Page 47 of Unrivaled Love
“Try me.” I grit out through my teeth.
“The tree falling was supposed to be a prank.”
“What!”
“I never thought it would crash into the power line though. Or total your car!”
“You fucking asshole!” I yell as I start to tear through the yarn. I’m met with resistance when a thread catches on my leg. I try to free myself by lifting my leg as the pendant light over the island swings and shatters against the granite countertop.
Glass fragments litter the floor and I freeze.
“Jo!” Bryson cries and then he comes barreling into the yarn too. He’s not even trying to avoid the string; he's hulking his way to me like Shrek through a queue. A side table drags across the floor and a lamp in the living room crashes to the ground.
The yarn even snaps in a few places.
When he reaches me, his breathing is ragged and his eyes are wild.
He bends and untangles my foot. The slight brush of his fingers on my ankle sends shivers up my leg and they ripple out to each limb.
The little hairs on my arms and legs stand on end.
“There,” he whispers from his knees.
“Thanks,” I whisper back.
I study his face as he stands. Our chests are heaving and we’re inches from each other. He slowly, reverently, lifts his fingers. He brushes the tips along my hair line and trails them down behind my ear to where my neck meets my shoulder. His brown eyes following the path he traces. As he caresses my collar bone through my jersey, I have to bite my tongue to avoid shivering.
“I think you’re okay.” Bryson says with a smile and our eyes meet.
I forgot how dark his are and I am drawn to them like a moth to the flame.
Visions of a time I could see past his eyes and into his soul hit me out of nowhere and I suck in a breath, to compensate for the shock.
“What?” He asks as his head darts back to try and figure out where I might be hurt.
Except, I’m not hurt physically.
It’s deeper than that.
Years ago Bryson was a person I would share my emotions with.
Now, I don’t know if I should open up to Bryson, or if I even can.
We used to be friends.
We used to be more than friends.
But we haven’t been in a very long time.
“Jo? What’s going on?” Bryson asks gently and the resistance drains from my body.
I slump forward into his chest and he wraps his arms around me. My body can’t fight it anymore and the tears start to fall.
“Shh, it’s okay,” Bryson whispers and he presses a kiss to my temple as one hand moves up to cradle my head against his shoulder. He might not be my friend but he’s all I’ve got right now.
I open my mouth to explain but I don’t know where to start. Bryson senses my hesitation and helps me walk over the broken glass. When we’re clear he bends down and swoops me into a bridal carry.
A surprised, watery laugh tumbles out as I wrap my arms around his neck and I can see him swipe away a smile with his tongue as he carries me down the hall.
