The truth from him came loud and clear. He was being genuine, and dammit, I felt myself softening towards him. His eyes were warm and inviting. His tone didn’t reflect anything other than his honesty, and my interest was piqued.
I shrugged and forced myself to look away. “You haven’t done anything except ask me to risk losing everything. Other than that,” I smiled, “nope, you’re right. It’s unwarranted.”
His eyes darkened and dropped to my lips. “I asked the first time because Mandy made it sound like you would want to do it. I asked the second time because I was testing a theory.”
“Really?”
He nodded, his gaze never leaving my lips. “Yeah. A theory.”
My chest tightened. His words were weaving a spell over me, one that I enjoyed and hated at the same time. I found myself asking, “What theory was that?”
“That it’s a rush to you.”
“What’s a rush?”
“Stealing.” His eyes lifted, pinning me in place. “Taking what isn’t yours. You love it. You get off on it, don’t you?”
I shook my head. “It’s not that.”
“It’s not?” He reached for me, and I closed my eyes, feeling his hand take hold of my jeans. One of his fingers slid through a loop on my waistband, but he didn’t do anything. He kept it there, as if anchoring me in place. I couldn’t run. I didn’t want to run, and I frowned as I realized that. He asked, “So what is it? What did I get wrong?”
Tipping my head back, I held his eyes. “It’s not the taking something that isn’t mine.”
He grinned. “Somehow I don’t believe you.”
“It’s the power knowing that I can. I can take it if I want to and no one can stop me.” A shiver wound its way up my spine, but it was the good kind. It was the delicious kind. Remembering that power
was overwhelming, beckoning me to remember what it felt like to yield it again. At the tips of my fingers, I could decide what was mine and what wasn’t. It was intoxicating. “It’s a rush.”
His thumb fell from the loop. It was pressed against my stomach, warm against my skin. The heat inside me was building again. Then he began moving his thumb, rubbing it back and forth, and I closed my eyes. My breathing deepened. One touch and I felt scorched by this guy. Then I stopped thinking. His hand curved in, and he pressed his palm to my stomach now. I was pulled closer to him. His chest was inches from mine. As my pulse quickened, I lifted a hand to push him away. I needed space, but it didn’t happen. Instead, my hand curved into his shirt and his other hand found my hip. He pulled me even closer. Our hips were touching now, a light graze against each other as we both stood there.
I wanted his touch. I wanted it in more ways than I had ever wanted Brian. My eyes opened and I realized what I was doing. I stepped away from him, breathing raggedly, but so was he.
“Shit.” His eyes raked over me.
I turned. I didn’t want him to see the evidence of his power over me. “Go to your party.”
CHAPTER THREE
Mandy came in my room Saturday evening to inform me who hooked up with whom, who broke up with whom, who fought, and who barfed. It was an amazing party. She invited me out with them that night. I declined and continued folding my clothes. When she kept quiet, I knew—the rumors had already circulated—someone must’ve seen Tray and me outside the diner.
She didn’t push it. Thank you for small favors. Instead I had to listen to her theory that Devon was cheating on her for the next thirty minutes.
“Are you serious? Devon? We’re talking about Devon?”
“Yeah.” She swung her legs around and sat up, still on my bed. “He was weird last night. I don’t know. Maybe he really did hook up with Stephanie.”
I paused, frowned, and then finished folding my shirt. “Are you going to talk to him tonight? About your hunch?”
“About Stephanie? No, but I am going to ask him if he’s cheating on me.”
“The sooner you talk to him, the sooner you’ll know what’s really going on and be back to being lovebirds again.” The idea of Mandy and Devon not together was funny to me. It wasn’t real. Those two were so lovey-dovey they made me gag the first time I saw it. The idea of Devon cheating was ridiculous. Then I glanced at her and saw the determined set of her shoulders. “Whoa. You’re serious.”
She stood and started to pace. “He’s really off and it’s getting to me, you know? He’s been like this for a while, but last night it creeped me out.”
“What’d he do?”
“He didn’t do anything, just would put his phone away as soon as I came back.” She hesitated. “Other stuff’s happened too. I don’t like it. I can’t not say anything. No way. He’s been like this for seven months. I can’t ignore it anymore.”