Page 26 of Isla

I like that much better.

"Because it's sitting at the right hand of the devil."

"You son of a bitch." I throw the wad of foil at him, laughing when it pings off his forehead.

Three hours later,he's still working on the bike, and I'm bored as hell. Dylan and Henry are helping at Jack's, and I refuse to leave Theo here alone while he's working on my bike for free. I scroll through all the gossip sites, catching up on the celebrity tea, and then move on to an e-book I've been trying to read for the past two months. After ten minutes of reading the same paragraph repeatedly, I decide to pull my car out of the garage and give her a good cleaning. I start on the inside, using the shop vac to clean out any stray debris, and then wipe down the seats and dashboard with a specialty cleaner. When I finish the inside, I unlace my boots and strip down to my bike shorts and tank top. I drag the hose out of the garage, hook it up to the spigot on the side of the house, and attach the sprayer. I resist the urge to drench Theo as I spray her down, then I dunk a sponge in soapy water and get to work cleaning off the grime. By the time I'mready to rinse her off, Theo is starting up the bike and taking her for a test run. I forget the sprayer in my hand as he pulls back into the driveway, looking sexy as hell. Water pools around my feed as he parks and cuts the engine, silence enveloping us.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer."

Heat floods my cheeks, and I give in to my impulses, tilting the spray up until it's aimed squarely at his face. I realize my mistake when he launches himself at me instead of running away, tackling me around the middle and twisting underneath me as we fall. I shriek, losing my grip on the hose. I struggle against him as water rains down all around us, successfully pushing away from him until I'm straddling his stomach.

"Hey. Look up," he says softly. I follow his gaze to find a neon rainbow stretched over us, shimmering in the sunlight. "Beautiful," he murmurs, his eyes on me. My heart jumps to my throat as he threads his fingers through mine, the intimacy of the moment making it hard to breathe. I can't look away from how his eyelashes are sticking together in tiny points, the way his teeth sink into his bottom lip, the steady pulse in the hollow of his throat, the way I want to lick–

"Isla." My gaze collides with his, my heart galloping in my chest.

"You have a booger," he says, reaching for my face. I smack his hand away and roll off him, ducking down to look in one of the side mirrors. Nothing. "You're such a fucking ASSHOLE!" I scream, grabbing the bucket of soapy water and dumping it over him.

He pushes to his feet, water still pouring down his face, desire radiating in waves from his body. "Tell me you like to be tamed," he says, practically begging, his voice like sandpaper.

"Not by you, you goddamned twatwaffle,” I lie. I turn on my heel, grabbing my belongings before heading down the path down to the cottage.

He grabs me from behind, his arms twining around my stomach.

“You’re a terrible liar.” I suck in a breath as he traces a wide arc around my nipple. “Your nipples ratted you out.” His breath ruffles the tiny hairs on my neck, making a shiver race down my spine. “Would you let me tie you up, control you, worship you?” I lock my knees, fighting the urge to sag against him as his fingers brush the waistband of my shorts. I break away from his hold, struggling not to look back at him as I walk down the path.

"I'll meet you back up there in twenty," I call. "You owe me dinner."

12

The butterflies in my stomach make my hands shake as I strip off my wet clothes and hop in the shower. I should text Theo and cancel dinner. This thing between us is too volatile. We're polar opposites hurtling toward each other, doomed to explode on impact. Instead of texting him, I take the shortest shower of my life and stand in front of my closet dripping wet, trying to decide what to wear for what suddenly feels like one of the most critical moments of my life. What do you wear to try to avoid a pre-destined collision? My gaze slides to the back right corner of my closet where a pile of giveaway clothes has been sitting for months. I pull on a pair of baggy sweatpants and a gigantic purple hoodie emblazoned with my high school mascot–a rearing unicorn–on the back. I look at myself in the full-length mirror hanging on the back of the bedroom door and start to doubt myself. I look ridiculous. Which is exactly what I’m going for, I remind myself. I pull on my tennis shoes and head outside before I chicken out.

I realize my colossal mistake when I see Theo pacing by the garage, hands in the pockets of tailored wool trousers, the collar of a quarter zip sweater framing his jaw, sleeves pushed up. I definitely don’t pay any attention to the veins riding over his forearms. Mycheeks flush as his gaze sweeps over me, one dark eyebrow slowly rising.

"I–I should go change," I stammer, plucking at my sweatshirt nervously.

"Don't." He bites his lip, the corner of his mouth twitching.

"Theo–"

"Are you comfortable? Warm?"

I nod.

"That's all that matters." He enters the code into the keypad, then steps back. "I know what you're doing." He glances at me over his shoulder.

"What's that?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. He heads into the garage and wheels the bike out, ignoring my question.

"Do you have a hair tie?" he asks, handing me a helmet. I nod, handing it over, utterly confused. I can feel the heat of his hands through my sweatshirt as he turns me away from him. I shiver as he rakes his fingers through my hair, gathering it into three sections and then braiding it.

"You decided on wearing the most hideous outfit possible because you think it'll stop whatever this is between us from happening. The only problem with that is I'm interested in what’s up here." He taps the top of my head and then fastens the hair tie at the end of my braid, turning me to face him. "Everything else is just a bonus." He takes the helmet from me, holding my gaze as he slides it down over my head. "Did I finally figure out how to calm that razor-sharp tongue?" he asks, his smile widening when I can’t think of what to say.

"Theo," I croak, my heart in my throat. Our eyes lock, the moment thick with inevitability. "We can't stand each other," I whisper, desperate to get us back on solid ground.

"Stop lying to yourself, Isla." He squeezes his hands into fists at his side, a muscle twitching in his jaw.

"Are you mad at me?" I ask, trying to decipher his body language.

His laugh is devoid of humor. "Mad?" He holds his palm up,showing me the dark crescents in his skin. "Mad with desire, maybe. It's taking everything in me to keep from reaching for you."

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