of a sale bin.
“Whatcha got there? ” Reagan asks, moving some stuff around in the cart to find the razor.
“I’m about to be verging on Sasquatch territory, ” I say, holding my hands up defensively.
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, ” he offers with a knowing smirk. I can see the wheels turning in his head and it makes me blush. Reagan approaches me slowly, with a distinct sparkle in his eyes as he rests both arms on my shoulders. Our faces are two inches apart and suddenly I feel really short, and slightly suffocated. He wants to kiss me, I know it. Instinctively, I turn my head away but quickly realize I can’t escape his grasp.
“Reagan, ” I plead, looking everywhere but in his eyes.
“Josie, ” he says, amused.
“What are you doing? ” I ask, not really wanting to know and yet dying to know the answer.
“Looking at you, ” he answers with the utmost confidence. I mistakenly glance into his eyes and get caught in the depth of his chocolate irises. He looks at me in a way that I’ve never been looked at before. His expression is curious, excited, but most importantly, adoring. This is the way people dream of being looked at.
“I’m not interested. ” Lies . Big, huge lies.
“Oh, ” he mutters, dropping his arms to his sides.
“Sorry, ” I shrug, grabbing ahold of the cart for support.
Stupid, stupid, idiot. Why did I not just kiss him? That’s what I want, right? I let responsibility and doing the right thing get in the way of everything. All I can think about is how it would hurt Simon if I cheated on him, like, really cheated. As of right now, I’m in shady territory, at best, but I haven't crossed over. I haven't succumbed to my feelings yet and I want to keep it that way, at least until I talk to Simon.
Chapter Nineteen
“Are you going to share those?”
“Um, these are Cheetos. So…No.”
Reagan pouts as he leans against the mesh wall of the camper bed. It’s simply adorable so I offer him a handful of my Cheetos. We nestle into a dark corner of the RV with a small TV settled against the wall in front of us. It’s probably not safe to have it propped up on top of the covers but sitting in the tiny camper bed with “Pulp Fiction ” is my idea of a great night. With a bed full of eye candy, bags full of popcorn and other cheesy carbohydrates, I can’t imagine anything more perfect. Even after a tiff in Walmart, we sit side by side, laughing and munching snacks as the opening credits role.
I can’t concentrate on the movie, obviously. The sound of Reagan’s breathing is all I can focus on. His eyes are glued to the TV with a nonchalant expression. Meanwhile, I’m trying to not sweat profusely and keep my fidgeting to a minimum.
“You okay?”
“Fine, why? ” I ask, my voice a little higher than I intend.
“You keep moving around like you are uncomfortable. ” He looks a little hurt and I know it’s from what I said earlier.
“I’m good, ” I say with as reassuring a smile as I can manage.
After about forty-five minutes of concentrating on sitting still, I finally wear myself out. My eyes begin to flutter and I absentmindedly let my head fall onto Reagan’s shoulder. He doesn't flinch or really seem surprised by the gesture even though I said I wasn’t interested in him. He must see through my lie as much as I do.
Unfortunately my mind drifts to the fact that Simon still hasn't called. I meant to call him when we got back from the store but then I got distracted by Cheetos. There are about a hundred missed calls from Francesca who probably thinks I ran off into the sunset and will never hear from me again. I wish. Tomorrow I will call her first thing and make some private time to call Simon. My stomach flips at the thought of having to speak to him. Should I admit my feelings to him? Is that a good idea since I haven't quite figured them out myself? I imagine how mad he must be and shiver at the idea of him screaming at me. All things
“Whatcha got there? ” Reagan asks, moving some stuff around in the cart to find the razor.
“I’m about to be verging on Sasquatch territory, ” I say, holding my hands up defensively.
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, ” he offers with a knowing smirk. I can see the wheels turning in his head and it makes me blush. Reagan approaches me slowly, with a distinct sparkle in his eyes as he rests both arms on my shoulders. Our faces are two inches apart and suddenly I feel really short, and slightly suffocated. He wants to kiss me, I know it. Instinctively, I turn my head away but quickly realize I can’t escape his grasp.
“Reagan, ” I plead, looking everywhere but in his eyes.
“Josie, ” he says, amused.
“What are you doing? ” I ask, not really wanting to know and yet dying to know the answer.
“Looking at you, ” he answers with the utmost confidence. I mistakenly glance into his eyes and get caught in the depth of his chocolate irises. He looks at me in a way that I’ve never been looked at before. His expression is curious, excited, but most importantly, adoring. This is the way people dream of being looked at.
“I’m not interested. ” Lies . Big, huge lies.
“Oh, ” he mutters, dropping his arms to his sides.
“Sorry, ” I shrug, grabbing ahold of the cart for support.
Stupid, stupid, idiot. Why did I not just kiss him? That’s what I want, right? I let responsibility and doing the right thing get in the way of everything. All I can think about is how it would hurt Simon if I cheated on him, like, really cheated. As of right now, I’m in shady territory, at best, but I haven't crossed over. I haven't succumbed to my feelings yet and I want to keep it that way, at least until I talk to Simon.
Chapter Nineteen
“Are you going to share those?”
“Um, these are Cheetos. So…No.”
Reagan pouts as he leans against the mesh wall of the camper bed. It’s simply adorable so I offer him a handful of my Cheetos. We nestle into a dark corner of the RV with a small TV settled against the wall in front of us. It’s probably not safe to have it propped up on top of the covers but sitting in the tiny camper bed with “Pulp Fiction ” is my idea of a great night. With a bed full of eye candy, bags full of popcorn and other cheesy carbohydrates, I can’t imagine anything more perfect. Even after a tiff in Walmart, we sit side by side, laughing and munching snacks as the opening credits role.
I can’t concentrate on the movie, obviously. The sound of Reagan’s breathing is all I can focus on. His eyes are glued to the TV with a nonchalant expression. Meanwhile, I’m trying to not sweat profusely and keep my fidgeting to a minimum.
“You okay?”
“Fine, why? ” I ask, my voice a little higher than I intend.
“You keep moving around like you are uncomfortable. ” He looks a little hurt and I know it’s from what I said earlier.
“I’m good, ” I say with as reassuring a smile as I can manage.
After about forty-five minutes of concentrating on sitting still, I finally wear myself out. My eyes begin to flutter and I absentmindedly let my head fall onto Reagan’s shoulder. He doesn't flinch or really seem surprised by the gesture even though I said I wasn’t interested in him. He must see through my lie as much as I do.
Unfortunately my mind drifts to the fact that Simon still hasn't called. I meant to call him when we got back from the store but then I got distracted by Cheetos. There are about a hundred missed calls from Francesca who probably thinks I ran off into the sunset and will never hear from me again. I wish. Tomorrow I will call her first thing and make some private time to call Simon. My stomach flips at the thought of having to speak to him. Should I admit my feelings to him? Is that a good idea since I haven't quite figured them out myself? I imagine how mad he must be and shiver at the idea of him screaming at me. All things
Similar Books
