Chapter 32

Rachel

I RELEASE A SHAKY BREATH as I pull into my school’s parking lot. One hour before the first bell, Worthington resembles a dystopian ghost town. I’ve trashed my morning routine, but it’ll either be really worth it or the resulting aftermath will send me into a panic attack never before seen by man. Only time will tell, but the mere thought of meeting with Isaiah is enough to force me out of my shell.

Bypassing every open spot, I turn down the one-lane road to the overflow lot and millions of butterflies spring to life in my stomach when I spot Isaiah leaning against his black Mustang. It’s seven-fifty in the morning. He’s early and he’s waiting for me. This is totally unreal.

I ease my car beside him and my hands tremble when I shift into Park and pull the keys out of the ignition.

Breathe. Air in. Air out.

Breathe.

Keeping the flow of air going, I fiddle with the keys in my lap. Driving here was the simple part. Simple. I wish I could make Isaiah and me simple.

I glance up, and he watches me through the windshield. The moment our eyes meet he holds up a white bag. The door feels heavy as I open it, and the cool morning air nips at my legs. As I approach Isaiah, I smooth out a lock of my hair and flatten my hands against my coat, then my skirt. I like him. He says he likes me. For the first time in my life, I really want to look my best for someone because...well, because I want him to see me as special.

In his worn blue jeans and a black T-shirt, the early-morning sun hits Isaiah just right, highlighting him like he’s a relaxed tiger bathing in the warmth. The light glints off his double rows of hoop earrings and there’s a twinkle in his eyes that makes me feel like he has a secret, but not the type kept from me. No, it’s the type that suggests I’m in on it, and that it involves a lack of my clothes.

And maybe some of his.

As if I spoke the thought instead of keeping it internal, Isaiah lifts his shirt to scratch at a spot right above his hip bone. Good Lord, he’s pretty. I soak in the sight of the muscles in his abdomen like I’m a plant in the Sahara Desert, except it doesn’t quench my thirst. It only causes my mouth to run dry.

Isaiah smiles like he knows what I’m thinking, and heat licks up my body and pools in my cheeks. What really causes my blood to curve into itself is the wicked gleam in his eye. It’s a spark that says he’s done very naughty things I’ve never even heard about.

“I brought food,” he says.

My stomach growls at the words and my head falls back because he had to hear it. God, why am I always a walking disaster? “I missed breakfast.” And the rest of my morning routine. “So this is awesome.”

The bag crunches in his hand when he holds it out and I step close enough to take it from him. My mouth waters as the scent of bacon, toasted carbs and sausage wafts into the air. I peek inside. “That’s a lot of food. Do you also eat small children as appetizers?”

“I didn’t know what you liked so...” He trails off and takes a sudden interest in the nearby football field.

I brush my bangs away from my face and have to force myself not to bounce. He bought me breakfast. I bite my lip to stop the smile, but then let it go. I’m happy and I don’t care if he knows. “Thanks.”

“S’all good.”

In the middle of the bag is a half-wrapped bagel with cream cheese oozing down the sides. It’s like I died and went to heaven. I pull it out and hand the bag to Isaiah while motioning at him with the bagel. “Do you want some of this?”

“Not a bagel guy.” Isaiah chooses a breakfast sandwich that’s more meat than biscuit. I break off parts of the bagel and eat them while he bites into his. Everything about us is different, yet from what little I know there are some things that are the same—like how we love cars.

But that’s probably the problem. I don’t know him. He doesn’t know me. I like what I’ve seen. I like most of what I’ve experienced with him, but is it enough? Halfway through one side of the bagel, I lick my fingers and wrap it back up. “I’m sort of a mess.”

Isaiah slows down his chewing, and I watch as he swallows. “I have to say that is the first time a girl has used that as a come-on line.”

I laugh without thinking then slam my hand over my mouth because it shocks me that it popped out. “I wasn’t coming on to you.”

His eyes linger way too long where my uniform skirt ends above my knees. “You sure about that? Because those legs are telling me something different.”

My knees rub together as I shift. I have never been as aware of my body as when I’m around Isaiah. My outside, my insides, everywhere—even places I never thought much about before. Places that sort of wake up in his presence. “I was trying to tell you something. Something important.”

Isaiah tucks the rest of his sandwich in the bag and places it on the hood of the car. I still hold the bagel and it becomes that obvious thing in my hand that I don’t know what to do with. Nerves have tightened my throat, making finishing it impossible, but there’s no way I’m trashing it. Isaiah brought it for me.

Playing mind reader, Isaiah holds out his hand. “It’ll stay warm in the bag.” I hand the bagel to him and he asks, “So what are you trying to tell me?”

Why couldn’t I have just been happy eating the bagel? “I’m complicated.”

He shrugs like it’s no big thing. “So am I.”

“No.” My fingers close into a fist. “My family is really, really...” Messed up. “Complicated.”

“You told me that,” he says. “At my apartment.”

