I beam up at him, popping a french fry into my mouth. “The happiest. You?”
He stares at me, his eyes serious as he takes my hand, lacing his fingers through mine.
“You have no idea how happy.”
Just then, a clap of thunder rolls through the air. The trees in his front yard begin to shiver as a gust of wind whips through them. Seconds later, the sky opens, and a torrent of rain crashes down on us. I throw my head back as I stare up at the inky blankness. Rain washes over me, instantly soaking my hair and clothes.
“What in the hell is this?”
“A Georgia thunderstorm,” Jake yells over another clap of thunder. “Come on, let’s get inside.”
He curls a warm, heavy arm around my shoulders, pulling me close to him as we sprint across the yard to the safety of his covered porch. Bringing a finger over his lips, he signals for me to be quiet as we step into the unlit foyer, tugging off our shoes and leaving them in the darkened doorway.
“Wait here,” he whispers, disappearing into the blackness before returning a moment later with a towel in hand. He pulls it around my shoulders, running his hands up and down my arms to warm my shivering frame. My breath catches as his hands move over my body.
“Better?” His voice is husky as his eyes lock on mine, and I nod once, suddenly unable to speak. He draws a breath and steps back, clearing his throat as he drags a hand through his wet hair. “It’s getting late. We’d better get to bed.”
Wordlessly, I follow him upstairs, reluctantly lingering in the doorway when we reach the guest room.
“Goodnight, Lexi,” he says softly. His eyes soften around the edges as he reaches forward to tuck a wet strand of hair behind my ear. I gasp at his touch, my lips parting instinctively. Jake’s eyes grow heavy-lidded as he leans closer, and I can see him wrestling with something inside himself. When he speaks again, his voice is low.
“What we had last year. It was real, wasn’t it? It was just one weekend, but fuck, Lexi. It was the best weekend of my life.”
It feels as though all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room. The air between us grows thick and silent, save for the warning thump of my heart as it slams against my rib cage. I feel that familiar longing, my body pulling toward him as though guided by an invisible string. Jake strokes his thumb against my cheek, and I let out a soft whimper when his fingers graze my burning skin.
I want to tell him everything. That I ached for him when heleft. That I felt like a shell of myself when he was gone. And that I finally feel alive again now that he’s back. But fear refuses to release its tight hold on my heart. Things that seem too good to be true usually are. Letting out a slow exhale, I take one step back.
“Goodnight, Jake,” I whisper. Turning, I walk into the spare bedroom, shutting the door behind me.
Breathless, I slide down against the wood and sink to the floor. I wrap my arms around my knees, attempting to calm myself, but it’s no use. My skin feels like it’s on fire, a lustful, burning sense of need sneaking its way up my belly.
What am I doing?For the past month, I’ve tried to convince myself that Jake and I could just be friends, that I could ignore the attraction, the chemistry, the way my chest contracts every time he brushes against me. But I can’t deny the way I feel about him anymore. Not to him, and most of all, not to myself.
I pull myself up and yank the door open, stepping back out into the hallway at the exact moment Jake opens the bedroom door across from me. His rain-soaked hair is slicked across his forehead, his shirt stretched tightly across his chest.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
Our gazes lock, and I see Jake’s jaw twitch. He takes a small step forward, and then I’m racing toward him, closing the space between us. Grabbing me by the waist, he lifts me effortlessly, and I wrap my legs around his body as his lips mold against mine.
He tastes like karaoke punch and greasy french fries, and I cannot get enough of him. My fingers twist in his hair as he pulls me closer, his hands sliding down my back. He walks us backward into his bedroom, stumbling blindly until we crash against his bookcase, its contents rattling precariously on the shelves. I try to shush him, but the sound gets swallowed by his mouth as he pushes me against the wall, our kisses growing deeper and more desperate.
His hands slide down to the hem of my dress, his fingersknotting themselves around the fabric. Then he takes a small step back, his eyes never leaving mine as he lifts it slowly over my head and discards it on the floor behind him. His eyes glimmer in the darkness as they run over me.
“Lexi.” His voice is deep, gravelly.
“Jake.”
Calloused fingertips brush against my cheekbones as he leans forward to kiss me gently. Then he drags his mouth down to my jawline, my neck, my stomach, his tongue exploring every inch of exposed skin. Lowering himself to his knees, he gently tugs my underwear down to my ankles. His hands grasp the back of my thighs, and I gasp when he presses his mouth between my legs, my fingers knotting themselves in his hair.
“Jake, please,” I pant, as I arch into him.
Taking my hand, he leads me over to his bed, sinking down into it and pulling me onto his lap.
“Nice twin bed,” I whisper as I pull his shirt over his head and toss it to the floor. “Do you bring all the girls up here?”
A devilish glint forms in his eyes as he traces a finger down the base of my spine.
