Not You It's Me (Boston Love #1) - Julie Johnson Page 0,20
“Men are rat bastards. Love doesn’t exist — not for me, anyway. And I’m done trying. I’m going to get a dozen or so cats, several high-quality vibrators, enough batteries to last the next decade, and then call it a day.”
Chrissy and Mark glance at each other, lock eyes, and, after a few seconds, burst into loud, cackling, simultaneous laughter.
“I’m serious,” I grumble.
It doesn’t matter. Neither of them is listening.
***
It’s only later, long after Chrissy and Mark have tucked me in on their couch with a pile of blankets and retreated to their bedroom, that I allow myself to drop my man-hating facade and replay the final moments I shared with Chase in the rain — lingering over all the details I’d neglected to share with my friends when they asked about it, for reasons I wasn’t sure I could explain.
His lips are on mine — consuming me — and I feel wanton, reckless, standing here kissing a total stranger. It doesn’t make a damn bit of difference, though. I couldn’t stop kissing him at this moment even if someone put a gun to my head and ordered me to walk away.
My hands find his shoulders, sliding against the wet fabric of his t-shirt, and as soon as he feels the light touch of my fingers against him, his careful control seems to slip. A sound rattles in his chest, as though his restraint is being sorely tested, and his hands tighten around me, so I’m plastered against him. His grip is so fierce, it’s almost painful, but in the best way possible.
For a few moments, we’re lost.
In the moment, in the rain, in each other.
I vaguely register the sound of a door opening nearby, but I for one have so little interest in the world outside his lips, Boston could sink into the damn ocean and I’d barely bat an eye.
Apparently, he doesn’t feel the same, because suddenly he tears his mouth from mine and steps backward, creating a careful distance between us.
“Gemma,” he says again in that intense way that makes my name alone hold more weight than a thousand pointless words from careless lips.
I just stare at him, breathless. Waiting for him to speak.
For a long moment, there’s silence. When he finally shatters it, his voice is halting.
“I’m sorry.”
My eyebrows lift in confusion. “What are you sorry for?”
“Kissing you.”
I ignore the flash of hurt that jolts through me. “Don’t ever apologize to a girl for kissing her,” I say in a light voice, echoing his earlier words in the car, hoping to make him laugh.
His lips twitch a little, but his eyes are serious as he stares searchingly at my face. Before I can say another word, he leans forward and presses a fleeting kiss to the tip of my nose. Then, he turns and walks away.
I watch as he climbs back into the car and the door slams closed behind him.
And for a long time after his taillights have disappeared down the street, I stand frozen on the steps in the rain, wondering what the hell just happened.
Chapter Eight
Miss Mystery
The sound of insistent buzzing wakes me from a deep sleep. I groan as I roll over and fumble blindly for my phone, my fingers skidding along the coffee table in the dark apartment. My eyes are still fused shut when I finally pull it beneath the blanket and lift the speaker to my ear.
“Hello?” I mumble groggily.
“Gemma! What the hell is going on?!” Shelby’s voice blasts through the receiver.
“What time is it?” I groan.
“5:30.”
A moan of displeasure rumbles from my mouth.
“Never mind that!” she continues. “I was about to head out on my run when I saw it. Gemma, how could you not tell me?”
“Shelbs, my brain isn’t awake yet. I have no freaking clue what you’re talking about.”
“The kiss! The Chase-Freaking-Croft kiss!”
My eyes snap open and all the moisture evaporates from my mouth in an instant. “What did you just say?”
“Gemma, it’s all over the internet. There are, like, a million YouTube videos and the local news channels are eating it up! I’d bet my left tit that by noon, it’ll hit the national circuit, if it hasn’t already.”
I sit up so fast, my blankets go flying in a blur of fabric.
“They’re calling you Chase’s Cinderella!” Shelby squeals happily. “You’re famous!”
Dread sinks into my stomach like a stone. “Do they know who I am?”
“Well, I don’t think they have your name yet, but they definitely have your picture.”