Chapter 8 #2
What had started as a joke has now spiraled out of my control.
Her admission steals my breath away. Reese feels a connection with me.
With me. She doesn’t need to find him. I’m sitting right next to her.
My eyes trail over her face, a slow, leisurely perusal, wishing it could be my fingers instead.
I shift closer, my eyes locked on her lips.
“Trust me, I know how crazy it sounds—” Her eyes pop open and she jerks back into the window. “Personal space, much? If you want some of the trail mix, just ask.” Picking up the snack, she whacks it against my chest and pushes me away.
That’s not what I’m craving, but I take it anyway.
“So?” She practically bounces in her seat. “Did it sound familiar?”
“No.”
“Oh. I was sure—”
“No.”
She shrugs and happily returns to her book.
Grumbling, I munch angrily, mashing each nut into dust as I wait for the last haze of attraction to fizzle. Of course it’s not gone completely. Nope. It’s like a tiger stalking its prey, waiting for the next opportunity to pounce.
I’m overjoyed when we are able to get off at the next stop, and I practically race from the bus, breathing in fresh air and enjoying a brisk walk around the parking lot to ease the tension in my chest. Hopefully, the five minutes of space will reset time to when everything was normal between us.
I’m not so lucky.
As soon as I plop down in my seat, I notice she’s applying a layer of the new lip gloss she purchased at the gas station. Torn cardboard packaging remnants with cotton candy designs are sprinkled on her lap.
I swear God is testing me.
“What happened to you?” she demands. Shaking her head, she screws on the cap. “You took off without saying anything. I didn’t know where you were.”
“I didn’t know I was supposed to check in with you,” I bite back, my nerves still taut as before.
“Wow, someone is a cranky pants,” she mocks and tosses her new gloss in her bag.
“I’m tired. It’s after two in the morning.”
“Then take a nap. Don’t bite my head off for caring.”
My head whips to face her, not enjoying my predatory tiger purring in satisfaction.
She rolls her eyes and tucks her earbuds in, ready to return to her book.
Meanwhile, I’m being tortured. Every little chuckle she makes grates on my nerves. She saves a little smirk so that I know when Austin’s chapter rolls around again, and it suddenly feels unreasonable that some imaginary guy I made up is getting all my credit.
With a growl, I pull out her right earbud and hold it hostage in my fist.
“Hey. What is with you?”
“I’m Austin Davis,” I blurt out, and the heavy weight of my secret lifts from my chest.
Her high-pitched, delirious cackle echoes in the quiet space, and a few other passengers mutter their complaints. With deep wheezy laughs, she holds the side of her stomach, gasping for air.
My back stiffens. It’s impossible to not take her obnoxious reaction personally. Is it so farfetched for her to believe I’m the man behind the voice?
“That’s the silliest thing I’ve heard. Are you going to suggest Mr. Sherman next?”
“No, because I’m Austin,” I press.
Dipping to one side, she leans on the window for support, peals of laughter rolling through her. “Stop. You’re killing me.”
“Why do you think his voice sounds so familiar?”
“Please. Like you’d know anything about recording an audiobook. You barely read.”
Beyond my limit, I cup her jaw and lean in to prove my point. She freezes when my mouth brushes her earlobe, and I repeat the part of the book we had listened to together. “I’m tired of running from my feelings—running from you. You’re everything I’ve been searching for, Reese.”
“Annie,” she whispers, her voice so low I almost miss it. “Her name is Annie.”
I pull back slowly so that the bristles of my beard glide across her jaw. I stop when my mouth is an inch away.
Wide eyed, she holds my stare, the truth of my declaration in her eyes. But it’s not enough. I want to hear her say it.
“Do you believe me now?” The rumble in my throat isn’t for show.
She nods once, unable to do more.
“Admit it. Out loud.”
Tell me you feel that connection with me.
My thumb traces the line of her jaw—a big mistake.
