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He takes my hand in his, brushing his thumb across my bare knuckles.
Holy crap.
It’s even bigger than I thought. My hand is swallowed up in his as he continues to graze my skin with the pad of his thumb over and over again as I struggle to breathe.
Is this real or am I hallucinating all of this? Did all the stress of the past few weeks send me into a full-blown mental breakdown? If that’s the case, I’ll willingly stay in this fictitious world for a little while longer. Maybe I’ll finally lose my virginity.
“I’ve never been kissed.”
Whelp. That settles it. I’m not losing my virginity anytime soon, especially to Wyatt. This better be a fever dream because I need to wake up and wash the red-hot embarrassment off of me.
“I-uhhh-That’s a joke.”
Please buy it. Please buy it. Please… wake up!
Wyatt’s smile deepens. His finger still stroking my knuckles, searing my skin with his touch.
“Well,” he says, leaning in again, his warm breath tingling the fine hairs on my neck as he hooks an arm around my waist. “I might be able to help with that.”
Full. Body. Shivers. Followed by a literal blackout.
When I come to, I’m flat on my back on a couch and Wyatt’s looking down at me, brow furrowed with concern as he dabs my forehead with a washcloth.
“What happened?”
I try to sit up but Wyatt nudges me back down.
“Easy,” he says, grabbing my hand as he continues to dab my head. “You blacked out. Had me and everyone else worried sick.”
I bite the inside of my mouth as I angle my head and see the small group of people congregating around a high table. They’re speaking in hushed tones but I have a decent idea of what they’re saying.
Poor thing’s never been touched by a man before. Just passed right out like a startled goat. Bless her heart. Probably never been near such a ruggedly handsome man like him.
Well, they wouldn’t be wrong. And I’m going to die with my virginity intact if my body’s response to a man’s touch is a complete shutdown and then reboot with a stomach ache.
Wait. My stomach grumbles. I haven’t eaten hardly anything all day. A cinnamon roll from Windy Brews and a few snacks I scrounged from my brother’s cabin. I’m. Starving.
I finally drum up the courage to look at Wyatt again. His gaze is as intense as before but there’s a softness there. Something caring and protective. My stomach flutters as I look down. He’s holding my hand, and I’m not unconscious. There’s hope for me yet.
“How long was I out?”
“Not long. A few minutes or so. Grabbed a damp cloth from the bar and then carried you over here. You came to not long after I set you down.”
He dabs my forehead with the washcloth but it does nothing to cool my heated skin.
“Doctor’s on the way,” a man says from behind Wyatt. “There’s a vicious storm on the mountain. Could hardly make out what he was saying through the thunder, lightning, and howling wind, but he said he’ll be here within the hour.”
No. Holy no. “Call him back. He does not need to come down for me.”
“He’s got another patient to see. Said he could swing by,” the man says. “No problem at all.”
It will be if he ends up dead trying to traverse dangerous mountain roads during some freak storm to see me. I need a sandwich, not a doctor.
Wyatt squeezes my hand. “You fainted, angel. I’m not taking any chances.”
Another brush of his thumb. His eyes scan my face, searching for any sign that I’m not okay. I’m not. I’m not okay with how my body’s rebelling against me. After all these years I thought I’d graduated from my crush on this boy. Man. I’m not sure Wyatt was ever a boy.
I clear my throat, trying to still my heart but the way Wyatt’s looking at me makes me lightheaded all over again. There’s so much tenderness and concern in his eyes. My cheeks feel like they’re on fire. My lungs refuse to fill with air as I try to remember the last time someone cared for me like this. Looked at me like this. But I’m coming up blank.
