Shut Out

Chapter twenty-three

"Nice job leading the girls the other night."

I was crouched down on the floor of the Reference section, alphabetizing the encyclopedias, when I heard Cash's voice behind me. Startled, I jumped and smacked the top of my head against the shelf with a loud thwack.

"Augh," I groaned.

"Oh, shit. Lissa, are you okay?" He knelt down and turned me to face him, his eyebrows pinched over concerned green eyes that made me forget the throbbing pain in my skull — but only for a second. "Do you need me to get an ice pack or something?"

"No, it's fine, but you have got to stop sneaking up on me," I said through clenched teeth. "God, that hurt."

"I'm so sorry," Cash said. Before I could stop him, he'd reached out and cupped a hand over the back of my head, his fingers gently stroking the place where my skull had collided with the wooden shelf. "That was an accident."

Sure it was, I wanted to snap. But of course what came out of my mouth was completely different. "It's all right." I cleared my throat. "Did you need something, Cash?"

He let out a small chuckle. "Not really. It doesn't matter."

"Glad to know my pain is in vain."

"Well, at least you're a poet. That's some consolation."

I rolled my eyes at him and he grinned. "So," he said, still stroking my head in gentle, soothing motions, "how was your weekend?"

"It was all right — until a bunch of idiot boys decided to crash the slumber party I was attending."

"Damn, what a shame," Cash said innocently.

"Uh-huh… How was yours?"

"Pretty good… except for the part where I got kicked off Kelsey's lawn. Speaking of which, does she really have a Rottweiler trained to attack on command?"

I couldn't help but smile at that. Kelsey did have a Rottweiler — Gidget — but from what I'd witnessed at her house on Saturday, Gidget was a lazy, fat dog who barely left her spot on the living room floor, let alone attacked people.

"Yes," I said. "Yes, she does."

"Scary."

"Yeah."

There was a short pause, and then he said, "Seriously, though. How have you been? I haven't really asked you since we went for that walk last weekend because I didn't want to upset you or anything, but… How are you? With the whole Randy thing, I mean."

"Oh." I let out a long breath. "I'm okay. I've just been avoiding him."

"I hear he wants you back."

"He'll have to get over it."

Cash smiled. "I take it you're not so interested in rekindling the romance."

"Definitely not," I said. "Don't get me wrong — I miss him sometimes, the good things about him, anyway, but not enough to get back together with him. I can't trust him anymore."

"Well, I'm glad," Cash said. Then he quickly added, "Not that you can't trust him. I'm sorry about that. I'm just… I'm glad you're not getting back with him."

"Why?" I asked slowly, remembering the awkwardness at the lunch table last week when I'd stormed away, how he'd said he'd only consider dating someone special. Before then, I'd dared to hope that his support, his encouragement for me to stay away from Randy, had been a little selfish on his part. That maybe he liked me. That sour moment at the lunch table had squashed that hope, but maybe…

"Because." Cash's fingers stilled, resting lightly against the back of my head, which didn't hurt anymore. He looked down at me for a long second before continuing. "Because I want to see you with someone better than him. Someone who will see how lucky they are to have you."

I bit my lip, nervous but determined to ask my next question. "Do you happen to have someone particular in mind, Cash?"

"Maybe."

We stared at each other for a long, long time. Then Cash's hand slid down from my head to the back of my neck, and he gently pulled me toward him. It was like a slow-motion scene in

a movie. I had plenty of time to turn my head, to jerk away, to say "Stop," but I didn't move, didn't speak, didn't breathe. Instead, I watched his head lower toward mine and felt his free hand fall onto my knee. My eyes shut, and I managed a quick, anxious gasp of air.

And then Cash Sterling kissed me.

My heart raced as Cash's lips moved over mine. I opened my mouth to his as my arms wrapped around his neck. His hand slid up my thigh and came to rest on my hip. I felt his finger curl into the belt loop of my jeans, tugging me a little closer to him. I moved forward willingly, eagerly, needing to be next to him, to touch him.

My body was riddled with electric shocks as his kisses grew more intense. My fingers grasped at his short brown hair, pulling him to me. I'd never felt like this, like I wanted to climb into another person's skin. Like I wanted every inch of him to touch every inch of me, to twine myself around him and never let go. I'd never kissed anyone this way.

Not even Randy.

I was elated. He'd kissed me. Again. He did still like me. He must have realized what a mistake he'd made by never calling me.

My skin was on fire as we pressed closer to each other. I found myself climbing into Cash's lap, straddling his hips as his hands slid to the small of my back, pulling me toward him.

"Oh my God, are you kidding me?"

Cash's mouth jerked away from mine as Jenna's voice ripped through the heated silence. It took me a minute to catch my breath, but I could already feel my cheeks burning, realizing the

delicate position I'd gotten myself into. I scurried out of Cash's lap, straightening my slightly twisted T-shirt and running my fingers through my hair.

"Nice, Lissa," she snapped when I tentatively looked up at her. "Didn't I warn you about this?"

"I'll get back to work," I said, stumbling to my feet. Cash did the same.

"Yes, please do," Jenna said. "There's a little girl here who needs help using the card catalog. Why don't you do that and let Cash finish with the encyclopedias. Perhaps you two shouldn't work together from now on, if you'll be distracting each other."

"M-maybe," I stammered. "I'll go help with the, um, catalog."

Deliberately avoiding Cash's eyes, I hurried off toward the front of the library.

He caught up with me a few minutes later, though. Our paths crossed when we each came to pick up some of the books that needed to be shelved.

"Hey," he said, pointing down at the stack of books in his arms. "Looks like someone else just finished reading Lysistrata. Maybe it was one of the other strike girls."

"It could be," I said.

He smirked and went on shelving while I walked upstairs to put away some of the children's books. I'd just shelved a copy of Hop on Pop when Cash's words hit me.

The strike.

Shit.

I felt sudden tears sting at the corners of my eyes as I realized,

with a miserable jolt, that I'd just been used again. That kiss hadn't been Cash telling me he still liked me. He'd been trying to mess with me, to make me break my oath. He was using my feelings against me so that the boys would win.

I was an idiot to keep getting my hopes up.