Page 91 of Beyond the Lines
I’d thought that the moment had just been too overwhelming for someone who’s still clearly very fragile, but that when she simmered down a little she’d acknowledge the moment we had was… magical. But now I think that maybe I was wrong, and that she regrets it, and wants nothing to do with me.
She shivers, wrapping the blanket tighter around herself, and her breath comes out in little puffs that vanish into the dark. She starts to fumble with her top—a tank top that’s got no chance of warming her—but she seems to have left any sweater or jacket she had behind.
“Here.” I shrug out of my varsity jacket and hold it out. “Take it.”
She eyes it warily, like I might be offering her a live grenade.
“It’s just a jacket, Lea. Not a marriage proposal.”
That gets a tiny smile—barely there, but it’s something. She takes the jacket and awkwardly maneuvers into it while maintaining her blanket-shield with impressive dexterity. It’s not like I haven’t seen all of her before, in the bathroom or even just now at the party, but I give her the chance to bundle up.
“What do you want from me, Declan?” she asks once she’s bundled up. “Why are you being so protective?”
The words rise before I can stop them. “Because you’re mine.” I pause, realizing how possessive that sounds. “Or… I want you to be.”
It’s notquitethe speech I had planned for our project meeting, but it’s out of the bag now. I watch her face, hoping for—I don’t know what. A sign. Any fucking hint that she feels a fraction of what I feel when I look at her or talk to her orthinkabout her.
Instead, she scoffs, looking down at her feet.
And I’ve got my answer.
Just like that, whatever hope I’d been nursing since that moment in the bathroom shatters like ice on asphalt. I’ve decided I want her, and built up the courage to say so even though she’s ignored my texts and shown menointerest in return, and landed flat on my face.
I’m such an idiot.
What did I expect?
That she’d throw herself into my arms?
After everything?
“I get it,” I say, my voice embarrassingly rough. “I’ll talk toProfessor Lucas. Ask her to reassign one of us for the project. You can keep the jacket, I’ve got a few.”
She doesn’t respond, and I can’t bear to look at her face any longer. I turn away, mentally calculating the shortest route back to my apartment, where I can lick my wounds in private. I’ve taken exactly two steps when I feel her hand close around my arm.
Before I can react, she pulls me around, surges up on her toes, and presses her lips to mine.
nineteen
LEA
Well,I took a leap.
Not quite the one I was planning—sorry, Ben—but a leap, nonetheless.
Surging forward to kiss Declan, I expected him to reject me.
Instead, he kisses me like he’s been starving for weeks and I’m his first meal.
His hands slide inside the varsity jacket—his jacket—finding the bare skin of my waist. I gasp against his mouth as his fingers trail upward to my breasts, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Everything about this is a bad idea. Everything about this is exactly what I want.
“Lea,” he breathes against my lips. “What are we?—”
“Shut up,” I murmur, yanking him closer. “Don’t ruin it.”
A distant part of my brain is screaming that I should stop. That I spent a week actively avoiding this man. That I tried to draw him until I was over it. That I’ve tried to think of every reasonnotto do this. That I’ve tried to drink it away and flirt with someoneelse.
Didn’t I literally just spend an entire hour with Ben trying to forget Declan existed? And here I am, not even twenty minutes later, practically climbing him like a tree in public. There’s something clearly wrong with me, and the cure is him.
