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“What time’s your bus at again?” Johnny asked, voice deep and gravelly.
Shivering, I swiped a raindrop off my lip with my tongue before replying, “I get the half-five bus every day.”
“That’s over an hour from now.”
I didn’t respond. I just kept walking.
“Are you planning on standing around in the rain for an hour?” he asked, stepping in front of me and halting me in my tracks.
We were both like drenched rats from the downpour, and I had to avert my eyes to stop myself from admiring the way his wet hair clung to his forehead.
He had gorgeous hair. He had a gorgeous smell, too. One I couldn’t stop myself from inhaling as he stood far too close to me for comfort. Lynx deodorant, freshly cut grass, and boy all rolled into one.
Who was I kidding; he had a gorgeous everything.
When I dragged my thoughts back to the present and shrugged, Johnny let out an impatient growl, his piercing blue eyes burning holes through me.
“Come on,” he said gruffly. “I’ll take you home.”
Oh no. Sweet baby Jesus, no.
“No.” I quickly shook my head. “You’re grand.”
He arched a brow, getting all up in my personal space with his gigantic frame. “Why not?”
“Because you dropped me home,” I replied, taking a safe step back.
“So?” he countered, taking another step toward me.
“So, that’s enough.” I tucked my chin into my chest and tried to step around him. “Thanks anyway.”
Again, Johnny blocked my path, caging me in with his huge frame.
And just like before, I had to crane my neck up to look at him.
“You’d rather stand in the rain for an hour than take a spin from me?” he asked, eyes wild and heated. “Why?”
Because your on-again, off-again girlfriend may or may not want to cause grievous bodily harm to me. Because the first time I got in a car with you, it ended badly. Because the second time I got in a car with you, I almost told you secrets.
And mostly because the way you make me feel scares me.
When I didn’t respond, because I honestly couldn’t, Johnny let out another growl but this one sounded like he was frustrated. “Are you mad at me?”
“Mad at you?” I shook my head, eyes wide. “No, no, of course I’m not.”
“Then why are you being like this?”
“Being like what?”
“Avoiding me,” he said quietly.
“I’m not,” I lied. “I just… I just…”
“You just what, Shannon?”
I shrugged, at a complete loss for words.
He shook his head, dropped his bag on the ground, and then reached forward, swiping my schoolbag off my shoulders—both shoulders, and with minimal effort.
