I want to raise my arm and give him my hand, but all at once, I’m paralyzed. My body is no longer my own. I can’t move.
Jase’s eyes narrow. “Come on, Pixie.”
What are you afraid of?
I can almost hear the words. I know exactly what he’s thinking and that he wants an answer. But he’s not going to get one.
He sighs in frustration and then takes a step back. He murmurs something to himself that I can’t understand. Instead, I stare at him again. His broad shoulders, his muscular back, and...what the hell is wrong with me?
He whirls around to face me again so fast that I flinch with shock. Great, as though I’m not weird enough yet.
“Come here,” he says, beckoning me forward. I hesitate. What does he have in mind? This is completely pointless. It won’t help. I open my mouth to tell him that, but I can’t get a word out. Instead, I just walk toward him. I pull my fingers into the sleeves of my sweatshirt. I stop next to him, right in front of the mirror.
“Wait a sec.” He goes over to the little Bluetooth speaker in the corner, pulls his phone out of his pocket, and connects it before coming back to me.
I know the song as soon as the first few notes echo through the studio. It’s “Take My Hand” by 5 Seconds of Summer. I freeze, my pulse races, and my eyes start to burn. I frantically blink away the tears before he notices them. He remembers.
He remembers my answer from back when he asked me what my favorite song was. The realization hits me straight in the heart. Why does he remember that?
For the same reason you remember every single one of his answers too.
Jase stops close behind me. He doesn’t touch me, but I can feelthe heat coming from his body. I would love to lean back, directly on his chest, and feel his skin.
“Look in the mirror.” His voice sends a shiver up my spine, and I do as he suggests. My reflection looks back, and for a moment, I can only think that my hair is a damp mess and I look tiny next to Jase.
He’s tall and handsome and is waiting calmly for my eyes to meet his in the mirror. He only reaches out a hand after I look at him, and I realize what’s happening with the mirror. I can see what he’s doing, but I don’t have to look at him directly. Not really. I look at him in the mirror, and it’s our reflections that are touching, not us. Even though, of course we are.
I take a deep breath and finally manage to put my hand in his. His skin is warm and smooth, and mine begins to tingle immediately. In the mirror, I see how his lips press together. I’m concentrating on him so intently that at first, I don’t notice how his fingers interlace with mine. They move of their own accord, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. My pulse is already out of the normal range again.
I don’t know if Jase can feel how fast my heart is suddenly beating, but he can see it in the mirror. The artery in my throat is pulsing.
“How do you like the school?” He asks casually, and at first I’m annoyed. Does he really want to make small talk? But then I feel his fingertips on my other hand. He’s trying to distract me.
His fingers stroke the back of my hand. It’s the lightest possible touch. My breath catches, but this time there’s no panic or fear closing off my throat. It’s just Jase.
It takes me a few seconds too long before I find my voice again. “I like it a lot. How about you?”
He can’t suppress the smile that appears on his face, even though he’s trying to. “Me too,” he answers just as simply. His smile gets a little wider. I see little creases form around his eyes, and I return his smile automatically.
“What do you like about it?” Now he interlaces the fingers of his other hand with mine. He squeezes gently, and heat shoots through my body.
For a second, I can’t tell which way is up, or where we even are, and then I remember.
“I... Our rooms are great,” I respond, since I can’t think of anything better to say. My mind is blank, my entire essence focused on the feeling of his hands on my skin.
It’s all so strange.Iam strange. And so is he. We’re acting weird. We don’t even know how to talk to each other. When Jase was at our house, Caleb was always there. Yes, I hung around with my brother and his friends a lot, but Jase and I never talked. Not like this. Because we were never really alone, aside from that night in the treehouse. And the night of Adaline’s party. On the night that it all started, and then again on the night that it ended.
I start to get cold, but before the memories catch up with me, before the panic can flame up again, Jase lets my hands go. The images fade as his fingers stroke the backs of my hands and wander up my arms, lightly enough that I can barely feel it through the thick material of the sweatshirt. I still get goose bumps all over my body, my breathing speeds up, and my heart skips a couple of beats again. Whatever this feeling is that’s taking me over, it’s not fear, and it drives the cold away.
His hands rest for a moment on my shoulders, heavy and calm, and I instinctively lean back against him. His skin is warm on myback; I can feel his muscles and his heart underneath them, and I feel totally calm.
I want to turn my head to look at him, really look at him, but his gaze in the mirror has me captivated.
“How does that feel?” Jase whispers. His voice is low and hoarse. It seems like it’s been ages since he spoke, when only a few minutes have actually passed.
I answer without thinking. “It feels like you.”
Chapter 19
