Page 139 of Faking the Pass
My acrobatic little heart didn’t flip this time. It simply melted.
I bit my lip, staring at his lips. His mouth was so sensual, so sexy.
All of him was sexy.
And tall and big and muscular and gorgeous and…
Don’t kiss him, Rosie. Don’t. It’s only going to hurt more later if you do.
I wanted to do far more than kiss him. I wanted to consume him. I wanted to plaster myself to his awe-inspiring body and then melt and sink into his pores.
I wanted him to strip off my clothes and kiss me all over and make me shiver and scream the way he’d done so many times on the island.
I wanted him to love me the way I’d always loved him.
“Well, I appreciate you being all charming and making up that story about us in high school,” I said, blushing. “I could tell she really liked it.”
“I didn’t make up anything,” Presley murmured. “That story was a hundred percent true.”
What? Was he for real?
I blinked a few times, my breath picking up speed. “But… you broke up with me. You said I was a ‘flaky theater freak.’”
Presley’s head dropped back on his shoulders, and he let out a groan.
“You heard that?”
I nodded. “I heard it—loud and clear.”
“I didn’t realize you’d heard me. I’m sorry Rosie… that was just… something I said.”
“I know. And you wouldn’t have said it if you didn’t mean it.”
“Ididn’tmean it,” he argued. “I didn’t really think that. I never did. I thought you were brilliant. And you were an incredible actress, even then.”
“So why did you say that about me to your friends?” I asked, incredulous at his denial.
Taking my hand, he led me to sit on the edge of the bed and knelt in front of me so I wasn’t straining my neck to look up at him.
“They were asking me about the breakup, why I’d let such a ‘hot girl’ go, and I could just see from the looks on their faces, they were chomping at the bit for their turn, looking for a green light from me that they wouldn’t be stepping on toes or whatever.”
He paused for a moment, looking ashamed. “I couldn’t stand the thought of any of my friends dating you—it made me want to punch through a wall. I knew I couldn’t have you… but I didn’t want any of them to, either.”
My head was spinning from the topsy-turvy reframing of that horrible moment in the school hallway.
“It was really selfish of me, and I know I should probably apologize for it,” Presley said, “but I wasn’t sorry. I’m still not, to be honest—except for the part about you overhearing.”
“I don’t understand.” My voice was hollow with shock.
I shook my head, trying to dislodge the confusion.
“Why would you say you couldn’t have me?” I asked. “I was head over heels for you. And in case you don’t remember, you were well on your way to ‘having’ me. A few more weeks together, and you would have.”
“I remember,” he said. “Believe me, I remember all those times in my car and in your room when your mom was at work. And I wanted you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone in my life. But I couldn’t let it go there. If I had, I never would have been able to leave you.”
My mouth literally hung open, my brain whirling with this influx of new information.
“We were getting so close, and it was harder and harder to stop every time—at least for me,” Presley said.
