I want to so bad it’s a physical,violentache. It forces my eyes to stalk her every move whenever we’re in the same room. Makes me shudder like a damn virgin when she does something as innocent as touching my stomach in a cramped closet. Makes me do stupid shit like sniff her and tell her she smells like coconuts.
I hang my head, rubbing my eyes as I try to shake the feeling. But that’s just it. I’ve tried to shake it, smother it, kill it, and the sensation only builds. I crave the weird, electric zing that wakes me up when she smiles. Somehow, in those few minutes we were alone, she rubbed off on me, and I want more. When I think of her, my chest burns.
And, shit.
I know that can’t be good.
Exhaling through my nose, I force my body to move and hop out of the truck. As I cut along the side of the house toward the backyard, I keep my gaze on the pavement to avoid temptation. But when the ladder I left propped against the stucco catches my eye, it’s no use. I’m grabbing the rungs before I have a chance to talk myself out of it.
Guilt grips me with each pull as I climb higher, higher, but I’m determined to ignore it. I’m not the same guy I used to be, I’m sure as hell not my dad, and I’m not a damn animal either. I can refrain from making a move just to thank Blue for two minutes.
At night. Alone. In her bedroom. Probably while she’s wearing those little shorts she sleeps in.
Fuck.
I’m about to start backtracking when a soft voice floats to my ears from above my head.
“Joshua?”
I swallow. Look up.
Blue’s sticking her head out the window, long hair hanging past the windowsill, a curious spark in her eyes.
Two more rungs, and I’ll be level with her.
I don’t move.
She scans the ladder, then she grins. “So that’s how you got my notes up here last week.” Her voice drops to a teasing whisper. “Now I know your secret.”
I huff out a dry laugh, rub the back of my head. If she really knew my secret—my past, what runs in my blood—she’d be slamming her window shut in my face. And she’d be right to do it.
She tilts her head. “So what’s up?”
My grip tightens on the rungs, ready to make a quick getaway. “I gotta run, but I wanted to say thanks. For helping me out earlier.” I glance down before sliding my gaze back up to hers. “I, uh, I know I’m not so good at showing it, but ... I appreciate what you did.”
She smiles. “First the English notes, then a fake family dinner. I’m going to have to start keeping a tally of all the favors you owe me.”
“Favors, huh?” I cock a brow, squinting up at her. I never know what this girl’s gonna say. “Should I be worried?”
“Hmm.” She looks at the sky, tapping her chin with her pointer finger. “I guess that depends.”
“Yeah? On what?”
“On what kind of guy you are.” When she gazes down at me, I fight the urge to look away before she sees too much. “Tell me, Joshua Hunt. What kind of guy are you?”
My palms go slick against the ladder, but I aim my stare right at her. I want to see her expression when I say what’s probably the most honest and important thing I’ve said to her all night.
“The kind who shouldn’t be at your window.”
She holds my gaze, bold and candid. “No,” she whispers. “Definitely not.”
I give a stiff nod before lowering myself again.
“You should be in my bedroom.”
Jesus. I shut my eyes, trying to stop those words from replaying. My gaze travels back up to meet hers.
“You promised me an explanation, remember?” She arches a brow. “Isn’t that why you’re here?”
