Page 75 of Wood Riddance
Mrs. Franklin, the librarian, added, “With shirts off.”
They were clearly sauced, but the remarks only added to the rage pumping through my veins. Half the town had seen my little spectacle. And although I should be ashamed and embarrassed, I was more concerned with the feel of Adele’s fingers where they gripped my wrist so hard they would probably leave bruises.
She didn’t let go, even as we hit the parking lot. The crowd inside gawked and held up their phones, recording us in hopes of catching some of the drama on film to share with their friends. I could only imagine what kind of rumors would be flying through the diner tomorrow.
She marched over to the far side of the parking lot, where we’d have a modicum of privacy, dragging me along behind her. The gawkers were probably hovering close enough to keep their recordings going, but my sole focus was on Adele.
“What the hell is going on?” She looked even more beautiful in the glow of the moonlight.
I itched to pull her into my arms and kiss the hell out of her.
“What the hell, Finn?” she hollered, pulling me from my trance.
I crossed my arms over my chest and stood a little straighter. “Why didn’t you text me back?”
“Seriously,” she huffed. “You almost started a brawl in a bar because I didn’t respond to a text? Toxic much?”
“No. That was because I didn’t like seeing you with Dylan.”
Throwing her arms into the air, she let out a sardonic laugh. “You are insane. I’m not with Dylan.” She took a step closer, planting her hands on her hips. “He’s one of my oldest friends and a really nice guy.”
“Didn’t look that way.”
“What has gotten into you? Are you drunk?”
“No. I only had half a beer. I only want to talk to you. I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Pulling in a deep breath, I ran my hands through my hair, fighting the overwhelming urge to pull it out of my scalp. Lust and anger and hurt coursed through my veins. Dammit, I was butchering this whole situation.
This was not what Alicia meant when she advised me to be cool and take things slow with Adele. “Every minute of every day, I think about you and want you and crave you.”
Her head on a swivel, she scanned the parking lot to make sure no one was within earshot and took a step closer. Once the shouting had died down, it looked as though our audience had dispersed.
“We said it was one time. It was a mistake.” She avoided eye contact. A sure tell.
“Really?” I said, taking one big step and closing the distance between us.
Her breath hitched at my proximity, and I had to suppress a smile.
“Because it wasn’t a mistake for me,” I murmured. “I want more.”
She looked up at me, her eyes glassy. “You can’t have more.”
Slowly, I tilted her chin up and regarded her. “We’ll see about that.”
And then I leaned in and kissed her, taking her mouth gently but firmly. I intended this to be a brief kiss, nothing more than a chaste press of my lips against hers, but once our mouths touched, I couldn’t control myself.
I dove in, tunneling into her hair with one hand to get better access and grasping her ass with the other. Nothing made sense. I was acting on instinct. Alarm bells rang in my head, screamingmineover and over again, making it impossible to think rationally.
Because she was the opposite of passive, Adele fisted my shirt, pulling me closer and giving as good as she got.
God, this woman was made for me.
When my lungs were so deprived of oxygen I worried I would black out, I pulled back to take a breath. She was in my arms, panting, her entire body aware and awake.
I wanted her so badly.
“Come home with me,” she said, her hand resting on my belt buckle.
