Page 94 of Riding the Sugar High

“Not the details,” she says in a scolding voice. “But if I can’t tell anyone that there is something between us, then I don’t wantanythingbetween us.”

Jesus, again with this. I tell her I like her, and she doesn’t believe me. I show her how my body reacts to her, and she still thinks I’m hiding her.

I get it. She’s been hurt, and she struggles to trust men—we have Derek to thank for that—but I can’t watch her feel this way about herself, and I can’t stand that she believes any of it about me.

“Primrose, I’m not ashamed of you. Of...” My skin pulsates with warmth. “Ofus.”

“Sure you aren’t. But you won’t take me on a ride, you won’t acknowledge in front of your friend that you like me.” She scoffs. “The day after you confessed you’re attracted to me, you asked me not to tell your friends.”

“That’s not?—”

“Kyle!” she calls as she waves her hand in his direction. “We’re done talking. You can stop pretending you’re looking for a hose.”

Kyle stares at me for confirmation, and with a shake of my head, I turn around and walk back to the tractor.

I sit and grab my bottle of lukewarm water, enjoying the partial shade from the tractor’s cab. Primrose’s voice reaches me from across the field, and I’m annoyed again that Kyle gets to hear her happy voice. I get the snappy voice, and for no reason.

What can I do to ease her concerns? To show her that I’m fully aware she’s out of my league, and not the other way around? She’s gorgeous, smart, a social butterfly. She’s built a social media empire for herself, only with her talent and hard work.

I’m lucky she evenlooksmy way.

Watching Kyle and Primrose chatting happily, an irrational wave of anger crests over me. I’m so jealous that I’m seething. Then I take in her bare legs, the fabric of her short skirt lightly flapping against the backs of her thighs, and my eyes stick to the hem, waiting for it to inch higher.

I want to kiss her. I kissed her once, and since then, I’ve wanted to kiss her again, and I’m pretty sure if I did it now, I wouldn’t want to stop kissing her.

Every time I see her smile, every time I hear the hopeful lilt in her voice, a part of me wants to believe that maybe, just maybe, I could be what she needs. But I'm not the knight in shining armor she’s looking for. I’m a tarnished sword, rusty and dull, incapable of protecting anyone.

She giggles over something he said, holding her stomach and shoving him playfully, and though it stirs my stomach, I can’t even be pissed off.

Her laugh is so unique. It’s infectious. Contagious. The laughter of someone who feels every emotion deeply. She’s like a rainbow of color and feelings, while I’ve got one thing. Useless and consuming dark anger.

She turns her head, her eyes meeting mine across the field, and everything else fades away. I try to fight it, I really do. I tell myself that she's not meant for me, that she's looking for a Prince Charming with a white horse and emotional availability, but I’m back on my feet and walking to her before I can think it through.

I’m tired of pondering, of longing, of watching from afar. I’m tired of pretending she’s just my alibi half of the time and my girlfriend the other half, while she’s neither.

Most of all, I’m done with her thinking she’s not good enough.

When Kyle’s head turns to me, he lifts his palms and takes a step back, but I don’t spare him a glance. Instead, I stop in front of her, cataloging her wide eyes and parted lips. Her chest is heaving, and I’m pretty sure I just scared her, which I’ll have to apologize for. Later.

I cup her cheek, and though she flinches, she doesn’t move back and instead stares deep into my eyes.

“What...what’s going on?”

God, her voice. She doesn’t sound angry anymore. Just surprised. And maybe...pleased.What’s going on, I tell her with my eyes,is that I want a chance.Even though she’ll be gone soon, and this will be over before I know it. Even though it’s stupid, and I’ll end up getting hurt when she leaves me behind. Even with all the reasons I havenotto date her...

“Fuck it,” I mumble as I lean forward, my lips falling on hers.

Holy shit.

She’s stiff at first, even more so when I let my other hand roam down her back and yank her flush against me. But it lasts less than a second before she melts. And then it’s...holy shitagain. She fits so perfectly between my arms, like her curves were made to smooth my sharp edges. She tastes like summer and berries, and it’s a familiar mix that makes my knees weak.

Her lips part, and I breathe hard at the implicit consent. Just like the first time, she’s inviting me in, telling me she wants this as much as I do. That she’s been waiting for it, craving it like I have. That this kiss is therealreason she’s still here.

Her tongue grazes mine, and my fist bunches into her hair in response. All the blood has rushed to my groin, and I know I should stop, but I can’t remember why. Especially when she lets out a moan, so soft I can’t hear it, but I feel it vibrating against my lips.

I want to keep kissing her forever.

I never,everwant my lips to do anything else.

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