Play On - Michelle Smith Page 0,77
When she turns back to me, there’s a sneaky smile stretching across her face. “I think the real question is, would your death be worth it?”
I grin. Oh, it’d be worth it. So worth it. I’d die happy. Painfully, sure, but happy.
“So?” she asks slowly. “What do you say?”
I say that you only live once. Might as well take the shots while you can. I hop off her bed and hold my hand out for hers. “You in?”
Her eyes shine as she slips her hand into mine. We head downstairs, where light spills out from the living room. I gesture for her to go ahead. She not-so-gently pushes me forward.
“You ask,” I whisper.
“You,” she whispers back. “You’re the guy. Man up.”
I narrow my eyes. “Really? You’re pullin’ the girl card right now?”
She raises an eyebrow. She has a point. Dang it. Taking a deep breath, I continue on to the living room, pausing in the doorway. Her parents are side by side on the couch, watching TV. Her mom smiles at me, but her dad remains stone-faced. I guess “liking me” doesn’t mean much when he was five seconds away from catching me on top of his daughter.
“Dr. and Mrs. Marlowe,” I say, smiling. “I’m wondering if it’d be okay to drive Marisa out to the pond? It’s about twenty miles out.”
Her dad barks out a laugh, and her mom chuckles right along with him. I’m no pro, but I’d say that’s not a good sign. Marisa squeezes my hand. A little help here would be nice, girl.
Okay. Time for super-manners. I clear my throat. “I promise, I have nothing but the purest of intentions with your daughter.”
Marisa slaps her hand against her forehead. “Oh my God,” she murmurs.
I shrug at her. What does she want me to say? And come on, it wasn’t that bad.
Was it?
Her dad’s laughter finally subsides. “Right,” he drawls. “That pretty much means the exact opposite. Nice try, though.”
“What if we’re back by eleven?” Marisa chimes in. About time.
Her mom shifts on the couch. “Ten,” she says right as Dr. Marlowe opens his mouth. He shoots her a glare, but she focuses on Marisa.
“Ten-thirty,” Marisa says.
Her mom looks between the two of us, her gaze lingering on me for a moment before she nods. “Done. But you better be in this house by ten-thirty. It’s a school night.”
I’ll have her back at ten-twenty-nine as long as they stop looking at me like that.
Marisa backs out of the room, pulling me along with her. “Bye!” she calls as I stumble behind her. Before I can say a word, she’s sliding on her flip-flops and hurrying out the door. I run outside behind her.
“You didn’t give me a chance to tell them thanks,” I tell her.
Her flip-flops clap against the driveway. She glances over her shoulder while heading for my truck. “I was doing you a favor, Pure Intentions Boy.”
Fine. Maybe it was pretty bad.
She kicks her feet up on the dashboard while I back out of the driveway. I hit the button for the windows, and the cool night air whips through the truck. Her hair flies around as she leans her seat back and closes her eyes, relaxing.
We may not have long, but some time alone is better than none. For the past couple of months, it’s been a bunch of baseball, school, work, and, well, hospitals. As much as I love ball and as much as I’ve loved watching her switch into tutor-mode to save my sorry ass, we need something different. Something fun. Something crazy.
Once we hit the dirt road that leads to the pond, Marisa sits upright. I park beneath the old oak tree and look over at her. My heart skips a beat. She’s gorgeous. And now more than ever, I’m sure that I really, really love this girl. But the words stay bottled up, because there’s no way I can tell her that. Not yet. The last thing I need to do is risk screwing this up. She wants slow and steady, so I’ll give her slow and steady. Even if my pulse is anything but that.
“Why’d you want to come out here tonight?” she asks.
Because I love you. “Because I’m crazy about you,” I say. “And with everything that’s happened lately, I wanted to tell you that I’m crazy about you. Alone. Away from parents and work and school crap.”
She smiles. “Crazy is good. I like crazy.” She looks out at the water through the windshield. “We’ve come a