She stares at it. “Thank God I wasn’t drivingthatwhen I hit you.” I see her wince slightly, turning to look at me. Her big brown eyes roam my face, voice soft as she asks, “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”
My mouth is too dry to answer right away. Every time this girl makes eye contact, I forget how to speak, move, breathe.
“I’m fine,” I manage to grunt. “Don’t worry about me.”
She presses her lips together, nodding slowly, and a strand of hair falls over her face. My fingers itch to touch it, but I reach for the door handle instead. I need to get out of this car. It feels like I’m trapped in a pressure cooker, the temperature rising, heat threatening to set my veins alight. I’m way too close to Savannah. Hell, if this car were any smaller, she’d be sitting on my damn lap. I need to get away from her before I do something stupid…like kiss her pretty mouth…fill my hands with her soft curves.
“I better get going,” I mutter, shifting in my seat. My cock is swelling, thick and hard against my thigh, and pretty soon my jeans won’t be able to hide it.
“It was good to meet you, Clay,” Savannah says softly. “Even if the circumstances weren’t exactly…ideal.”
I nod, swallowing hard. I don’t know what to say. This girl has no idea what she’s doing to me right now. She’s smiling at me so damn sweetly that I’m almost expecting a halo to appear around her head.
I force out a low goodbye, more a grunt than anything.
“Bye, Clay,” Savannah replies. “Take care of yourself.”
Pushing open the door, I glance back at her. Our eyes meet, and suddenly I can’t move. It feels like there’s a rope tightening around my torso, pinning me to my seat and making it physically impossible to leave this sweet angel behind.
Pull yourself together, Clay.
Get out of the fucking car.
The struggle lasts several beats too long, and it takes all my willpower to finally wrench my gaze away from Savannah’s. Then I get out of her car without another word, climbing up into my truck. Her engine rumbles to life beside me, and I watch as she drives toward the exit, taking a right out of the parking lot.
My nose brushes the windscreen. I’m leaning so close that my breath steams up the glass as I twist my neck to keepSavannah’s car in sight. She told me earlier she lives near the hardware store, and sure enough, I watch her pull up outside a small apartment block on the other side of the street, just a few buildings away.
A security light turns on, illuminating Savannah as she gets out of the car. Even from here, I can make out her thick curves, her shiny brown hair spilling down her back. I watch her like a hawk as she grabs her purse and shuts the car door, then disappears inside the building. A minute later, a window on the top floor turns light. I keep my gaze trained on it, waiting for any sign of movement, but a shadowy hand pulls the curtains closed and the window turns dark once more.
“Fuck.”
I slump back in my seat, smacking my head against the headrest with a growl of frustration.
This is bad. Really bad.
I’ve seen how this shit goes. I watched it happen to guys in the military. Watched it happen to Thorne when he met Aria. His obsession took hold overnight, and he was instantly wrapped around her little finger.
I swore I’d never let that happen to me.
But here I am, sitting in my truck with a hard-on, staring at an apartment block to get a glimpse of a girl I just met. And I’m pissed off as hell about it. I didn’t ask for this. Didn’t ask for this angel to hit me with her car and turn my brain inside out in the process. She’s knocked something loose inside me—opened a floodgate I can’t seem to close.
This is how it all starts.
Gritting my teeth, I drive out of the parking lot, hands tightening on the wheel as I pass Savannah’s apartment. I need to calm down—take a cold shower and claw back some of my sanity. But as I begin the journey back to my cabin on CherryMountain, I can’t help feeling like my whole world has been flipped on its head.
5
SAVANNAH
I hate small towns sometimes.
That’s my first thought when I wake up the next morning to ten missed calls and a dozen texts from my grandma. I groan as I skim through them, my eyes still bleary with sleep. They all say pretty much the same thing.
Sheila from book club says you’re dating Clay Benson????
I told her she must have her wires crossed but the woman insisted!!!
Is it true???
