Page 44 of My End
Tilly
The house had a strange vibe to it this morning. Not the comforting kind, like a cozy blanket pulled over at the end of the day. No, this was the sharp, waiting kind. Like the quiet that came before a gunshot. A little too deliberate. A little too hollow.
I padded barefoot down the second-floor hallway, my fingers trailing along the smooth wood paneling down the stairs and headed toward the kitchen.
I hadn’t stopped thinking about Jake.
Jake with the careful hands and intense stare. Jake with the mouth that had ruined me for anything less than full-blown obsession. Jake, who kept his secrets like armor, but whose touch made my knees tremble and my thoughts scatter.
And then I saw him.
He stepped out of a shadowed alcove at the far end of the hall and walked toward me like something out of a slow-motion dream. His long strides were quiet but powerful, and the way he carried himself was somewhere between a soldier and a sinner.
“Hey,” I whispered, my voice barely louder than the hush around us.
He didn’t say anything. Just kept walking toward me, but the second he reached me, he didn’t stop.
His hand slipped around my waist, pulled me flush against him, and before I could catch my breath, he spun us both into the little nook behind one of the tall plants lining the corridor.
The wall met my back with a soft thud, and his mouth was on mine.
I gasped into the kiss, and he swallowed the sound whole with his lips, rough and hungry. His hand slid up my ribcage,skimming under the hem of my shirt as his fingers brushed my bare skin. My whole body lit up like a struck match.
“Jake—” I gasped.
But he kissed me again, this time slower, like he wanted to memorize the shape of my mouth. Like the risk of getting caught only made it sweeter.
His body was a furnace against mine, all heat and muscle, and restraint fraying at the edges. One of his thighs pressed between mine to pin and hold me still as his hands moved possessively.
I kissed him back like I’d been starving for it. Like I’d spent days dreaming of this very moment, because I had. The soft moan that escaped me was involuntary and desperate.
He pulled back just slightly, his breath ragged and lips swollen. His hand still cradled my waist, and the pads of his fingers dug into my hip like he couldn’t bear to let me go.
“I like it when you kiss me, Jake,” I whispered as my chest rose and fell in uneven bursts.
His smile faded, and his eyes darkened as he looked at me.
“Jake,” I said again, a little softer now, and reached up to touch his cheek.
But he stepped back. No words. No explanation.
Just a shift in his jaw and a muscle ticking beneath the surface.
Then he turned and walked away.
Not fast.
Not slow.
Just… gone.
I stared after him with my heart in my throat and a strange ache blooming in my chest. That wasn’t like him. He kissed like a man who meant it. Whofeltit. And then he vanished like it hadn’t happened at all.
What the hell?
Still breathing hard, I pressed a hand against the cool stone of the alcove wall and took a beat to collect myself.
I could chase him. Ask what was wrong.
