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“I’m only trying to protect you.”
“From what? Rumors? Schoolyard gossip?” I hesitated, unsure whether I should say the next word, but my frustration won out. “Kendall?”
Evan’s face gave nothing away. His mask was unwavering. I wanted to push, to make him tell me the truth, but all he said was, “Do you trust me?”
“I—”
Did I?
Could I?
I wanted to—wanted to believe that he really was trying to protect me—but a small voice in the recess of my mind refused to stay quiet.
“Becca.” Brushing his nose across mine, he kissed me softly, and I felt my last shred of doubt melt away. “Do. You. Trust. Me?”
Unable to reply, I nodded, letting him deepen the kiss. Evan’s lips were firm and powerful, like the weight of his body pressing me down on the Impala’s hood. I knew it wasn’t right—the way we kissed away our concerns, the way Evan kissed my questions into oblivion—but I couldn’t seem to stop.
He was like a drug… and I was teetering on the edge of addiction.
* * *
Evan drove me home,but I made him park down the street to avoid upsetting Mom further. He didn’t question me, but all the kissing and groping probably acted as a good distraction.
By the time I got inside the house, the flush staining my skin had about returned to normal, so Mom would be none the wiser. But she didn’t greet me like usual. Instead, she shouted a curt hello and left me to my own devices. I headed straight for my room, where the vibration of my cell phone filled me with a mix of excitement and dread.
You look good on the hood of my car.
My mouth curved into a wide grin as I flopped onto the bed, kicking my legs up behind me.
Thanks for tonight.
No problem. I meant everything I said.
I know.
So meet me in the janitor’s closet tomorrow at lunch?
My grin widened as I typed out a reply.
That depends…
On…
How persuasive you are. ;)
Ohhhh, I think you’ll find I can be very, very persuasive.
Heat pooled between my legs, and I rolled over onto my back, clenching my thighs together, wishing that Evan was here to show me just how persuasive he could be.
Good night, Evan.
Closet. Tomorrow.
What was I doing?
When Evan had shown up at the diner, I was set on not giving in to him so easily again, but then he’d waited for me, and my resolve crumbled. Something in him touched the broken pieces in me, and I couldn’t resist. It was more than a fleeting attraction or lust or circumstance. I was falling hard and fast, and I wanted to believe he felt the same. That I settled the storm in him just as he calmed the chaos in me. But being with Evan was a slippery slope, and I didn’t know how it would all end.
More importantly, did I care?