I shouldn’t have touched her, because now that I have, my fingers ache for more.
To trace the lines of her face and down the smooth skin of her neck.
With each heave of my chest, another thread of self-control snaps free until I can’t think of any reason why I should stop.
The cotton candy gloss on her lips calls my name.
“Just one. Please . . . please . . .” I whisper, begging on repeat until my lips press gently into hers.
I shudder at the sizzle of contact that burns between us.
It’s only the barest of kisses, but it’s more than I’ve ever felt with any other girl I’ve dated.
She’s the first spark I’ve experienced, my bright burning flame which beckons me closer.
I can’t help but test the limits and press into the heat, praying I don’t get burned.
I want more.
I want her.
But more than that, I want her to want me too. For her to know this isn’t Austin, an imaginary person, but the man she’s known her whole life.
Our lips still cling together as we break apart, almost refusing to be separated. Her blonde lashes rest on her cheeks, her lips slightly parted. Our breaths mingle together, her rapid puffs of air fanning my face as I wait.
“Reese . . .” Her name is like a contented sigh I’ve been holding, bubbling up through my lips.
Then as if the spell over her breaks, her silver eyes flutter open, almost confused. She presses her trembling fingertips to her mouth as her eyebrows slant over her nose. With both hands she shoves me back in my seat, her eyes twinkling in fury.
“Don’t kiss me again.”
The slap of rejection hurts worse than her physical shove, my mind reeling. I thought she liked me.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” My snarky response is automatic. I straighten out my jacket with two quick jerks as if I could fix my pride.
We both turn away from each other, mirrored images with our arms crossed and matching scowls. Hours pass without us talking, and I’m back to googling rentals while she watches RV repair videos.
The longer I sit there, the more I stew.
It’s what I thought would happen. What little progress I had made in repairing our friendship had snapped by my impatience.
So, we are back at square one—only this time my mouth smells of cotton candy.
I wish I regretted it, but I don’t. I thought—had hoped—for a moment, there was something between us.
Obviously not.
If I were a smarter man, I’d be camping out under the stars without a care in the world right now.
But no, I had to follow my gut and chase after her.
Then my stupid gut told me to kiss her. Are my instincts broken?
Or maybe I just need a change of scenery, open some doors and see what other opportunities lie beyond the mountains of Rocosa.
Looking upward, I say a little prayer for guidance, because man, I’m screwing everything up on my own. A little direction would be nice.
While I question my life choices, I stifle another yawn, fighting the seductive call of sleep the best I can. My coffee cup is empty, and between the two of us, all the chocolate M&Ms have been gobbled out of the trail mix. My bleary eyes droop low, desperate for sleep.
I might not make it much longer, and I sneak a glance at Reese to see how she is faring.
At some point, she must have nodded off, her chin slowly drooping forward. My hand snakes out to catch her before she tumbles out of her seat. Like a rag doll, I position her back into place, and she slumps and slides sideways against the leather until her head bumps my arm.
Ah, crap.
Yes, I’m still furious with her . . . but right now?
She’s angelic, so peaceful with her eyes closed.
Feeling brave, I allow myself one sniff of her hair, savoring the sweetness with hints of floral shampoo.
It’s light and fresh, like a spring meadow full of wildflowers.
A smell that is so perfectly Reese that I greedily inhale it again before I catch myself.
That’s it. That’s the last one I’ll allow myself.
Before she can wake and punch me in the face, I try to scoot her limp body back in her seat. But she groans in her sleep, and her arm whips around me, curling tight around my waist as she cuddles into my side fully.
Ah, double crap.
An hour later and my left arm is numb, but I don’t care. I’m not moving an inch until Reese wakes up, even if we miss our stop and ride this bus straight through to Dallas. This is the closest to a hug she’ll ever give me now.
So, I rest my cheek on top of her head, savoring this rare moment while it lasts. Because I’m pretty sure she’s going to murder me when she wakes up.