Pushing the Limits (Pushing the Limits #1)

Pushing the Limits (Pushing the Limits #1) Page 7

I sipped the beer. “But we do eat cookie dough and watch reality TV.”

Lila stumbled before narrowing her eyes at me. “Exactly. We do that to take them off guard.”

The warm fuzzy feeling that helped take the edge off also slowed the thought process. I ran through what she said twice. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

She waved her hand around like she was going to explain. Her hand kept moving, but her mouth stayed shut. Finally she dropped her hand and took another drink. “I’ve got no clue. Let’s dance, birthday girl.”

We threw our empty cups in the garbage and wove through the crowd to the source of the pumping music. Music … dancing … Luke had said I needed to find him. I opened my mouth to tell Lila when she abruptly stopped. “I’ve gotta pee.” She took a sharp left and closed the bathroom door behind her.

I leaned my right shoulder against it and listened for dry heaves. Nope, she was definitely peeing.

Pain shot down my left arm when someone ran into me and kept walking. I glanced over my shoulder. “Watch it!”

A girl with long black hair, dressed in black from head to toe and sporting a nose ring, stepped toward me. She stood close enough that I could count her eyelashes over her bloodshot eyes.

“Get out of my way and there wouldn’t be a problem.”

Okay. I was a complete wuss. I’d never gotten into a fistfight in my life. Did anything to avoid people yelling at me. Worried at night that I may have offended someone. So when this biker-looking chick stood there with her arms stretched out wide, waiting for my witty comeback or me to throw a punch, I considered puking.

“Back off, Beth,” a deep, husky voice called out behind me. Crap. I knew that voice.

Biker Beth’s gaze settled right behind my shoulder. “She yelled at me.”

“You ran into her first.” Noah Hutchins stood beside me. His biceps touched my shoulder.

The corners of her mouth stretched up. “You didn’t tell me you were fucking Echo Emerson.”

“Oh, God,” I moaned. She knew me—and she thought I was doing “it” with him. The room tilted and the warm fuzzy feeling I loved faded. Happy birthday to me.

“She’s my tutor.”

I leaned against the wall and wished everything would stop moving.

“Whatever. I’ll see you outside when you’re done studying.” Biker chick Beth waggled her eyebrows and walked away.

Fantastic. Another rumor to worry about. I needed to get away from him. Noah Hutchins meant nothing but bad news. First he made fun of me. Then he saw my scars. Then he destroyed my hopes of fixing Aires’ car. Then he made people think we were doing “it.”

I tried the doorknob to the bathroom, hoping to join Lila in there, but it didn’t budge. Locked doors were in direct violation of the buddy system. Screw it. I pushed off the wall and stumbled to the back door. Air. I needed lots of air.

I inhaled deeply the moment I stepped out onto the patio. The cold air burned my lungs and immediately nipped at the exposed skin on my neck and face. I heard laughter and voices in the darkness beyond the patio line. Probably the stoners smoking their crap.

“Do you have some sort of issue with jackets?”

Come freaking on. Why couldn’t I get rid of him? I spun around and nearly ran into Noah. Depth perception and beer obviously weren’t related. “Are you determined to ruin my life?” Shut up, Echo. “I mean, do you have nothing else to do but destroy me?” That’s enough. You can stop anytime now. “Did you come to this party to tell everyone about my scars?” And I officially became the after-school special on why teenagers shouldn’t drink.

I stared into his eyes and waited for his response. Neither one of us moved. Dear God, Lila and Natalie were right. He was hot. How could I have missed a body built like this? His unzipped jacket exposed his T-shirt, so tight I could see the curve of his muscles. And those dark brown eyes …

Noah straightened his head and coolly responded, “No.”

A cold wind swept across the patio, causing me to shiver. Noah shrugged off his black leather jacket and tossed it around my shoulders. “How are you going to tutor me if you get fucking pneumonia?”

I cocked an eyebrow. What an odd combination of romantic gesture and horribly crude wording. I clutched his jacket, resisting the urge to close my eyes when a sweet, musky scent surrounded me. My slow mind turned one wheel. “That’s twice you brought up tutoring.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets. His hair fell into his eyes, blocking my new favorite view. “Nice to know that your mind still works when you’re fucked up.”

“You use that word a lot.” I swayed. Maybe I didn’t need space. I needed a wall. I stumbled and leaned my back against the cold brick. A small mutinous part of my brain chanted “buddy system” over and over again. Yeah, I’ll get on it—in a few.

Noah followed and stopped less than an inch in front of me. So close, the heat from his body enveloped every inch of mine.

“What word?”

“The f one.” Wow. He stood closer to me than Luke had earlier. Close enough that, if he wanted to, he could kiss me.

His dark eyes searched mine and then moved down to inspect the rest of my body. I should tell him to stop or make a sarcastic comment or at least feel degraded, but none of that happened. Not until his lips turned up.

“Meet your approval?” I asked sarcastically.

He laughed. “Yes.” I liked his deep laugh. It tickled my insides.

