Want some company?
Sure.
I’m still dressed in my date outfit because I figure it can’t hurt for Jared to see me like this, right?
And I’m rewarded when he answers the door and his gaze flickers down my body, catching on the way my shirt clings to my chest, before he forcibly drags his eyes back up to my face like they’re being pulled by a winch.
The look leaves me a little breathless, to be honest.
“Hey,” he says, his voice rougher than usual, taking a step back to let me in.
“Hey.” I head straight for his couch.
“How was your date?” he asks.
My heart does a flip as my brain overinterprets the tightness in his voice as he says those words.
Has he worked out the implications of one of us being in a relationship? That we wouldn’t spend as much time hanging out together? Surely he values our friendship as much as I do. Otherwise, he wouldn’t react like this, right?
It’s possible I’m extracting too much meaning from four words.
“Well, I’m home by nine p.m., by myself, so that should tell you everything you need to know about my date.” I flop down on the couch. “What are we watching?”
Jared comes and sits next to me. But instead of settling into his usual corner, he sits closer than normal. Close enough that I can smell his body wash, something clean and crisp that makes me want to lean in.
He doesn’t reach for the remote to start the show. Instead, he turns to face me.
“Did he treat you okay?” He’s studying me like my answer really matters to him.
I shrug. “He was okay. Nice guy. But I could tell he’s not really into the whole Frankenstein vibe I’ve got going on.”
Jared goes completely still. “Did he say that to you?” His voice is tight.
“No. Of course not. That would make him the monster. No, his gaze just kept on flicking to my scars like they were a piece of spinach stuck in someone’s teeth during a job interview.”
Jared shifts closer, his knee pressing against mine. His forehead is rumpled adorably in concern in a way that makes me want to reassure him.
“It’s fine. He was seriously a nice guy. But there just wasn’t anything more there, you know?”
“Yes, I know what that’s like,” he says, finally ripping his stare away from me and reaching for the remote.
“So it looks like my quest to find someone who will actually want to have sex with me continues,” I say.
Jared freezes, swiveling back to face me. “What are you talking about?”
The confusion on his face sends a spike of irritation through me, and the words spill from my mouth without me having a chance to filter them. “Oh, come on, Jared. You don’t have to tiptoe around my feelings. You’re the only random guy I’ve managed to hook up with since my accident, and that required Halloween costumes and a whole lot of makeup.
“You haven’t wanted me again since you saw me in full daylight. It’s okay. I’m not trying to make you feel guilty, I’m just stating a fact. Guys don’t want to hook up with me now because of what I look like.”
Jared’s face goes through a series of expressions so fast I can’t catch them all. Disbelief. Anger. Something that looks almost like pain. His whole body is tense, practically vibrating with some emotion I can’t name. The intensity in his eyes makes my breath catch.
“You honestly think—” His voice is rough, and he breaks off, running a hand through his hair roughly.
Then he’s crowding in my space, close enough that I can see his pulse hammering in his throat before he yanks me forward and kisses me like he’s drowning and I’m air.
And holy god, I’ve never had a kiss like it.
I’ve never had someone kiss me like I’m the only thing in the universe that matters, like the entire time-space continuum will end if we don’t mesh our lips together. His mouth crashes into mine with enough force to push me back into the couch cushions. It’s like he’s trying to steal my breath, trying to steal my soul from me.
