Page 67 of The Bright Side of Brooding
I will endeavor to deserve to know you.
I will take my chances with you.
I glanced over into the kitchen. Nick stood at the sink, but the water was off. Maybe drying something. He had a dishwasher, so I wasn’t sure. But there was one more section on these open pages. I wouldn’t turn the page—I wouldn’t invade his privacy that way. Even my desperate, needy little heart had a line.
Miraculous things happen with your hands on me. My hearts stops, clearing all interference. Nothing will interrupt the pads of your fingers tracing my jaw. Silence will greet the press of your lips. Stillness answers the slide of your skin against mine. The ragged muscle in the cage at my chest, so weak from disuse, only starts again when you whisper my name. The whip of the word reminds me of breath and I take it. The stolen seconds between us have changed me—
My hands shook. That one extended onto the next page, and every atom of my existence wanted to keep reading. His words were sensual and full of so much meaning, I could hardly swallow. In fact, I couldn’t. I shot up, desperate for a drink.
“You okay?”
“Uh… yeah…” I pushed past the couch and practically stumbled to the table. He hadn’t cleared the glasses, thank goodness, and I gulped down most of the water remaining in mine.
“Summer?” He came close, a hand on my back. “What is it?”
I wiped my mouth, buying time. I couldn’t very well say I’d read his book. Could I? And if I did? What would happen? Was it the kind of thing that disappeared off the page once read? Did it remove the sentiment, to be written down?
“I, uh…”
Get it together!I couldn’t find words. Something abouthiswords had shaken me, created a shuddering weakness at the pit of my stomach. In fact, on that note, I might retch. The muscles of my throat worked, and I took the last sip of water.
His hand rubbed gentle circles in the curve of my lower back as he watched me. His eyes, intense and concerned, made the suffocating sensation intensify. And I knew I wouldn’t calm down, not here. I wouldn’t be able to sit down over there and see that book and not be torn to shreds.
“I’m so sorry, I’m feeling kind of bad all of a sudden. I’m going to run home.” I grabbed the jacket we hadn’t moved from the back of the chair no one sat in and yanked it on. “I’ll grab the dinner stuff on—another time.”
“Okay. Do you need medicine? Do you want me to come—”
“I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I’m sorry.”
And with that, I was gone. Out of his front door, with him reaching it seconds after I’d tried to cram it shut behind me. I choked back the sob rising in me, but the tears had started. Every step I took pounded the thought into me—what the hell is happening right now?
By the time I reached my house, I flung the door open, then shut it behind me and sank down against it. I tucked my head into my knees and breathed slowly.
I’d flipped out.Flipped. The. Eff. Out.
His words… all those gorgeous words, and they were about me. I knew it. And what they said, all of them together, painted a picture of Nick wanting me. With an intensity I didn’t think anyone ever had.Ever.
And what that did to me?
Need. It made writhing, aching need crawl up from the depths of my belly and grip my heart in a vise-like fist. And the minute I recognized that, I ran.
