“Ack, I can’t stand him,” Abby said with such a sudden adamancy that Marty actually startled, thinking she was talking about Nathaniel.
“Who?” Marty asked, her eyes wide.
“Lionel Ritchie. He is so sappy.” Abby shuddered.
“Oh,” Marty said, still a little unnerved. If she was this worried about her sister’s reaction to Nathaniel, then maybe he had a right to be nervous, too.
“I’m going to go get a drink of water. You going to stay here?” Abby asked.
Marty nodded, relieved Abby was leaving her alone. Maybe she should have come here by herself.
After Abby left, she turned back to Nathaniel, just in time to see him crossing the dance floor, straight toward her.
“Hi there,” he said, stopping directly in front of her.
It was a strange sensation to have to tilt her head up to make eye contact.
“Hi,” she breathed, amazed as always by the beauty of his eyes: pale amber like honey in sunlight.
“I’m glad you decided to come.” Although he sounded a little stiff. He was nervous.
She smiled, putting all her feelings for him into that smile. “Me, too.”
“Do you want to dance?”
Marty hesitated. “I don’t really know how to.”
“Ah, it’s easy.” His hand captured hers, and she was amazed at how large his hand was.
He tugged her out into the middle of the dance floor, and again, she was struck by how impersonal he seemed. Not at all the guy who’d joked with her, flattered her.
He released her fingers, only to pull her firmly against him, and they began moving in an awkward circle to the pitchy voice of Cyndi Lauper.
After a couple of rotations, she chanced not concentrating on her feet and glanced up at him. He wasn’t looking at her, but focusing off the dance floor toward where all his friends stood.
“Is everything okay?”
He blinked down at her as if he were surprised to see her. “Sure. Just…thinking.”
“Are you worried about your friends? I mean, that they will think it’s weird we’re hanging out?”
Nathaniel glanced back over at his friends. “No. They understand the deal.”
Marty found his wording odd, as odd as his behavior. But when she peeked over at his group of friends, they all seemed to be watching them with pleased expressions on their faces.
“I am going to kiss you now.” His statement was so sudden, so unexpected that she halted to a standstill and gaped up at him.
“You are?” she finally managed.
“Yes,” Nathaniel said with flat determination. He leaned down, and Marty, even as shocked as she was, lifted her face toward him.
This wasn’t how she had pictured their first kiss. She’d thought they’d be alone, and it would just happen naturally as they sat talking and laughing. This seemed too quick, too public. But she wanted it. No matter where or how, she wanted to kiss Nathaniel Peck.
As soon as their lips met, Marty expected fireworks or bells, even a whistle—something. But instead, she only noticed that Nathaniel’s lips felt nothing like she’d imagined. They weren’t supple and warm, but taut and cool. And he was almost rough.
She moaned, uncomfortable with his aggressiveness, and pulled away.
“Nathaniel,” she breathed, regarding him with wide eyes.
He stared down at her, his eyes as hard and cold as his mouth. That mouth was now turned up in a mocking smile.
She frowned, totally baffled by his behavior. “Nathaniel?”
He didn’t speak, that almost cruel grin frozen on his face.
Then suddenly she heard them. The roars of laughter. The hoots. The hateful comments.
When she looked around, she realized that they were now surrounded by Nathaniel’s friends.
“Oh, God,” Nathaniel’s best friend, Jared Nye, groaned. “I can’t believe you actually did it. That is just gross, man.” He thumped Nathaniel on the back with a look of disgusted admiration.
“That is beyond gross,” another Nye brother declared. “Shit, you win, Nathaniel. There is no way in hell we’ll be able to top that dare. Nasty, man.”
Marty shook her head, looking from the swarming crowd to Nate. “What are they talking about?”
Lynette Prue, a petite, busty blonde who was known around school as being more than a little easy, moved to stand beside Nate. She twined her arm through his and grinned evilly at Marty. “We are talking about Nathaniel pulling off the most repulsive dare ever. Kissing the freakiest of the ugly Stepp sisters.”
Lynette then turned to Nathaniel, her smile changing from evil to simply wicked. She stroked purple-tipped fingers up his chest. “I should make you brush and gargle before I even think about kissing you. But I really can’t wait.” She reached up and tugged Nathaniel down to her, kissing him long and hard.
Marty stepped away from them, feeling ill. She didn’t even know this person in front of her. This person who’d spent weeks talking and laughing and seeking her out—just to pull off a dare.
She bumped into someone as she continued to move back, trying to escape.
She steadied herself and continued backward. Her eyes clouded with tears and further distorted the already leering faces that surrounded her.
Then Nathaniel stopped kissing Lynette to look back at Marty. She saw something there that was worse than all the hateful, mocking looks of the others. She saw pity.
Something snapped inside Marty, and she rushed forward and raised a hand to slap him. But he caught her wrist before her palm could make contact.
The pity was replaced by a cool, fixed stare. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Marty yanked her hand away and glared up at him. “You can go to hell.”
“Oh, I plan on it,” he said with a smug grin, and his buddies chuckled.
Marty didn’t wait to hear any more. This time, she turned and fled.
Chapter 1
“You’re doing the right thing,” Marty told herself for at least the fiftieth time since she’d gotten into her small sports car and simply decided to drive away. Away from New York City, away from her modeling career, and away from Rod.
This was all a long time coming. It was what she wanted. It was what she needed. And you don’t have to decide anything definite right this minute. Another thing she’d told herself fifty times. She wasn’t running away. She was taking a break. A little time to think.
Right now, however, you need to think about your driving, she thought as her car fishtailed again. When she finally decided to flee her life, it would be to head straight into a nor’easter. Somehow, it seemed oddly appropriate.
The snow had begun to fall heavily once she’d crossed the Maine state line. Now, the white flakes were so blinding that the road seemed only to exist as far ahead as the yellowy beams of her headlights could reach, then it dropped off into a swirling white oblivion.
She sat forward, clutched the steering wheel, and concentrated on the vanishing road.
Just a few more miles and she would be home. Despite the terrible traveling, she fought the urge to press down harder on the accelerator. She’d been patient this long. It wouldn’t do to go careening off