myself. His fingers return to the hair at the side of my cheek, brushing back strands that haven’t moved, curling his fingers around my ear again.
“That’s good because I’d be sorry I kissed you if you were involved with him.”
I snort. “You’re already sorry you kissed me,” I clarify for him.
“I’m not sorry,” he says, his voice dipping to just above a whisper, and I swallow. We are definitely standing closer to one another. My breasts brush against his chest, my nipples erect and possibly showing through the wet weight of his sweatshirt.
“You’re not?” I choke out, and he shakes his head slowly side to side. “What about that girl at the Tavern?” Yeah, I remember the trussed-up, dark-haired raven.
“Sami?” he questions. “She’s no one.”
Well, I certainly feel sorry for her then.
“Poor woman. Does she know that’s how you feel?” My words turn bitter on behalf of a sisterhood with the woman who doesn’t know she’s not worth anything to him. I know the feeling.
“How’s this getting all turned around on me?”
“Because someday, that woman’s going to want things from you, and all you’ve done is lead her on. Someday, she’s going to have feelings for you and find you don’t feel the same. And someday, she’s going to want a someday where the future is planned, and she’s . . . she’s the one you didn’t pick.”
Someday turns into the one day you find out you aren’t enough.
I’m all worked up, and I don’t know why I’m defending her when it feels like I’m actually speaking about me.
I push at his shoulders, making him unsteady with the effort. His eyes widen in surprise, and I bend down to grab a box and lift it, shoving it at his abdomen. He continues to stare, stunned by my behavior.
Here’s to someday, I want to scream, but I don’t. I reach for the second box, then walk to the garage entrance. It’s still pouring, but I stalk to his truck, fumble as I open the driver’s door since it’s the closest, and slip the box across the seat. Jess follows me, and I step back, prepared to walk away.
So away.
He sets his box on the seat and turns on me, his back to the open truck door.
“What just happened in there?” he yells over the rain.
“I get it, okay? I’m not good enough. Not for you. Not for your daughter.” Even though he just asked for my help, he doesn’t really want me. I’m too far into my rant, so I add one more thing. “And don’t apologize for kissing me. It wasn’t that great.”
“Not good enough?” He blinks through the rain covering his face. “Woman, you’re the one too good for us. You’re going to leave. Go back to your big city job and some pricy condo, and I’m going to be left explaining to Katie where you went.”
I glare at him, and his eyes land on mine.
“And as for not great, then how about this?” His hands slip to my jaw once again, and he tugs me to him, his mouth crashing against mine like the thunder clapping overhead. It’s teeth and tongue and lightning strikes as I lean against him while he presses me into the side of his truck. Water streams over us, and all I care about are his lips on mine. I clutch at his wet T-shirt as he holds my face in his palms. His mouth moves, directing mine to follow. Take him. Give to him. Our tongues meet and lash, then draw back and reconnect. It’s a war of wills and desire for connection. Too soon, he slows and pulls away.
“You’re a pain in my ass,” he mutters before crushing my mouth one more time and leaving me stunned. “Get out of the rain,” he says, stepping back toward his truck and waiting for me to run to the house. As I reach the porch, his engine roars, and I turn around to see the wipers flick across the windshield. He’s watching me watch him.
I don’t know what just happened here, but I pray lightning strikes twice, and it happens again.
Rule 8
Thank you is more than two words.
[Jess]
I still can’t believe she agreed to this. It isn’t like Emily can teach Katie an entire language in a few days. I just want her here when I introduce the idea, or rather, as Emily introduces her idea to my daughter. It’s all a huge risk because I don’t want my daughter to have a setback