Page 38 of Wicked Scorn
I grab her hand, ignoring the current that zips up my arm, and lead her outside.
The fall air of October hits us as we exit the building, the buildings of St. Charles casting long shadows across the courtyard as the yellowing, rotten leaves lay across every surface. I guide her over to where my bike waits. She’s seen more than her share of confessions, from both myself and Oakley.
“Talk to me,” I insist, stopping by the bike and turning to face her. Her scent wraps around me, and it takes everything I have not to get sidetracked.
“Jeremiah, I—” She hesitates, chewing on her lower lip.
“Out with it,” I growl, my patience fraying.
“Okay, well…”
I don’t give her a chance to dodge again. In one smooth move, I back her against the bike, my hands planting firmly on the metal on either side of her hips. The motion cages her in, and our bodies are so damn close I can feel her every breath.
“Jeremiah,” she gasps my name breathily, caught between the bike and me, and damn if it isn’t the hottest thing I’ve heard all day.
“Tell me,” I demand, my voice dropping an octave, the words vibrating between us.
Her chest rises and falls rapidly, her eyes locked onto mine. In this space where it’s her and me and the thing we used to do together, I see it—all the want, the fear, the need. It’s a heady mix that has my blood singing, and the urge to close the gap, to taste her cherry-kissed lips, to stake my claim, is almost unbearable.
“It’s nothing, please,” she pleads, and the tremor in her voice is like a siren song.
“Please what, bunny?” I lean in, my lips hovering just above hers, my breath mingling with hers. “Tell me what you need.”
“Just to get out of here,” she breathes out, but her body tells a different story, pressing ever so slightly against mine. And fuck, I’m only human.
“Is that really what you want?” I tease, my mouth brushing against the corner of hers, not quite a kiss. “Because your body’s saying something else entirely.”
“Please,” she moans, and the sound sends my senses spiraling.
“Please what, Oakley?” I murmur, letting my lips brush her ear. “Talk to me. Tell me why you’re so scared and then maybe I’ll take you for a ride.”
“You’re too close,” she says, her voice trembling.
“Am I?” I smirk, enjoying the way she shivers. “Maybe this is exactly where I need to be.”
“Stop it,” she pleads, hands pushing weakly against my chest, but there’s no real force behind them. “Not everything has to be a quid pro quo.”
“I can’t help if you keep shutting me out.,” I demand, my tone softening just a fraction.
“Fine,” she bites out, frustration flashing in her eyes. “You want to know? Everything about physical touch freaks me out.It sends me into a panic. I can’t...I can’t handle it. Too many people in class were too close today and it just got to be too much.”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” I ask, frowning. My hand instinctively reaches for her hip, thumb brushing over the fabric of her dress. Her breath hitches, and I feel a surge of protectiveness.
“Because I’m broken,” she says, tears welling up. “And I didn’t want you to see how messed up I am.”
“Oakley,” I say, my voice low and intense. “You’re bent but not broken. You’re stronger than you think. And do you really think I would judge you on how messed up your life is? In case you forgot, my life is full of fucked up things.”
“Promise?” she asks, looking at me with those big, vulnerable eyes.
“Promise,” I reply, sealing the vow with a kiss to her forehead. Her skin is soft, warm under my lips, and I feel an overwhelming urge to shield her from every hurt.
“Now,” I say, lifting her chin with a finger so she meets my gaze again. “Are you going to let me in, or do I have to fight my way through those walls you’ve built?”
She nods, a small, vulnerable movement that does funny things to my chest. I fight the urge to pull her into my arms further.
“Yea, I know you’ll keep me safe from certain things. But you’re not safe for me.” Pain lances through me because as much as I want to fight against her statement, it’s true. I’ve already proven that.
“C’mon,” I murmur, my thumbs tracing idle patterns on her hips. “I’m taking you for a ride.”
