Page 57 of Collided

Right, of course. He must’ve seen many nipples, so it makes sense. He must’ve also touched them and kissed them.

Clearly, I know a lot, thanks to books.

“I should go home,” I suggest.

Heath drives me home in the rain that refuses to slow down. The pitter-patter of the rain is the only sound in the car. He parks on the side of the curb and shuts off the engine.

“Let's get inside,” he says.

I try to form the word ‘no’, but it doesn’t leave my mouth.

Taking our bags he runs to the porch. I follow him. Pressing a button on his keychain he locks the car and waits for me to unlock the door.

Stepping inside I leave the door open for him. “I’m going to change.”

He nods. His gaze doesn’t move to my chest that I’m hiding behind my bag. Still a tornado of warmth spirals in my belly.

Going up to my room I take a quick hot shower and change into something nice.

What are you doing? It’s not a date.

I cringe when I pick a cute dress that I haven’t worn since I bought it. I mostly wear jeans so I can carry cash, keys, and my phone without worrying about pockets.

Flipping through the hangers I decide on a simple white top and denim jeans that fit me tight. I brush my wet hair, so it looks tame and not frizzy. To look more presentable, I apply moisturizer on my face and lip balm. I contemplate mascara but decide against it at the end. I don’t want Heath to think I’m trying too hard. Especially after he’s seen my nipples.God, I’m not forgetting that ever.

When I get down, I find Heath in the kitchen, scrolling on his phone in boredom. The moment I enter the room, his hand pauses and his eyes run all over me like he’s seeing me in a new light. My stomach turns upside down. He stares at me, then clenches his jaw and averts his gaze from me.

He checked me out and he didn’t like what he saw.

That does something to my self-confidence.

Whatever. I know I’m not pretty, so it doesn’t matter.

I’m on Earth to read books. That’s the sole meaning of my existence.

“It’s getting cold,” he complains as he opens the bag and puts everything on the island, making himself at home even though it’s his first time here.

I walk deeper into the room and reach for his wings. “I can heat it,” I suggest.

“It’s fine.”

“Let me do—”

He directs a glare at me. “I like the crisp.”

A laugh bursts out of me and his gaze softens. Out of all the things in the world, I didn’t expect him to say that. It makes him normal.

The tones of my laughter fill the room while he remains stoic.

With a shake of his head, he starts eating. “It’s not funny.”

“I didn’t expect you to say that.” I stifle my laugh.

A dark look crosses his face, and his eyes look sharp as he slowly swallows. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“You can share if you want.”

He pauses in surprise, then recovers, and asks, “With you?”

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