustrated right now, too. I am trying to figure out what to do.”

Sam stared down at me with those golden, long-lashed eyes. I noticed all the colors in them—green, and rust, and even a fleck of purple—and once more they reminded me of the toads I’d had such an affection for on Saint Thomas.

“I wish it was like the olden days and I could fight him for you,” Sam whispered, his eyes intense, his voice rough.

My nipples tightened and I felt a zing at the thought of a bare-chested Rafe facing down a bare-chested Sam, perhaps wearing loincloths. Would they fight with swords? Or barehanded? God, I’d love to see that, and be the spoils that went to the victor—or perhaps it would be a tie and we could all do it together?

I still found that damn sexy. I stepped up to Sam, hooked an arm around his neck, and drew him down for a kiss that showed him just how sexy I thought that would be.

Sometime later he detached himself. “We’re alone now. You said you don’t want to be a virgin anymore. Want to go upstairs? We can take care of business. I even have a condom.”

He patted his back pocket, smiling like a Viking jumping off his dragon boat in front of a tasty village lass.

I found the words sticking in my mouth. “Wow, you’re right. I did say that. And thanks for the offer. But I’m on a man time-out, remember? And if we had sex, don’t you think it would be like we were together?”

I found I was having a hard time being casual about my first time now that I was on the spot about it. Here was Sam, offering me the perfect foil for Rafe’s “emotional blackmail.” Wouldn’t it fix his wagon, as Mom would say, if I slept with Sam just to deal with the virginity thing?

It would be a blow I doubted Rafe would recover from.

“Would it be such a bad thing for us to be together?” I thought I saw a calculating gleam in Sam’s eye.

He knew exactly what he was doing. He was trying to beat Rafe to get into my pants. He definitely wanted to get there first, but I wasn’t at all sure it was for my benefit.

“No thanks,” I said firmly, stepping back. “I won’t have a phone number after the dorms close, but I’ll call you and Shellie when I know what’s happening with my summer. And I’ll see you when I see you.”

“Dammit, Ruby.” He grabbed my hand and gave it a yank that pulled me against his broad heat. “That was crude, how I asked you. I’m a crude guy. But I mean it. There’s nothing I’d rather do than spend the next few days here with you, getting to know our way around the bedroom. I promise I’d make it good for you.”

“Sam. Thanks. But no.” I tried to pull away.

“You know what? I think you’ve already made your choice.” He let go and pushed away from me. “I’ve wasted enough time on you. I’ve been more miserable since I met you than at any time in my whole life.”

He spun and walked away. I covered my face with my hands, feeling the blast of his hurt. I pretended not to hear his muffled curses, the sound of his boot kicking a trash can, and then the roar of the Camaro firing up and peeling out.