Page 88 of Catch the Sun

“If I’ve given you any reason to believe my thoughts veer in a more frolicsome direction, I truly apologize. I’m ashamed.”

Sighing, I run my tongue along my top teeth. “Presumptuous of you to assume I’d be interested.”

“You would be.”

“What makes you so sure?”

She faces me and arcs a brow. “You’re an eighteen-year-old straight male. And despite my laundry list of personality flaws, I’m not a monstrous ogre. Physically, I’m at least a six-point-five. Maybe a seven.” She shrugs again. “Also, you’re staring at my boobs right now.”

My gaze shoots back up. “You have a little mole on your chest. I’ve always thought it was cute. It’s shaped like aT. rex.”

Ella fidgets, bouncing from foot to foot. “Fine.” She clears her throat, glances up at the ceiling. “Seven-point-five. For the intriguing dinosaur mole. But that’s where I tap out.”

A grin spreads and I catch the way her gaze falls back down and settles on my mouth for a beat. She swallows, flicks her eyes up to mine, then swivels around and runs away from me.

Again.

“Ella. Come on.” Begrudgingly, I chase her down for the third time as she glides across the room to make her bed. I watch her gather the giant blanket on the floor and drape it over the mattress. “You can’t just drop that bomb on me and pretend nothing has changed.”

“Nothing has to change. I was just being honest.”

“I like your honesty. But honesty usually comes with a follow-up conversation. You just said you wanted to have sex with me.”

She fluffs her pillows, smacking them multiple times until they’re the opposite of fluffed. They are now flattened, cotton pancakes at the head of her bed. “I didn’t say that. I saidifI wanted to sleep with someone, it wouldprobablybe with you. But I also told you I was dying a virgin, so do the math.”

I stare at her for a few beats, processing the situation. Doing the math.

The math is in the way she leaned out my truck window and bared her soul to me, crying while our hands locked together, her heart bleeding out of her as I picked up the pieces and kept some for my own safekeeping.

The science is in the way she melted against me at the concert with my favorite songs alive in the air, filling me with hope and promise.

The chemistry is in the way she lights up, brighter than any Taurid meteor shower, every time our eyes meet.

I’m good at math.

The math only adds up to one thing.

I come up behind her until my torso is nearly flush with her spine. Startled, she whirls around, her palms flying up and gently splaying across my chest. She doesn’t back away. She gazes up at me with wide, curious eyes, waiting for me to speak.

I school my expression to stay passive. I keep my racing heart in check and do everything I can to keep the quiver out of my voice. “Well…you were right about one thing,” I tell her, bending slightly until my lips brush the shell of her ear. “I would be interested.”

Fuck it—I might as well be honest, too.

She trembles, inhaling a sharp breath, fingers curling and pressing into the hard planks of my chest.

Ella loves to pretend she’s unaffected by me, despite the hand-holding, theheated looks, the compliments and flirting. Her aloof disposition serves as acoping mechanism, gives her power, and it keeps her in survival mode. Because of that, I’ve respected her brush-offs and stone walls. I let her pretend because that’s what she needs to get by.

But she can’t pretend right now.

I feel her skin heat. I see her eyes hood. Her breaths are coming quicker and her chest is heaving up and down with anticipation. She’s responsive.

She feels me. Everywhere.

Leaning in closer, I murmur, “You were right about that, but you were wrong about something.”

Her eyes flutter closed. “What’s that?” she asks breathlessly.

I place a soft, featherlight kiss on her temple, drag my lips down her cheek, then whisper in her ear. “You’re a fucking ten.”

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