in something as simple as not sounding like an elephant?
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“ I’m going home.”
“What about me?”
“I don’t know. It’s a windy evening. Guess you could, oh… go fly a kite or something.” And then another one of those freak spring storms would roll in, lightening could strike and, Viola! Fried hot guy. Man, sometimes those old sayings of my dads were just plain appropriate.
There was a slight break in his stride. I glanced over and was almost surprised to see the incredulous look on his face. Though I guess I shouldn’t have been. How many girls ever actually refused a guy like him? Still, maybe I was being unfair. Maybe he was being genuine. Doubted it, but there was a chance. And if that were the case, than my cold shoulder brushoff edged well into the realm of rude. Especially without an explanation, and I wasn’t one to go for unexplained cruelty.
Sighing, I slowed to a stop, turning to face him as he slid into a graceful halt beside me. “Listen, I’m flattered and all…”
I trailed off, unable to crush the hopeful look in his eyes. And that was so not right. A guy as hot as he was should not be the one hanging on my every word. I should be the one panting like a puppy dog at his heels.
He shifted, his shoulders tense under his black, poly running tank. “Why does it sound like there is a ‘but’ in there?”
I lifted my chin. “ But I’m more than just a pretty face.”
He stepped in closer, his hand sliding up my arm setting off the now predictable shiver, those blue eyes so intense I thought I might fall into them. Worse, I wanted to. God but I wanted to.
Don’t be stupid, Eva. Don’t be stupid.
“Then show me. Show me you’re more. And let me show you that I am too.” The words sounded like a gong in my mind despite the fact that he had whispered them. He leaned down, his fingers on my chin tipping, tilting as they simultaneously burned a path of fire across my jaw. His breath hot and sweet like candied almonds on my lips. His eyes holding onto me, entreating me to give in. Give him a chance.
How I wanted to. One chance. One kiss. What could it possibly hurt to just see?
I rose up on my toes.
11.
I wake up gasping, a wet stream of moisture sliding down my cheek and my body racking with pent-up sobs. Angry with myself, I swipe the offending tears away. Stupid. How stupid. I wish I could go back and grab that gullible pre-me by the shoulders and shake her. If not that, then I wish I could amputate the memories or at least the feelings that go with them.
Show me you’re more.
I hadn’t been—nothing but a stupid, naïve teenage girl—but he certainly was.
Why he’d gone after me, why I’d become the focus of his intensity was still a mystery to me. We’d had nothing in common. Not at first and not later after the getting-to-know-you-phase either. Though maybe that was it. Opposites attract and all that. And how we’d attracted.
Even now, hundreds of miles away I can’t deny that despite all my anger, all my hatred, that there isn’t a part of me that doesn’t yearn for him still.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” I reprimand myself, firmly eradicating the memory from my thoughts.
There is a rap on the door. I take one last swipe at my eyes and flip my legs off the cot even as I realize that the noise is probably what woke me. Which means whoever is out there has been waiting for my answer.
Cursing, I stumble to the door, flipping the locks, and yanking it open. “Yeah?”
John raises a brow at my cranky greeting—or maybe my disheveled state—but doesn’t comment otherwise. Good thing. I’d have to kill him if he said anything about what I am sure is a major case of puffy, red-rimmed eyes.
“Commander Derwood wants us in the briefing room,” he informs me.
Good. A distraction.
I nod and grab up my knife and Glock. They’ve become such a part of me, I feel naked if I’m not wearing them, and after
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“ I’m going home.”
“What about me?”
“I don’t know. It’s a windy evening. Guess you could, oh… go fly a kite or something.” And then another one of those freak spring storms would roll in, lightening could strike and, Viola! Fried hot guy. Man, sometimes those old sayings of my dads were just plain appropriate.
There was a slight break in his stride. I glanced over and was almost surprised to see the incredulous look on his face. Though I guess I shouldn’t have been. How many girls ever actually refused a guy like him? Still, maybe I was being unfair. Maybe he was being genuine. Doubted it, but there was a chance. And if that were the case, than my cold shoulder brushoff edged well into the realm of rude. Especially without an explanation, and I wasn’t one to go for unexplained cruelty.
Sighing, I slowed to a stop, turning to face him as he slid into a graceful halt beside me. “Listen, I’m flattered and all…”
I trailed off, unable to crush the hopeful look in his eyes. And that was so not right. A guy as hot as he was should not be the one hanging on my every word. I should be the one panting like a puppy dog at his heels.
He shifted, his shoulders tense under his black, poly running tank. “Why does it sound like there is a ‘but’ in there?”
I lifted my chin. “ But I’m more than just a pretty face.”
He stepped in closer, his hand sliding up my arm setting off the now predictable shiver, those blue eyes so intense I thought I might fall into them. Worse, I wanted to. God but I wanted to.
Don’t be stupid, Eva. Don’t be stupid.
“Then show me. Show me you’re more. And let me show you that I am too.” The words sounded like a gong in my mind despite the fact that he had whispered them. He leaned down, his fingers on my chin tipping, tilting as they simultaneously burned a path of fire across my jaw. His breath hot and sweet like candied almonds on my lips. His eyes holding onto me, entreating me to give in. Give him a chance.
How I wanted to. One chance. One kiss. What could it possibly hurt to just see?
I rose up on my toes.
11.
I wake up gasping, a wet stream of moisture sliding down my cheek and my body racking with pent-up sobs. Angry with myself, I swipe the offending tears away. Stupid. How stupid. I wish I could go back and grab that gullible pre-me by the shoulders and shake her. If not that, then I wish I could amputate the memories or at least the feelings that go with them.
Show me you’re more.
I hadn’t been—nothing but a stupid, naïve teenage girl—but he certainly was.
Why he’d gone after me, why I’d become the focus of his intensity was still a mystery to me. We’d had nothing in common. Not at first and not later after the getting-to-know-you-phase either. Though maybe that was it. Opposites attract and all that. And how we’d attracted.
Even now, hundreds of miles away I can’t deny that despite all my anger, all my hatred, that there isn’t a part of me that doesn’t yearn for him still.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” I reprimand myself, firmly eradicating the memory from my thoughts.
There is a rap on the door. I take one last swipe at my eyes and flip my legs off the cot even as I realize that the noise is probably what woke me. Which means whoever is out there has been waiting for my answer.
Cursing, I stumble to the door, flipping the locks, and yanking it open. “Yeah?”
John raises a brow at my cranky greeting—or maybe my disheveled state—but doesn’t comment otherwise. Good thing. I’d have to kill him if he said anything about what I am sure is a major case of puffy, red-rimmed eyes.
“Commander Derwood wants us in the briefing room,” he informs me.
Good. A distraction.
I nod and grab up my knife and Glock. They’ve become such a part of me, I feel naked if I’m not wearing them, and after
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