I take a deep breath and instantly regret it—his musky smell fills my lungs. The overpowering manliness in this small, confined space is lethal. I try to dodge the feelings drowning me.
“Did you figure out who called on you?” I ask while he’s watching me silently. “C’mon! Do you still think it’s me?” He doesn’t say anything but shakes his head. A minute passes. This is getting ridiculous. What the hell am I waiting for? “You know what? It’s getting late, and I have a lot to do. Is there anything else you need?” I ask. He’s quiet. “Right.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Time to go, Justin.” I gesture to the door.
“If I say it out loud—” He swallows, “It means I’ve been fucking the person who played a huge part in what had happened to my sister. For years. And I brought her around all this time…." His voice's quiet and hoarse. If I didn't know him better, I'd say he has a knot in his throat that can only be alleviated with tears. But I know better. Knowhimbetter.
"If you don't say it, it's still there," I tell him, pointing at his head. “It won’t go away simply because you don’t want to face it.” I spread my arms out. “Trust the person who tries not to talk about how fucked up her family is. Pretending the problem doesn’t exist has never canceled the fact that they still are.” I might try to avoid all conversations involving my sister and mother, but the facts remain. Their actions still impact my present. I pay for their mistakes. Quite literally. “No matter where I go, it seems like I will always be trailer trash.”
He winces at my words. Something flickers in his eyes, and suddenly, he's in front of me, a breath away. If I want to touch him, all I need to do is to raise my hand. "So, what do you want me to do? Shout about it from the rooftops?” His eyes are crazed.
“If it will help. You’ve been stuck in this limbo for how long? How long have you been dragging me into all of this?” My voice raises, and I poke his chest with my finger. “How long will it take for you to finally figure out that you’re the one who fucked up?” I’m almost yelling now.
Justin's chest is heaving like a bull ready to charge. His nostrils are flared, and his breathing is loud. His eyes dart between mine and then drop down...
To my lips.
I instinctively lick them. I can’t help it. I didn’t mean anything by it, I honestly didn’t, but he notices it. His tongue darts out to moisten his lower lip, and I’m a goner. My own breathing becomes fast and shallow. The air around us is electrified with expectations of the unavoidable, like the moment before the storm—you know it's coming. The air has changed, the silence is deafening, right before the lightning cuts the sky, followed by a punishing thunder.
And that moment of collision? It’s now.
Justin snakes one arm around my lower back and the other around my neck.
He pulls me in. I don’t have a chance to even take a breath before his lips are on mine. It’s so unexpected that I don’t know what to do.
Justin kisses me.
Justin Attleborough kisses me.
Justin Attleborough, the man I’ve crushed on since I was ten, is kissing me.
Justin Attleborough, the man I started to hate a few days back, is kissing me.
Justin is kissing me, and it’s happeningnotin a moment of hate. It might as well be the first kiss. The previous kiss doesn’t count. That one had happened as a result of shedding our egos. This one is happening because hewantsit to. I can feel it; his view of me has changed.
I don’t know what to do, so I stay still. He can tell and slows down a bit. He kisses the corner of my lips, and I feel his hot tongue probing it. By now, I’ve collected myself from the abyss I accidentally entered, and I bring my hands to his shoulders. It’s the only encouragement he needs, and he pushes his tongue between my lips. The hand around my back pulls me tighter to him, and I feelhimagainst me. He’s hard. And long. And pulsing. My own desperate need pools between my legs. It’s warm and swirling. It’s not butterflies. No, they’re pterodactyls circling in my belly.
I moan into his mouth, and the hand around my neck squeezes tighter. His fingers dig in, and they’re almost painful. I moan louder. His tongue dances against mine, driving me insane. I hear a groan, and I’m almost embarrassed that it’s me. But it’s not. It’s Justin. He stops the kiss and pulls away. He rests his forehead against mine, breathing hard.
My breathing matches his, and with every inhale, I smell him. I smell his musk and the residue of aftershave on his chin.
“Why did you do that?” I whisper, trying to regain control over my own body that's currently melting—quite literally, I might add, considering the pool in my pants—into a puddle at our feet.
His chuckle’s pained. “Because I finally can without hating myself.” He inhales deeply. “You smell so good. What is it?”
"I don't know," I say through a haze.
“What perfume do you wear?” His voice’s barely audible.
"I don't wear any," I whisper back.
He inhales again and groans, then he takes a step back. My face is flushed, and my palms are sticky. I subtly wipe them on my thighs when I notice that Justin is trying to discreetly fix the situation in his pants. My cheeks heat up even more. Oh boy, is that a situation! Now I see whytheykeep coming back for more. I avert my eyes, but not fast enough. Justin smirks at me. How arrogant of him… but there’s something different about it. It’s the first time he shows me the person he is with everyone else. It should make me happy, but it doesn’t. I feel like everybody else.
We stare at each other, not knowing what to say. The air, full of intensity and heat just moments ago, suddenly seems one hundred degrees chillier. It’s not like I can go anywhere—I’m home. And I can't ask him to leave for fear of him never coming back. Justin takes the hard decision off my shoulders and moves to the door. “Your car needs an oil change. I’ll stop by tomorrow at the diner to grab it for a few hours.” He steps out and leaves me with my mouth open. What the hell just happened?
ChapterSeventeen
KAYLA
The diner is unusually quiet the whole morning, and time moves at a snail’s pace. I yawn half the morning because I haven't slept well. Obviously. I played fake scenarios in my head. All. Night. Long. Like, what if I said that thing differently. Or this thing with a smile. Or if I pushed my butt against him, what would have happened?