“You’re high.” Because no one in their right mind would find me attractive. Especially when that person had seen the infamous scars.

“Not yet, but I’m planning on it. Want to come?”

I didn’t need full use of my brain for this answer. “No. I like my brain cells. I find they come in handy when I … oh, I don’t know … think.”

His wicked grin made me smile. Not my fake smile—my real one.

“Funny.” In a lightning-fast move, he placed both of his hands on the brick wall, caging me with his body. He leaned toward me and my heart shifted into a gear I didn’t know existed. His warm breath caressed my neck, melting my frozen skin. I tilted my head, waiting for the solid warmth of his body on mine. I could see his eyes again and those dark orbs screamed hunger. “I heard a rumor.”

“What’s that?” I struggled to get out.

“It’s your birthday.”

Terrified speaking would break the spell, I licked my suddenly dry lips and nodded.

“Happy birthday.” Noah drew his lips closer to mine; that sweet musky smell overwhelmed my senses. I could almost taste his lips when he unexpectedly took a step back, inhaling deeply. The cold air slapped me into the land of the sober.

He ran a hand over his face before heading toward the tree line. “See you soon, Echo Emerson.”

“Wait.” I began to pull off his jacket. “You forgot this.”

“Keep it,” he said without looking back. “I’ll get it from you on Monday. When we discuss tutoring.”

And Noah Hutchins—girl-using stoner boy and jacket-loaning savior—faded into the shadows.

NOAH

“What I don’t get is why you gave her your jacket.” Beth’s head and hair dangled off the mattress. She took a hit off the joint and passed it to Isaiah.

“Because she was cold.” I slouched so far back into the couch that if I relaxed any further it might open up and consume me. I chuckled. This was good shit.

After my run-in with Echo, I bought some pot, gathered Beth and Isaiah from the woods behind Michael Blair’s house and herded us back to Shirley and Dale’s. I couldn’t depend upon either one of them to stay sober enough to drive me home, and I intended to get fucked up beyond belief.

According to my social worker’s file, Isaiah, another foster kid, and I slept in bedrooms upstairs. In reality, this frozen hellhole, more cement block than basement, was where the three of us lived. We took turns sleeping on the old king-size mattress and couch we’d found at Goodwill. We let Beth have the bed upstairs, but when her aunt Shirley and uncle Dale fought, which was most of the time, she shared the mattress with Isaiah while I slept on the couch.

Besides my brothers, Isaiah and Beth were the only people I considered family. I’d met them when Keesha placed me at Shirley and Dale’s the day after my junior year ended. Child Protective Services had placed Isaiah here his freshman year. It was more like a boardinghouse than a home.

Shirley and Dale became foster parents for the money. They ignored us. We ignored them. Beth’s aunt and uncle were okay people, though they had some anger issues. At least they saved their anger for each other. Beth’s mother and boyfriend of the week, on the other hand, liked to take their anger out on Beth, so she stayed here. Keesha remained unaware of this arrangement.

Beth flipped so she could see me straight. “For real. Are you doing her?”

“No.” But after standing so damn close to her, I couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility of her warm body under mine. I wished I could blame it on the pot, but I couldn’t. I had been as sober as the day of a court-ordered drug test standing next to her on that patio. Her silky red hair had glimmered in the moonlight, those green eyes looked up at me like I was some sort of answer, and, damn, she smelled like cinnamon and sugar fresh out of the oven. I rubbed my head and sighed. What was wrong with me?

Ever since that day at the library, I couldn’t get Echo Emerson out of my head. Even when I visited my brothers, I thought of her and that rocking foot.

She plagued me for several reasons. First, as much as I hated to admit it, I needed the tutoring. If I intended to get my brothers back, I needed to graduate high school, on time, with a job a hell of a lot better than cooking burgers. I’d missed enough class that I was behind and someone who attended class daily could help me catch up.

“Here. There ain’t much left, but give it a try.” Isaiah sat on the floor between the bed and the couch. He passed me the joint.

I took the last hit and held the smoke until my nostrils and lungs burned. And then there were the reasons that confused me. I exhaled. “Tell me about her.”

“Who?” Beth stared at the floor.

“Echo.” What crackhead names their kid Echo? I knew her, yet I didn’t. I only pursued girls who showed an easy interest in me.

Isaiah closed his eyes and rested his head against the couch. He kept his hair buzzed close to his scalp. His ears were pierced multiple times and tattoos ran the length of his arms. “She’s out of your league.”

Beth giggled. “That’s because she turned you down flat freshman year. Isaiah thought he could date up and asked a sophomore out. Little did he know Ms. Perfect had been dating King Luke for a year.”

Isaiah’s lips twitched. “I seem to remember Luke switching lab partners behind your back so he could sit next to her.”

Beth’s eyes narrowed. “Dick.”

“Focus for me. Echo? Not your pathetic lives.” Like an old married couple, the two of them enjoyed bickering. Isaiah and Beth were a year behind me, but the age difference never bothered us.