Chapter 13 #2
I couldn’t tell who was kissing whom, only that I never wanted it to end. I needed him. All of him. It would never be enough.
He pulled his mouth from mine, breathing heavily, and gently kissed my chin and forehead.
“Clarity, we need to stop,” he said.
What did it mean that he wanted to stop when I wanted to keep going? Were these feelings really just mine? The thought devastated me.
“You didn’t like it?” I asked.
With a groan, he captured my face and kissed me with an intensity that melted my bones. When he pulled away the second time, I didn’t have the will to protest. He’d robbed me of the ability to think.
It took me a full minute to realize I was in my seat, buckled, and that he was driving again.
At first glance, he seemed mad—deadpan expression…tight grip on the steering wheel.
Then he licked his bottom lip, briefly sucking it into his mouth.
I felt an immediate surge of desire.
Not mad then.
“What am I to you, Sam?” I asked.
He glanced at me.
“Right now? You’re my temptation. My addiction. I don’t want to take you home. I want to go to my place and keep kissing you. But I promised your mom, Clarity, and I don’t want to break her trust when she’s already threatening to move you to your grandma’s.”
It was a good thing he was keeping a level head about this because that first part made me want to go home with him, too. But he was right about the consequences. I didn’t want to risk pushing Mom too far either.
“That didn’t really answer my question,” I said as he approached our neighborhood.
He didn’t speak until he parked in his driveway and faced me.
“What are you to me? Everything you’re allowed to be until you’re old enough to make those choices for yourself.”
The vagueness of his answer annoyed me.
Grabbing my bag, I reached for my door. His shut, and he was at mine a second later. I blinked at him. That was fast.
“You’re mad,” he said.
Could he feel it, or was he just smart?
“Mad. Annoyed. Hurt. What I should probably be is embarrassed that I threw myself at a guy I really like, thinking he liked me just as much, and got a ‘you’re not old enough to decide for yourself’ response.
Move, Sam. I definitely need time to regroup and reconsider before we continue this conversation. ”
My heart ached fiercely as I stared him down, waiting for him to move.
His expression no longer looked deadpan. It looked tormented.
Good, now he knew how I felt. Confused, horny—which was new for me—and very tormented.
When he finally stepped aside, I left without a backward glance.
Crushes were hard when I didn’t talk to the guy, and apparently worse when I did.
Annoyed, I let myself into the house and tossed my stuff aside before remembering Mom.
I hurried to send a message that I’d gotten a ride home. Since tonight’s dinner, leftovers, wouldn’t take any effort, I went to my room to finish my latest book.
A knock on the door interrupted me a few pages in. I glanced at the door and debated not answering it.
With a sigh, I got up.
Sam’s miserable expression didn’t take any of the sting out of his soft rejection.
“I’ve never had a girlfriend or even liked anyone before,” he admitted. “You’re the first. I want to—”
He sniffed, and his gaze dropped to the book in my hands.
“What’s that?”
Seriously?
“A book. Hurry up and say what you need to so I can close the door.”
He stole the book from me and sniffed it.
If he thought loving the smell of paperbacks as much as I did would–
“Where did you get this?”
“From the library. You know, that place where books are.”
“When?”
“You’re annoying me again. Come back when you’re ready to talk.”
I reached for the book, but he caught my hand with his free one.
“Clarity, this is really important. When did you get this book?”
His sudden seriousness and intensity started to worry me.
“Saturday. Why? What’s wrong?”
“I need to go to the library. Stay inside, and keep the doors locked.”
“What? No way. Not after saying that.” I wasn’t stupid. The last time I was told to stay inside, I’d been bitten. “I don’t want to stay here alone.”
He hesitated a second, his expression softening as he stared at me.
“Grab your reader. You can message your mom on the way.”
Minutes later, I was in his passenger seat again. Mom acknowledged the ride home and that I was going to the library with Sam before we got there.
Sam’s gaze swept the empty parking lot as he turned off the engine. The library wasn’t a hot spot of activity on the best day, but it felt extra quiet right then.
“Don’t tell me to wait here,” I said when he glanced at me.
“Stay close to me, okay?”
I nodded, my anxiety creeping higher as he got out to open the door for me.
When we reached the main entrance, I frowned and sniffed.
“Do you smell perfume?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
He tried the door, but it was locked.
“That’s weird. Mr. Clint always leaves a sign if he has to close early for any reason.” I cupped my hands and looked through the glass. “The lights are on. He would have turned them off if he’d left.”
Sam moved me a few steps behind him and reached for the door again. With a hard jerk and a screech of splitting metal, he pulled it open.
Stunned, I stared at the mangled lock for a second.
Sam looked back at me and held out his hand. I glanced from it to the lock.
Solid proof? Yep.
Unfortunately, the fear I felt wouldn’t let me celebrate just yet. Slipping my hand into his, I let him lead us through the second set of doors.
Sam stopped walking halfway to the main desk and looked at me.
“What?” I whispered.
Then I smelled it. A pungent smell of rot.
“Stay here,” he said.
I shook my head and held on tight, too scared to let go.
He studied me, glanced at the desk, then sighed and kept going with me in tow.
The smell grew stronger with each step. I should have stayed where Sam had said. Instead, I got close enough to see the smear of red trailing off the top of the desk. Close enough to see over the desk and the flesh colored pile on the floor behind it.