Gena Showalter - Playing With Fire (tales of an extra ordinary girl)

O-kay. There was no arguing with that kind of dumb-ass logic. I opened the passenger door and eased outside. Humidity instantly wrapped around me, dampening my skin and chasing away the chill. There were more gnats here, but the air was cleaner, fresher than in the city, and layered with the scents of flowers and honey. I inhaled deeply.

Tanner emerged, too, and sauntered to my side. He was a lot taller than me, taller than I’d realized. His pants were so baggy they hung past his waist and revealed the line of his tightie whities. Grinning, he draped his arm over my shoulder.

You had to give the kid points for pretending to be solicitous while covertly groping.

I fought another wave of guilt for lying to him as I pushed his arm off my shoulder. Thankfully, I didn’t cause a national disaster-no telling what reaction guilt might bring. Tornado? Tsunami? No way would I sleep with the boy, though. Only one man heated my blood right now and I’d left him panting. And not from satisfaction.

Tanner deserved the truth, but I couldn’t tell him yet. I still needed him. If someone managed to track me here, they would be less likely to suspect the gal with the teenager of being, well, me.

“This is so cool,” Tanner said.

Our word choices were a wee bit different. What he thought of as cool, I thought of as horrifying. My heart raced as I realized how exposed I was outside, so I picked up speed and rushed to the doors. Tanner stayed close on my heels.

“Try not to stand out,” I told him, gaze darting in every direction. “We don’t want people to remember us.”

“Uh, have you seen me?” he asked, a smile curling the corners of his lips. “I’m unforgettable.”

Good point. “Just try not to say anything outrageous. Or do anything shocking.”

He snorted, sounding amused and exasperated at the same time. “What can I do in a motel?”

I should have known those words would only lead to trouble.

Glass double doors slid open, and a cool breeze kissed me. The lobby boasted thick, violet carpet, a purple couch and glass table. A kitchen area claimed the right side, complete with sink, microwave and toasters. Several dining tables and chairs were scattered throughout. A long white counter curved in three directions, forming a complete M, and blocked the sitting area and kitchen from the offices.

Thankfully, the man behind the counter was the only person inside. He was in his late fifties, with thinning hair and a tall, lanky body. He appeared snobbish rather than menacing.

“How may I help you?” he asked, all business.

The phone rang, but he ignored it.

“We need a room,” I said between rings. I tried to keep my face half-hidden with my hands.

Tanner gave the guy a chin nod and eyebrow lift. “That’s right. We need a room. The two of us. Together.”

I barely restrained myself from punching him in the stomach. Where was his embarrassment now?

The man frowned with nearly palpable condemnation, and asked for Tanner’s name, ID and credit card, all the while clicking away on his computer. As he activated a room key, he said, “I hope you and your… mom have a nice stay.”

“Very subtle,” I said drily. I knew I didn’t look old enough to have a child Tanner’s age. At least, I better not. That might be reason enough to kill myself. “Let’s go, son o’ mine.”

Turning, I grabbed Tanner’s arm. My momentum spun him. “She’s my lover,” the kid called over his shoulder. “And I’m totally not her son.”

I groaned and whispered fiercely, “We don’t want people to remember us. Remember?”

“He could totally feel the sexual sparks we were generating, and I couldn’t let him think I planned to let my mom play with my magic stick. That’s just gross.”

Outside, I was once again swathed in heat and humidity. I’d lived here all my life, but the oppressive temperatures never failed to shock my system, like stepping from a Frigidaire into an oven.

Birds chirped as we veered right, heading toward room 18. When a young couple emerged from one of the units, I kept my head down, not wanting them to get a good look at me as I passed. After the dart incident, I wasn’t taking any chances.

At our room, I unlocked the door and hurried inside. Tanner followed right behind me. The lights were dim, the air a little stale, but at least the place was clean. A queen-size bed pushed against the far white wall consumed most of the space. Dark purple blankets draped the mattress and blended prettily with the light purple carpet. Two floral pictures dotted the walls, hanging directly over two nightstands.

A pang of homesickness took me by surprise. I suddenly craved my own bed, my own apartment. My dad.

“Let’s get this party started,” Tanner said.

I glanced over at him, and my jaw dropped. While I’d been studying the room, he’d been removing his T-shirt, revealing a tanned, lean chest. In a few years, he’d probably bulk up like a warrior and the girls would find him irresistible. Skinny as he was now, with blue hair and eyebrow rings, the kid still managed to radiate a certain kind of sex appeal.

Now he was in the process of unsnapping his jeans.

“Uh, Tanner,” I said.

“Yeah?” He didn’t pause, but gave me a come-hither grin. His jeans fell to his ankles.

I reached out and wrapped my fingers around his wrists before he could discard his underwear. “When I said you’d get sex tonight, I, uh, didn’t mean with me.”

He stiffened, and his lips descended into a frown. “I don’t understand.”

“I, well… ” I reached into my pocket and withdrew several precious bills, already mourning their loss. “Here’s fifty dollars. It’s my pleasure to treat you to a hooker.”

Twin circles of color bloomed on his cheeks. He hastily pulled up his jeans and began resnapping them. “I knew you were lying when you said you wanted to have sex with me. I knew it.”

I didn’t try to deny it. “I’m sorry.” With my eyes, I pleaded with him to understand. “I was desperate.”

He bent down and retrieved his T-shirt. He jerked the material over his head. “I knew you were lying, but I thought just this once I’d take a chance. Stupid me, huh?”

He sounded sad and angry at the same time, and the combination was like a punch in the gut. “How old are you?” I asked.

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Nineteen. Why?”

“I just wondered.” He wasn’t much younger than me, yet in this moment he seemed infinitely so. “If you get the hooker, make sure to wear a condom. Maybe two of them.”

“I’m not getting a hooker. Just keep your goddamn money. You’ll probably need it.” His shoulders slumped ever so slightly. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and simply stared over at me. “So you want me to go or what?”

“You want to stay?” I asked, surprised.

“It’s not like I have anywhere else to go,” he said, his tone bitter. His jaw clenched.

I flopped on the edge of the bed with a sigh. The kid had been so nice to me, and his expression was so forlorn. My guilt intensified, threading a thick web inside me. “Tanner,” I began.

“Stop. Just stop. You’re about to go all girlie on me and explain that I can’t stay because I’d see it as an opportunity to try and sleep with you.”

“Yes. We’re strangers and I-” How did you politely tell someone you weren’t attracted to him? Sure, men had told me that all the time. Albeit silently. The way they looked right through me said plenty. But it hurt nonetheless, and I didn’t want to hurt this boy. “What do you mean, you have no place to go?”

“Forget I said anything, okay?” He turned away from me, but didn’t move toward the door. He remained in place, his shoulders hunched. A long while passed in silence, before he softly said, “When you got into my car, you were the first girl to pay attention to me in a long, long time, and I liked it. I don’t want it to end.”