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

“What?” I jolted upright, my back straighter than a board. “I thought you were Crazy Bones, the sexual boy wonder.”

“I made it up.” He faced me again, his jaw tight, his expression defiant. “I wanted to impress you.”

Rather than hearing this, I think I would have preferred being kicked in the stomach and having all my money stolen. With a sigh, I patted the space beside me on the bed. “Have you ever had a girlfriend, Tanner?”

His jaw tightened further. He shook his head.

“Maybe… maybe I could give you some pointers or something.”

Another blanket of silence fell between us. “Really?” he finally said, his voice dripping with innocent need.

I nodded. Sherridan-a gal who apparently had an affinity for leather pants and riding crops-had once projected this kind of neediness, and still did at times, desperate for someone to love her, to show her attention. I vividly remember the way her parents had ignored her, indifferent to her wild, notice-me antics. She’d calmed down considerably over the years, but the void had never left her.

I wouldn’t doubt if Tanner had experienced that kind of childhood, and my heart ached for him.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“Okay.” His expression brightened slightly, and he walked toward me. The bed squeaked as he eased onto the mattress.

“What do you think is the problem? You’re a cute kid-uh, guy. Man. You’re a cute man.”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I see a girl I like, I approach her and lay my smack down, and she gets all pissy and leaves.”

This was worse than I’d thought. “What do you mean by laying your smack down?”

“I mean, I show a woman my best moves and give her my best lines.”

“Give me an example of your best line.”

He spoke without hesitation. “Hey, baby. You want to take a ride on the Tanner Express?” He did a chin tilt, gave a wicked grin and held out his arms.

Dear God. I tented my hands over my mouth and blinked at him. “You honestly say that?”

“Well, yeah.” He lost his smile, and his arms fell to his sides. “It lets the ladies know I’ll provide a nonstop pleasure train.”

“Uh, no, it doesn’t. It lets the ladies know you’re a moron and you don’t respect them, will only be using them, and you couldn’t care less if they have a brain as long as they have breasts and thighs.”

“Fine,” he snapped. “What should I say?”

“For one, I’d mention nothing about taking a ride on any kind of express.” I should not have offered to help him. Even an artist needed something to work with. “You need to compliment women. Tell them how pretty they are. And don’t mention that you really love how their nipples poke through their shirt or anything like that.”

“I’ve tried compliments, and that doesn’t work.” He tumbled onto the bed with a sigh. “It’s hopeless. I’m hopeless.”

I nearly nodded in agreement, but stopped myself in time. “We just need to work on your game a little, that’s all. I’m kind of on the run, as you probably guessed, or I’d take you out and show you the ropes.”

He turned toward me, his face flickering with genuine concern. “Why are you running?”

“I can’t say.” I wished I could tell him, though. How nice it would be to confide in someone. “The less you know, the safer you are.”

“Are you safe?”

“Of course,” I lied, with a wave of my hand.

Doubt darkened his expression, but he didn’t press me. “Do you want to help me, like, after you’re done running?”

“Absolutely.” And I did, I realized. He was endearing.

“Promise? You owe me, remember?”

“I promise.”

He bounded up and strode to the nightstand, finding a pen and tiny notebook in the drawer. “Here’s my number. Call me when you’re safe.” He paused, looked over at me and frowned. “Actually, call me if you need another ride. I don’t like leaving you alone.”

“I will,” I said, but I knew I wouldn’t no matter how desperately I needed him. I’d put him in enough danger already.

“Do me another favor. Promise me you’ll be careful and won’t talk to strangers or hang out in dark alleys.”

“Okay, now you are acting like my mom.”

“I’m serious. What if I’ve put your life in danger?”

“I need a little danger in my life. Think how much it will impress the ladies.”

I anchored one hand on my waist and wagged a finger at him with the other. “It won’t impress them if you’re dead.”

“I can’t die,” he said, his eyes lowering and lingering on my chest. “I’m invincible.”

Spoken like a true teenager. “Get out of here, Tanner, and don’t tell anyone you met me.”

“I won’t.” He gave me one of those slow, wicked grins of his. Lord, in a few years the ladies really would not be able to resist him. No matter what he said to them. “I know you told me not to tell potential girlfriends this, but you really do have pretty nipples poking through your shirt.”

I slapped his arm, but I was grinning, too. “The girls and I thank you.” I got to my feet, clasped his shoulders in my hands and kissed him softly on the mouth. “I think you’re a fantastic guy.”

He reached around me and pinched my butt. “Don’t forget to call if you need me. I’ll see ya around, Viper. Stay safe.”

ALL ALONE, I locked the door and jumped in the shower, luxuriating in the hot water as it washed away ash, soot and the image of the beast monster I’d been. I washed my clothes, too, and hung them up to dry on the shower rod. Since I had torched my spare clothing, I had to wrap the bedsheet around me toga-style.

Exhaustion settled deep in my bones, and I plopped onto the bed. For half an hour I debated whether or not to call my dad. Would I put him in danger by calling him? What if someone had gone in and tapped his phone, hoping to get my location?

Before today, the most exciting incident in my life had been the bathroom funeral I’d held for Martin, my bastard of a betta fish. Oh, to time-travel back to the good old days. A sigh slipped from me as I stared at the phone. My dad would expect to hear from me sometime soon. If he didn’t, he’d worry, and worry wasn’t good for his heart.

That convinced me. Decision made. I’d do it. I’d call. Better to potentially give away my location than to cause my dad stress. If he had a heart attack because of me, I’d never forgive myself.

Fighting a yawn, I clutched the phone in one hand and dialed with the other. He answered on the fourth ring, and he sounded out of breath.

“Hey, Daddy. It’s me.” I strove to keep my tone casual. Breezy.

He coughed and a stream of sizzling static cracked over the line. “Baby doll. Hiya, sweetie. I didn’t expect you to call. With your new man and all I thought you’d be busy.”

I ignored the comment about my “new man.” “Are you smoking again?”

“No, no. Uh-” Cough. Crackle. “I went for a little jog. That’s why I’m out of breath.”

“Daddy,” I said warningly. “I do not support your silver fox habit just so you can put yourself in an early grave with cigarettes and cigars.”

He sighed. “All right, you caught me. But I had to smoke the cigar, baby. Mary has been giving me the cold shoulder, so I had to find something to do with my hands. You know how twitchy I am.”

“Is she refusing to talk to you now?” Their on-again, off-again romance kept me vastly entertained. Truly, I loved that he had a girlfriend. Or two. After my mom died, he hadn’t dated anyone. He’d been too busy working and raising me, trying to give me a balanced childhood, acting as both mother and father.

With that thought, I suddenly wondered about Rome ’s relationship with his daughter. I wondered, too, about his relationship with his wife. Or girlfriend. Or whatever the mother of his child was. Did he love her? Did he crave her with every ounce of his being?