Page 11 of Say I'm Yours
Cookies.
Beef Jerky.
M&M’s.
Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups.
A jar of Nutella.
I know I’m missing a lot more. I plan for her to have to roll me to bed. I have a lot of feelings that need to be eaten, but when I reach the spot where my go-to snack is usually stocked, I find bags of dried fruit. Grimacing as I put the offensively healthy food back on the shelf, I turn and yell over my shoulder. “Ma! Where are the—”
“You lookin’ for these?” A deep voice vibrates from behind me as my favorite candy appears before my eyes.
The hair on the back of my neck raises and my pulse quickens. I haven’t seen him in weeks. I’ve done well at avoiding him, and four words was all it took for my body to respond.
“Thanks.” I take the bag of black licorice from him, keeping my back turned. “I couldn’t find them.”
“Emily’s in town, I saw her car and figured what you might be up to,” he explains.
“Yeah?” I don’t want to look at him. I don’t need to because I see him perfectly in my head. My unwillingness to face Trent doesn’t stop him from moving closer to me, and I know that if I lean back a little . . . just a smidge, I would feel all of him. But we’re done, and that would be irresponsible. My hand clutches the wooden shelf in front of me, and I tighten my grip. I need to hold on to something that isn’t Trent.
“I know you can’t be without your licorice.” His lips graze my ear when he speaks, and my grip tightens.
“I’m surprised you remember.”
Trent laughs and the sound travels through me. “I know everything about you, sweetheart.”
My eyes close and I force my knees not to give out. I’ve missed him. I hate that I’ve missed him.
He makes me weak.
He makes me stupid.
He makes me love him.
I turn slowly to see Trent looking at me with an unreadable expression. “You know my favorite candy; I’m not sure that counts as everything.”
Trent’s hand rises as he pushes the hair off my forehead before moving to cup my cheek. “I know much more than that, Gracie.”
“Like what?” Part of me wants to challenge him because he doesn’t know me. Or if he does, he doesn’t care about me.
“I know that you love me.”
“Wrong. Try again.”
He gives me that crooked grin I love so much. It’s a little cocky and a lot of sexy. It makes me do dumb things like think about his lips on mine, which would be really bad.
“I know that you hate the word marshmallow,” Trent says, making me shudder. I really hate that word. “I know that you dothateach time someone says it. I know you talk in your sleep, you hate spiders, and you write in your journal but pretend you don’t. I know you claim you didn’t keep your Miss Bedford County tiara and yet it’s on the top shelf of your closet. I know that you wear it when you feel like you’ve eaten too much food, but I don’t know why. One day you’ll tell me, though.”
Asshole.
“I know that when you’re tired or feel like punching me in the face you bite your lip.” His thumb pulls on my bottom lip. “I know when you’re nervous, you do this.” He brings my hand between us. “You dig your thumb nail into your palm.”
I tear my hand away and try not to let his touch affect me. My skin burns where we had contact, and I crave more. “You forgot the part about where I want to be someone’s world.”
His eyes soften, and his hand moves down to hold my neck. I feel his thumb on my jaw, the way the callous rubs back and forth causes the pit in my stomach to grow. His body closes in, but he doesn’t look away. “You forgot the part where you already are.”
I shake my head, trying to make this stop. “Not yours.”
