Beneath The Skin(38)

And maybe other things, if I can keep her attention.

Maybe things involving her boobs, which I can’t stop staring at in that sexy red crop top.

Maybe things involving that ass of hers, that ass I want to grab and lift her up by, that ass I want to slam against a wall as I thrust myself into her.

Penelope … I smile at myself, as if just the revealing of her name was some admission of letting down her walls. She’s let me inside of her.

And now it’s time for her to let another part of me inside her.

I flush her toilet, fake-wash my hands, then let myself out of the bathroom. I clap my hands together, give them a good rub, and return to Nell still sitting on that pedestal staring at my phone.

“I can print out that pic and frame it, if you like it so much,” I tease.

“Candace.”

Candace? “Who?”

“That’s your dancer’s name,” she says, lifting her eyes to meet mine. “She sent a text. Popped up suddenly, covered my face for a second. Candace. Not Clara. Unless that’s yet another ‘artist of the stage’ you … spent time with. Got a thing for C-named dancers?” she teases dryly.

I glance down at the phone in her grip, making the realization. “Oh. I … I know. She really wasn’t any—I mean, she wasn’t a big—Well, like, what I mean is …”

Each time I try to spin it, the explanation sounds worse.

“No, no,” she returns calmly. “Brant, I’m not … No.” Suddenly, Nell laughs. “I’m not jealous. I’m not hurt. This isn’t …”

“I’m just trying to explain that she—”

“No need, really, seriously. Brant, I knew what I was getting into.” She rises and hands me my phone. It lands in my palm with a resolute, fleshy thud.

“What you were ‘getting into’? Wait,” I blurt, frustrated. “Nell, you got this wrong. I’m into you. I’m, like … I’m way into you.” I don’t even know what Clara—fuck, I mean Candace—texted me for. “You’re not ‘getting into’ anything.”

“Of course I am. Listen, I don’t know where you were expecting this thing to go …” she starts.

“Not straight into your bed,” I lie. Or maybe I mean it. I don’t even know. “We’re just getting to know each other, Nell. Totally innocent. I’m not here to just … score. I’m—”

“Great. So, we’ve gotten to know each other. You’ve seen my home, and not many people have. I just thought …” Her eyes detach for a moment, searching for the words. “I guess I just lost track of the time.”

“The time?”

“It’s late. I have an early class.” She folds her arms.

I stare at her. She’s throwing me out. Because of the text, which I still haven’t read. My insides are worked up so much, I could spit acid. “Nell, don’t ice me out just because some dumb girl texted me or whatever.”

“Dumb girl,” she murmurs.

Fuck. “I didn’t mean … Ugh, listen, Nell—”

“You really don’t owe me an explanation, Brant,” she says, her voice annoyingly calm. “We’re not boyfriend and girlfriend. We had dinner tonight. That’s all.”

“But I don’t want it to be just a damn dinner,” I retort, feeling myself getting angry. “I want more with you. I want to like, talk art and, like, get all deep and shit with you.”

“Deep?” She chuckles dryly. “You? Deep?”

I feel my eyes narrowing. Okay, now she’s digging at me personally. “You think I’m just some shallow dude?” It’s like she’s pulling my fears right out of my mind. It’s like she knows my insecurities. She’s playing my heart the way a seasoned pianist pulls wicked music out of thin air the second he sits at the bench. “The idea of a guy like me having any … depth … is a fucking joke to you?”

“They all leave.”

“What?”

“They all … always leave,” she mumbles. “Just go. Spare me the pain of having to figure it out later when you get bored of me, just like every person in my life has gone away. Leave, along with the rest of them. I don’t even care. I don’t even really like you,” she adds.

“Now that, I know, is a lie.” Something else is happening here. There is something … dark … going on in her head that she isn’t telling me.

“I never really liked you,” she repeats.

“You’re just saying that because you’re afraid of being hurt,” I state, despite the nagging doubts eating away at what little confidence I can muster in this situation. “You’re tearing down what we got goin’ on because you’re afraid.”