Young Annabelle Series: Young Annabelle, the Truth About James, What My Heart Wants by Sarah Tork

of a meltdown. A huge bubble filled with anxiety grew in my stomach as he kept laughing. I feared it would inevitably burst and I’d be a hysterical mess right here in his car. I wiped water from the sides of my eyes. Once they were dry, I turned to face him.
    Well screw you too! I told him silently as I stared at him in disgust.
    I took a deep breath.
    “Can you stop the car, please?” I asked him calmly, pulling the best nonchalant face I could muster. He instantly stopped laughing and turned to me.
    “What? Why? We’re not at your house yet.” His voice was now void of the incredible hilarity he’d just experienced.
    Asshole!
    “Please pull over,” I demanded, my voice getting louder and noticeably more irritated.
    He reluctantly pulled the car the curb. “What did I do now?”
    I needed to get out of this car – like now.
    I couldn’t breathe.
    I unbu ckled and flung open the door. “Thanks for the ride. BYE.”
    I slammed the door shut and began down the sidewalk. Behind me, I heard the engine turn off and his door open and shut. I quickened my stride as James jogged up to me. I slowed down knowing I couldn’t escape his long legs anyway s.
    Plus, I didn’t want to get home all sweaty and have to explain myself.
    “What happened?” James asked, matching my pace.
    “Leave me alone!” I snapped back.
    I felt his hand grab my elbow, halting me easily. “Stop,” he ordered.
    Damn it, he’s strong!
    “What are you pissed about now?” He towered over me. I was trapped in front of him, if he tugged a bit, I’d be in his embrace.
    “It’s so funny huh? I’m that bad? I’m a clown, I’m so funny!” I jerked my arm, trying to break free of his grip. “Let me go!”
    “No!” He squeezed tighter, pulling me closer.
    “Leave me alone!” I spit the words like venom, pulling my arm with all my might.
    “What’s your problem?” James demanded loudly. His hand tightened on my arm with each attempt to pull away. My energy was dwindling and I was mentally exhausted. I stopped jerking my arm back, deciding it was pointless because he was too strong. There was no way I could pull my arm back without first kneeing him in the balls.
    We were alone, standing in the dark of night in a neighborhood that didn’t see much traffic.
    “Fireball?” He murmured softly.
    “What?” I replied quietly, defeated.
    Hesitantly, he asked, “Did I say something to make you sad?”
    I wasn’t going to mention the boyfriend thing.
    T here was no way.
    “Yes,” I whimpered.
    That’s just great, way to sound strong there, now he’ll have no reason not to pity you!
    “I’m sorry,” He said quietly.
    Well maybe ‘I’m sorry’ just isn’t good enough. The damage is already done!
    “Whatever.” I snipped.
    “What can I do to make it all better?” He murmured.
    “There’s nothing you could–” I began but was interrupted by him pulling me against his body. His arms encircled my waist, holding me tight. My arms instinctively bent upwards, hands firmly planted against his solid chest. Any resentment I had swiftly melted away as something brand new took its place: pleasure.
    Jesus!
    “What do you think you’re doing?” I asked him softly , his face was only a few inches from mine.
    “What do you think you’re doing?” James asked back, looking down at my hands on his chest. I slowly slid my arms up around his neck.
    I could not believe I just did that!
    “That’s better.” James murmured, huskily.
    Our bodies were plastered against one another . I felt a new kind of nervousness touch every single inch of my body.
    I t prickled electrically.
    “James,” I murmured softly.
    “Fireball,” He whispered back.
    “What do you think you’re doing?” I repeated , my brain felt frozen. My heart had stopped beating a mile a minute instead issuing slow, heavy beats.
    James uncurled one of his arms from my waist and trailed it along my back to the base of my neck, holding it firmly yet delicately. Blood