I rolled my eyes. “Jack, you know every exercise inside and out. You don’t need me.”
“I won’t work as hard if you’re not there. I still need you to kick my ass. Come on.” He nudged my shoulder with his. “Say yes.”
I exhaled as I turned to face him. “Look, you’re doing fine on your own. You probably don’t need me, at all, even now—”
I didn’t see it coming. I didn’t feel Jack’s hand cup the back of my neck and tangle in my hair. Everything was a blur until his mouth covered mine. Jack was kissing me.Me.I’d imagined it a ton of different ways, both as a kid and especially over the past few weeks, but the reality blew my mind. My body stiffened, then I melted into him with a soft sigh. His tongue flicked the seam of my lips, making them part on a moan. Jack kissed the way he did everything else: with toe-curling passion and determination. I couldn’t remember how it felt to be kissed by someone who really wanted to kiss me, not just peck me in passing out of obligation. The want radiating off him mirrored my own. He framed my face as our lips slowed, his thumbs drifting back and forth over my cheekbones.
I’d just had the best kiss of my life, and I didn’t know what the hell do to with it.
“How about I ask you again, and you’ll actually understand what I mean?” He cradled my cheek, his blue eyes dark and focused on me. “Tell me you don’t feel this.”
“I …” I dropped my eyes to the ground. Of course, I felt it. I felt everything. But, I couldn’t give in to it. I’d already pushed things too far. If I truly gave in, it would hurt all the more when the spell wore off.
I reached up to touch his wrist. “Yes, but—”
“Well, that’s all that matters, isn’t it?” His mouth covered mine again, and I lost my resolve to fight. His lips moved softly, this time, exploring rather than only taking. I whimpered when his tongue curled with mine, taking long licks inside my mouth as if he were savoring the taste of me—and he couldn’t get enough. My professional and personal scruples evaporated into the ether when I clutched the back of his neck and pulled him closer.
“Those lips are amazing,” Jack murmured, still kissing me. “I could kiss you all night.”
We broke apart, my head falling into his chest as my frazzled brain tried to make sense of what just happened. I needed to leave before my inhibitions took us too far, although too far was five minutes ago. Now, I was somewhere between inappropriate and just plain screwed.
“I should go home.” I lifted my head, taking in the lust and want in Jack’s eyes as they seared into me. He nodded as he grazed my bottom lip with his thumb.
“It’s getting late …” I trailed off when his lips brushed my cheek. “And I should …” More kisses down my neck. Why wasn’t I stopping him? When his teeth grazed the tip of my earlobe, my limbs melted into jelly. My shaking hands pushed off the bench, my wobbling knees making me stumble.
“Um, goodnight,” I blurted before turning to sprint to my car. Being in his presence, right now, was more than I could handle. Jack grabbed my wrist, thwarting my quick escape.
“Enjoy the M&Ms.” He pulled me in for a light, but lingering peck on my lips. “I have more, but we’ll save those. I have to make sure you come back.”
I backed away, my head nodding like a bobblehead, my lips too drunk on Jack to form any words.
My legs went on autopilot until I stepped into my car and started the engine. I ran my fingers over my swollen lips.
I couldn’t do this. I wanted to. God, I wanted to so bad my toes tingled, and my fingertips pulsed. But he didn’t want me. Not really. He needed his crutch.
But how good did it feel to be needed? To be wanted? Everything about Jack was intoxicating.
Starting something with Jack would be a disaster, but I didn’t know how to stop.
21
PJ
"PJ! How's it going, sweetheart?"
Tommy, the owner of the probably only non-Starbucks or Dunkin' Donuts coffee shop in the Bronx, yelled to me as I pushed open the door. I'd been coming here since I was a kid, and it'd been my favorite place ever since. It was always homey, unassuming, and no one stared at me as I sat in the corner and drew my heart out.
"Good, Tom. Thanks." I gave him a big smile as I sauntered to the counter. "My usual, please."
"Iced coffee, black." He cocked his head to the side. "Like I'd forget, even though you don't come around as much anymore." His chin jutted to the digital sketch pad Dylan bought me for my birthday. "Finding inspiration elsewhere?" He raised a brow as he handed me the cup.
"Maybe …" I laughed to cover the twinge in my gut. I wanted to say, scream rather, that I was in love, but until my parents knew, I couldn't scream to anyone.
Tommy was a nice guy, around my father's age I guessed, although he was much shorter and stockier. And my dad still had a full head of hair, even though he’d gained a touch more gray with each passing year. Tommy also had the loosest lips in the borough, and Dad liked the coffee here, too. As big of a city as this was, my neighborhood thrived on small town gossip.
I planted myself at my usual table in the corner and scanned the room. Tommy's offered the best people watching. Even if I couldn't hear their conversations, I felt it. Lovers sneaking off, about to break up, or completely checked out on each other—the sentiments were still evident without overhearing any words. I enjoyed making up stories in my head when I reviewed the sketches later on.
The shop was still empty other than Tommy and me, so I sketched from memory. Dylan, shirtless and sound asleep on his bed. We still hadn't had sex yet, but we'd done everythingbut. Although we talked about all the reasons he was holding us back over and over again, a nagging feeling kept whispering to me that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as invested in us as I’d thought, but I’d blink that thought away as soon as it surfaced. Of course, the longer we didn't have sex, the more I considered the awful possibility. Blinking had stopped working a week ago.
