Page 38 of Chasing Stars
Her eyes glisten. She wipes at them and sniffles, not bothering to hold back her emotions.
“I’m okay,” I tell her, running my thumb along her jawline.
She sniffles and nods, her gaze drifting from my lips to my eyes. Nothing is holding me back now. Whatever has been building between us was just solidified with her confession. I lean in and so does she, our noses brushing together ever so slightly. I trace my fingers along her cheek, and my thumb lingers on her chin for a moment before tipping it toward my mouth. Her mouth is soft and warm in contrast to my salty, cool lips from the ocean water.
The rhythmic sound of the surf is a steady heartbeat, syncing with my own quickening pulse. I kiss her slowly, giving her every chance to pull away—but she doesn’t.I’ve waited for this.The kiss is soft, tentative, Jenna’s breath tickles my nose, until it deepens with the unspoken promise of something more—something we’ve both been wanting. Desire builds in my gut as I wrap my arm around Jenna’s hip, pulling her closer.I want more.And at the same time, I needslow.
Jenna drags her teeth on my lower lip, and she pulls away, a playful smile on her lips. She studies my face, memorizing every detail. “Finally,” she murmurs. Then she reaches up and swipes some dripping blood from my cheek. Jenna tips her forehead into mine and whispers, “We really should get this looked at.” I’ll do whatever she says—except that.
19
JENNA
Miles’s cheek is red and angry, with blood drying in small clots. A bruise has already started to blossom from his orbital bone to his cheekbone. I insist on taking him to the hospital or at least an urgent care, but Miles shrugs me off, putting the longboard on his roof rack.
“Miles, come on. You could need stitches,” I push, leaning against the driver’s side door with my arms crossed.
“No. I’ve wiped out before. Let’s just go back to my place and I promise to ice it,” Miles says, trying to pacify me. I think if not for that kiss that still has my lips tingling, Miles would be a lot grumpier.
“Fine,” I grumble. “But I’m driving. You could have a concussion.”
“From hitting my face? No. But it hurts like hell, so I’ll let you win.” He rolls his eyes and tosses me the keys.
Driving Miles’s car is easy, and I am surprised by how well I’m learning my way around Cape May. I make it there without GPS and without any help since Miles is resting his eyes. We’re back at his condo in ten minutes. I pull into his spot andunbuckle, reaching across Miles for my bag at his feet. He grabs my elbow. “Hey,” he says with a slow smile, opening his eyes.
“Hi.” I bite my lip, smiling back.
“Thanks. I’m sorry I worried you,” he croaks.
“You’re welcome.” We hold each other’s gaze for a moment before Miles leans in, cupping my cheek, and planting a soft kiss on my lips. When he pulls away, I immediately wish he’d come back. I sigh and lean my head on the headrest. Neither of us are in a hurry to leave the car. “We should probably go inside and clean that up,” I whisper, gesturing to Miles’s face.
“Yeah,” he rasps, his voice low. “It hurts.”
We climb the stairs to his condo, and I unlock the door. Pete hears us instantly and comes running. Miles fights him off. “Down boy,” he says.
I wonder if Miles has to tell himself that too. Seeing him wounded and vulnerable hasmywhole body feeling warm and awake. I ache to be close to him, but I know I need to reel these emotions in.
“Come on, let’s have a look.” I take Miles’s hand and lead him down the small hallway to the bathroom. I close the toilet seat and gently push him down onto it. “Do you have a first aid kit?” I tip his chin to the side, examining the cut.
Miles huffs out a laugh. “Do you know many guys in their forties who keep a first aid kit lying around?”
I shoot him a playful glare. “Band aids? Neosporin?”
Miles shrugs. “Check in those drawers or the medicine cabinet. There might be something.”
I step in front of him. Practically straddling him to reach the cabinet above. He holds my hips steady and the skin beneath my wet suit tingles. I grab a washcloth and lower myself back down, but Miles doesn’t remove his hands. We stare into each other's eyes, and it takes everything I’ve got not to climb onto his lap and press myself against him.I want Miles. Maybe more thanI’ve ever wanted anyone.I clear my throat, breaking the hold he has on me.
“Let me wet this,” I murmur, stepping out of his grasp. When I glance back at him, I can see that he’s hard.I’m glad it’s not just me that’s turned on.I turn on the water and soak the cloth. “Warm or cold water?”
“Cold. Please.” Miles clears his throat.
I turn off the water and then I’m back in front of him. “Put your head back,” I order.
“Yes, ma’am.” Miles smirks but does as he’s told.
I gently wipe the dried blood from his face. He winces and lets out a sharp hiss. “Sorry,” I whisper. Once I have wiped away the blood, I’m able to see that it’s just a surface wound. “Let me see what you have in these drawers.” I move away and start rummaging, finding some expired Neosporin and a few butterfly strips. I hold my treasures up to Miles. “It’s expired, but I think it’ll do.” I move back in front of him and his hands immediately find my hips again. He digs his fingers into them as if he wants me as close as possible. The feeling is mutual. I go to work, leaning in close and carefully dabbing along the two-inch gash. Miles’s breath warms my neck, and all my senses are heightened.
There is no denying this anymore. Whatthisis, I’m not sure. Maybe it’s a fling, maybe it’s more, but suddenly I desperately want to see it through. The feelings Miles evokes in me are like nothing I’ve felt before. I feel safe and cared for and wildly aroused all at the same time.
