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He cocks his head to the side and licks his lips. “You don’t wanna cross that line. You don’t wanna be stupid and steal my stuff or run your mouth off about my dick.”
Oh God, I’d forgotten about my careless, harmless little joke.
He knows.
How does he know?
“There are no secrets in this house. Not from me. Do you understand?”
“I –”
“Shh.” He puts his finger on my navy-blue painted lips. “Don’t talk. Just listen. I’ve been real nice to you. Real patient. I’ve been giving you passes because I can’t change history. I can’t change what happened at St. Patrick’s and if these little, childish games make you happy, then you can have your fun. I can allow you to have your fun.”
He lowers his eyes to look at my lips, which I realize are parted. I’m breathing onto his finger, misting it up as he continues, “But it’s getting a little annoying now. People who annoy me, make me angry. And you really don’t wanna make me angry, do you?”
I’m frozen.
He presses his finger into the plumpness of my lips, flattening my mouth, pushing against my teeth, probably smudging my lipstick.
“Be a good girl, Blue, and shake your head.”
I don’t. I can’t.
He’s never been this close to me. If I thought the bathtub was close, then I was crazy. This is close. This is hovering and looming. This is the definition of the word pervasive.
He’s everywhere.
His smell, his breaths, his voice, his heat and his skin. So much skin.
Then his whole hand captures my jaw, all while his finger is still on my parted lips. He puts pressure on my chin and forces me, makes me shake my head.
“Good. That’s good,” he murmurs. “I told you the first night I came back: don’t tempt me. Stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours.”
His soft tone hits me in the stomach. Right in the indentation of my navel, and I suck in a breath.
Zach notices.
He notices my heaving chest. I bet he also notices how my breasts are punching the fabric. They feel heavy to me. Heavy and dangling and… ripe.
God, and sweaty. Just like his torso, all ridged and corrugated with muscles.
It’s like we’re both suspended in this moment. Him with his eyes on my chest and me with my eyes on his face.
It’s wrong and it shouldn’t happen but it is happening and I want it to stop.
A second later, it does when a sound travels from down the hallway. I hear footsteps bounding, approaching. Someone is climbing the stairs.
The weird paralysis of my body breaks and my palms slip on the wall. Zach looks up at me, at his hand that’s still wrapped around my jaw.
“Let me go.” I look toward the stairs at the end of the hallway.
His reaction, however, is completely opposite to mine.
Amused, he says, “I don’t like your tone.”
My heart’s in my throat, my legs are shaking. “You’re joking, right?”
“Are you laughing?”
I grit my teeth. “Whoever it is, I don’t want them to see me like this. With you, okay? I can’t have anyone think that we have something going on.”
Zach frowns as if he’s genuinely bemused. “But we do have something going on.”
I throw another glance toward the stairs, wanting to push him off, physically. But I don’t want to touch him. Especially when he’s not wearing a shirt. I’m afraid to touch his skin.
“What?”
His eyes bore into mine. The blackness of them reaches out and almost consumes me. “You think about me all the time. I’m the only thought in your head. I make your heart beat faster, don’t I? I make your chest feel tight. You shiver when I’m close. Your pulse is fluttering on your neck. Tell me, did it flutter when he asked you out?”
I gasp; the bastard overheard everything.
Damn it.
And he’s right. He’s so fucking right but I don’t have the time to argue with him.
Zach chuckles humorlessly. “No secrets, remember?” He shakes his head once, slowly. “You wanna fall in love, huh? Let me tell you something about love, Blue. It hurts. Remember when you cut your palm and it was bleeding? It’s like that. Only the cut is in your heart and the blood never stops. In love, you bleed forever. Do you wanna bleed forever, Blue? I bet your heart is real fragile. I bet it cuts easily.”
Every part of my body is attuned to his words, especially my heart. The thing that bleeds in love, according to him. It’s beating like crazy.
Crazy, crazy, crazy. Like me. Why am I not pushing him away?
The sounds and laughter are growing closer and finally I get enough sense to say something. “Let me go.”
He smirks. “Say please.”
I fist my hands. “Please.”
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Getting serious, he continues, “And Blue? A town can handle only one bully and this town’s already got one.”