Yeah, I did.

“Are you in danger at home?” he asks.

“No,” I answer immediately. “They just expect a lot...from me.”

He nods like he gets it. “Will seeing me be a problem?”

While there’s this overwhelming voice screaming yes in the back of my mind, there’s a smile twisting on my face and I bring my hands together in front of me, feeling suddenly shy. Did he just say...? “So we’re seeing each other?”

Isaiah touches an earring. “Yeah. I guess we are.”

My head bobs back and forth because I so need more. “Like more than friends?”

“We can be friends if you want. But...”

“But what?” My stomach begins to plummet. Did I misread all of this?

His gray eyes bore into mine with an intensity I’ve never seen from anyone before. “But I want more.”

“More?” I whisper.

“I want to kiss you again.”

A heat wave crashes into my body and I tug at the collar of my winter coat. I could take this thing off and probably still sweat. The memories of his mouth moving against mine and how his hands pressed into my body flood my brain. I lick my lips in anticipation. I crave for him to kiss me again, but... “Are you going to call me after?”

A small grin plays on his lips. “You aren’t going to cut me any slack, are you?”

It’s like he’s begging me to tease him, and without thought, I slide back to the braver girl at the bar. “Is that a problem?”

He shakes his head. “Not from you.”

Isaiah pushes off his car and invades my personal space. His dark scent envelops me and my heart literally trips several times as it tries to continue to beat. Even though he doesn’t touch me, it’s like Isaiah is everywhere. Only centimeters separate us, but his warmth surrounds me like a bubble.

I have to force myself to lift my chin to look at him. His gray eyes soften, and there’s this playful aura to him, accompanied by a devious tilt of his mouth.

“I feel like a mouse with you,” I whisper. “The one that’s already been caught by the cat.”

That’s when he touches me. Isaiah runs his hand through my hair, and every cell in my body vibrates with the gentle pull. “Rachel.”

“Yes.” It’s hard to breathe.

“Kiss me.”

Isaiah doesn’t wait for my answer. Instead his lips meet mine and his arms wrap around my body. All the hesitancy I felt the first night we kissed evaporates like mist on the heels of a summer storm. Within seconds, our mouths open, and Isaiah slips his tongue against mine. I get lost, liking the way my body curves around his, liking the way my hands explore as if they have a mind of their own, and loving how Isaiah grips my hair while tracing my spine.

Tingles and shock waves and earthquakes and hurricanes. All of it takes place at the same time as our mouths move not nearly fast enough. Nothing seems fast enough. The closer I become, the closer Isaiah presses, and the more he presses, the more I want to crawl inside and live in this delicious world of warmth and fantastic hunger.

Isaiah hooks an arm around my waist, and I suck in a breath when he turns us and shifts me up against the door to his Mustang. My eyes widen and I stare up at him as he stares down at me. Our chests move in unison, as do our breaths. My fingers curl into the muscles of his arms, and I briefly close my eyes, loving how his body fits into mine.

As much as I love it...this is so, so new. “That was a pretty awesome second kiss.”

“I agree. How about a third?”

I giggle, and that rare genuine smile spreads across his face.

“How about we try out our third kiss somewhere other than my school’s parking lot?”

Isaiah rubs that sensitive spot on my shoulder right near the curve of my neck. “I think that sounds like a plan.”

I glance over at the main parking lot and note that cars have begun to fill the first few rows. As much as I wish this moment could last forever, it can’t. Especially when I have two brothers who would lose their minds if they caught me like this with Isaiah. “I don’t know what to do about my family.”

“You like me, right?”

I nod.

“That’s all that matters. Let’s figure this out, pay off Eric, and then we’ll tackle the rest.”

The blood drains from my face at the mention of Eric and I slip my hands down from his shoulders to wrap around his stomach.

As if knowing that Eric haunts me, Isaiah brings his arms around me, creating this protective blanket. I rest my head on his solid chest and listen to the sound of his heart. I could get very used to this.

After a few seconds, Isaiah kisses the top of my head. “I’ll keep you safe.”

“I trust you.” I regretfully slide away. “You’re going back to school, right?”

“Yeah.” Isaiah pulls out the bagel and I take it as the need to bounce again returns. “Go on to class, Rachel. One of us shouldn’t break all the rules.”

“I think I’m a rule breaker,” I say. “I mean, I did drag race.”

Isaiah chuckles. “You’re gangster for sure.”

With a silly smile plastered on my face, I retrieve my backpack from the passenger side of my car and wave at Isaiah before walking away.

Midway across the student lot, my phone rings, and I have to juggle the bagel in order to reach it before the call goes to voice mail. Quickly swallowing a piece, I answer. “Hello?”

“Hey, Rachel?” Isaiah says.

I spin around and in the distance I can spot him leaning against his car again. “Yes?”

“I called.”

Joy blossoms through me, from my toes up into the rest of my body to the point that I look down to see if I’m flying. “Yeah, you did.”

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