Just to feel her warmth and the soft give of her skin, the tickle of her hair and the gentle rise and fall of her chest—all those things that tell mehowaliveshe is.
How surreal is this? How strange has my life become that one month ago I was griping about teaching literature to my seniors, and now I’m merely feeling grateful that this hurricane of a woman is alive?
Autumn Grove should not be a town where I worry about people dying.
She clears her throat, a nervous sound that’s amplified by the press of my ear against her neck. “Hey,” she says.
“Mmm,” I hum, my hands sliding from her shoulders to her upper arms.
She clears her throat again. “What—what are you doing?”
“Just…making sure.”
She doesn’t ask me what I’m making sure of, and I don’t know that I could answer if she did. There are so many warring thoughts and feelings, so many opposing instincts that are battling for dominance.
I want to kiss her again.
I want to hold her.
I want to push her away and keep myself safe.
I want to pull her close and keephersafe.
“You interrupted me,” she says finally. “I’m not—I wasn’t done being mad at you.”
“I didn’t hear any protests,” I say, and it might be a good thing that she can’t see my smile. “But you bit my ear. You pinched me. Did you need more?”
“Yes,” she says. “I wanted to use my words instead of resorting to violence.”
“That’s fine,” I say. “You can keep going.” The bridge of my nose presses into her collarbone as I speak, a sharp ridge I want to trace with my tongue. I tighten my grip on her upper arms, trying to ignore the shiver that courses through her at my touch.
Intoxicating. She’s intoxicating.
“I—you can’t—” She swallows, something I feel and hearrather than see. “It’s hard to tell you off when you’re being like this.”?*
My sigh is heavy, but it’s also accompanied at last by a sense of relief. It finally seems to be sinking into my system that Juniper is okay. “All right,” I say, lifting my head. “Go ahead, then.”
She looks pointedly at my hands on her upper arms. “Are you moving those, or are they staying?”
Ha. Let’s not get crazy.
“They’re staying unless you want them to move,” I say.
Juniper tilts her head as she looks up at me in a way that makes my pulse spike all over again; this is a curious look she’s giving me, intrigued, searching for…something.
“You know,” she says slowly, a faint smile curling her lips—lips still red from being kissed. “I have this theory about you. And I think you might end up proving me right.”
“Of course I won’t,” I say, fully aware that I’m spewing nonsense. “Now are you going to be mad at me?”
“Yes,” she says immediately. “Just don’t be obnoxious, Aiden. Don’t shout at me, and don’t make assumptions.”
“Is it an assumption if it’s true?” I say, my eyes narrowing on her. “Because I have it on very good authority that Gus told you about Sandy and you immediately booked it out of there to come here.”
“Gus is a little snitch, I see,” she mutters under her breath.
I clamp down on the laugh that wants to escape. “I will try not to make assumptions,” I say instead, “if you will promise not to run recklessly into situations that could be dangerous.”
“Ididn’tgo recklessly into a dangerous situation,” she says, rolling her eyes. “That’s mypoint.I hid inthe library.”
