15. RAE
15
I ’ve never been in love.
The only form of love I’ve known is what my parents gave me, like a warm safety blanket, cradling me throughout the world. When that disappeared overnight, I never wanted anything else. Convinced that my heart couldn’t find and lose that again without completely shattering in my hands, I settled for the love of my family, knowing I can never handle more.
But the way my body rides the melody of the music with Jensen’s arms wrapped around me, it reminds me of that safe feeling. My ear rests against his chest as his ribcage slowly but steadily moves up and down with each breath. His heart beats against my temple, the sound soothing me into a sleepy state.
“This is nice. I could stay like this forever.”
I feel his lips on my hair, a soft moan going through my body.
“Me too, babe.”
It opens a can of feelings I’ve never felt before. A toxic combination between an exciting rush and a completely Zen and mellow state. Like a drug, taking me into a different state of being.
The ultimate high.
He grabs me a little tighter, breathing me in as if he’s trying to suck up the moment like I am before his grip loosens.
“We should probably call it a night, babe.”
The tone in his voice seems torn, like he doesn’t really want to end this moment, but nonetheless, his words hit me like a cold shower. They knock me off my pink cloud as disappointment hits my body. But today, the rebel inside of me has seen life after five years, and she isn’t ready to get back in her cage.
“Why?” My voice is soft but clear when I look up into his hypnotizing eyes.
The reflection of the light strobe dances around the blackness of his pupils, peering down at me with a troubled gaze.
A week ago I wouldn’t even question him, reasons enough to make the answer clear as day. Yet tonight I can’t find any that make sense.
His roughened hand reaches up, stroking my cheek with the backs of his fingers. He keeps his eyes locked with mine with a brooding look that burns right through me. A tendril of panic seizes my chest, fearing what is going through his mind. But my chin stays in the air, fueled by my level of alcohol, because I don’t see why we can’t give in to this undeniable chemistry we have.
We are no longer working together, he made it perfectly clear his relationship, or lack thereof, is fake as fuck, and frankly, my intoxicated mind just wants to fucking kiss him.
Even if it’s just for tonight.
When heat rises to my cheeks, it feels impossible to hold his gaze, but finally, his withdrawn look softens. He places two fingers under my chin, forcing me to look up at him as his light blue eyes pin me down with urgency.
The desire quickly becomes palpable, and when his attention lowers to my lips, I hold my breath, waiting for his lips to cover mine. His hand cups my cheek as he leans in, and I can feel his whiskey breath over my face as he brushes my nose with his. Our lips are only an inch away, and patiently yet eagerly, I wait for him to close the distance.
To finally feel his soft lips against mine, feeding the hunger that’s become excruciating over the last hour.
“I really want to kiss you.” His thumb softly strokes my lower lip in a scorching way, and I hopefully stay quiet. “But I don’t want TMZ to write anything else about us.”
Oh.
That feeling of safety I just experienced vanishes into thin air, like someone literally knocks it out of my chest. He’s right, and I should be pleased he’s being thoughtful about this. That he’s trying to keep our heads out of the tabloids. But it still feels like rejection.
I suck in a deep breath before I let go of his body.
“Yeah.” I stiffly push a strand of my hair behind my ear, looking at the hardwood floor, then grab my necklace to keep my hands busy. “Yeah, you’re right. We should call it a night.”
Abruptly, he takes a step back, leaving me standing there. Something changes in his stance when he squares his shoulders, his cocky grin back in place, reminding me of the Jensen I’ve known for the last few years.
The asshole.
“With my luck, it won’t take long before someone snaps a picture of me. Of us ,” he explains, rubbing his neck. “We’ll create a shitstorm if we are seen together again.”
My body tenses as he emphasizes “us” while his eyes wander around the bar with caution. Letting my head hang for just a second, I close my eyes as I rub my forehead to hide from the humiliation that surges through my body.
Three minutes ago, I felt safe, allowing myself to give in to the lust Jensen sparks inside me. And now, I’m standing here in front of him as he talks about me like I’m his dirty secret.
“Right.” I nod, plastering a composed smile on my face, as I brush his words away. “Of course. You’re right. Definitely don’t want that.”
There’s something else I want.
I want to smack the presumptuous look off his face, calling him out on the fact that once again he’s putting us in the position to create a shitstorm anyway. But embarrassed enough as it is, I decide it’s not worth my energy.
I step back, giving him a clumsy wave, now feeling conscious of everything I do. “Okay, well. Goodnight.”
Quickly, I turn around, determined to disappear as fast as possible, walking like my feet are on fire, but I’m putting on a brave face. I want him to call me back. To tell me he’s making a mistake. To kiss me senseless, erasing the world around us.
But I know I shouldn’t.
There are so many reasons why I shouldn’t get involved with Jared James Jensen, even if it’s just for a night.
He’s bad news. If I’d allow myself to get feelings for anyone again, it definitely shouldn’t be Jensen. It should be someone loving, caring, loyal, smart. Someone who makes me laugh, and who gives me a fluttering feeling in my stomach.
Yeah, that definitely isn’t Jensen.