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“We don’t know that. All sorts of things could have happened. I could have been hurt.”
“But they didn’t. And you weren’t,” he said.
“You did a good thing and I shouted at you. Accused you of hurting Ethan because you were jealous.” She pressed her lips together, looking regretful.
“I didn’t touch him.”
Her face pinked up. “I know that now. He lied. And I believed it.”
“Yeah, well, I’m used to people believing the worst about me.”
Her face fell. “I should have known better.”
“Don’t worry about it. My sister believed it, too. My brother would have if his friend hadn’t told him the truth.”
“But they shouldn’t,” Grace whispered. “They should always believe you.”
“I don’t care what they think.”
Her lips parted as she inhaled softly. “What about me?”
“What about you?” He was confused.
“Do you care what I think?”
Yes, he did. Too much. It was a fucking mess.
“I’m not allowed to care what you think,” he said carefully.
“Who says that?”
His jaw tightened. “Me. You. All of Hartson’s Creek.”
“Fuck them.”
He’d so much rather do that to her. That was the problem. He wanted to pull her hair, expose her neck, suck at her skin until she was calling out his name.
Wanted to bury himself inside of her until nothing else mattered. Wanted to feel her come around him like she did in New York.
“We’ve been so careful,” he told her. “Let’s not mess this up.”
She ran the tip of her tongue along her bottom lip and damn if he wasn’t entranced by it. “It’s already messed up, isn’t it? Every time I touch myself, it’s your face I see.”
The image of her laying in bed getting off on the thought of him was almost too much to bear. He felt himself thicken.
“Grace…”
“I assumed the worst about you because I wanted to. Maybe I wanted you to fight for me. Nobody else ever has.”
She took a step closer. He didn’t step away. Just watched her warily, his blood hot in his veins.
“If anybody ever found out…” His voice trailed off as she placed her hand on his chest. He could feel the warmth of her through his thin t-shirt.
She moved it down. Traced his muscles. And he stood as still as a statue.
Hard. Aching for her. Knowing this was wrong.
“I’m not scared of them finding out. I’m scared of never touching you again. Never feeling the way I do when you’re around.” Her voice cracked, and it killed him. “That night in New York is all I can think about.”
