Page 87 of Collision
“Hey, I can give you a hand if you want. I love packing.”
“Don’t worry, I have everything under control,” he tells me, standing up and burying his hands in his pants pockets.
“Oh, okay. See you this evening, then?”
“Yes, I’ll see you later.” He kisses me on the cheek gently and we say goodbye.
After my last class of the day, I walk off campus headed for the bus stop, when suddenly a hand grabs me, pulling me backward. I almost lose my balance but two muscular arms prop me up.
“You are so uncoordinated.” A tattooed man with emerald eyes smiles at me.
“Thomas, what are you doing here?” I give him a dazed look.
“I’m out for a walk.” He brings a cigarette to his lips and lights it before looking at me. “And you’re coming with me.”
What? This morning he stormed out of the café and now he wants me to leave with him? I’m afraid I’ll never be able to keep up with his mood swings.
“Actually, I’m going home.”
“Don’t be a buzzkill.” He blows out a cloud of smoke. “Let’s get a change of scenery. I promise to get you home by curfew,” he teases me with an angelic expression that doesn’t suit him at all.
“But what about your classes? Practice?”
“No practice today, and Professor Thompson was my last class of the day.”
“Good for you. But I’m working tonight, so sorry but I’ll pass.”
“What time do you start?” he asks point-blank.
“Six-thirty.”
“You’ll be there by six-thirty.”
“Thomas, I’m serious. I don’t feel right about it…”
“Because?”
“Because I know what you’re trying to do, and I have no intention of—”
“Ness,” he interrupts. “I’m not trying to get into your pants. I just want to spend some time with you.” He circles an arm around my waist and moves closer. My heart leaps into my throat, and I nearlystop breathing. He peers intensely into my eyes and, with the hand that holds the cigarette, he brushes aside a strand of my hair that has fallen over my left collarbone. “I’ve missed you, stranger.”
And this is how weeks of self-control, determination, and Herculean efforts to repress my emotions crumble. The warm, seductive way he says these words makes me falter for a few moments. Until the little voice in my head reminds me that he must have really been missing me every time he stuck his tongue in someone else’s mouth. That thought alone is enough to bring me back to planet Earth.
“I didn’t miss you at all.”
“Liar.” He quirks a corner of his mouth smugly.
Arrogant as ever. Without giving me a chance to consider his proposal, he hands me a helmet.
“What is this?” I ask with a grimace.
“Probably a helmet, don’t you think?” he replies teasingly.
“Yes, I get that. But what am I supposed to do with it?”
“Wear it. Let’s leave with her.” He points to an aggressive-looking black motorcycle parked a few feet away from us.
I burst into hysterical laughter and hand the helmet back to him. “No way. It’ll rain gold from the sky before I get on that thing.”
