Page 66 of The Illicit Play
The way he’s not saying anything, just being this unmoving anchor I can cling to…
Yeah, I could spend the rest of the day like this.
Except that I can’t.
Pushing away from him on limbs that feel like cooked spaghetti, I stumble back. He catches my elbow, steadying me, and I glance up at him.
Shit. I should have stayed in his arms.
Those eyes of his are asking questions I don’t want to answer.
Dipping my head, I lower my gaze, staring at the ground. It’s safer than his gorgeous face. I really do love his face, you know?
It’s so strong, his features carved from obsidian, withclean lines yet lips that look soft and yielding. I bet they feel great. I bet they could decimate a girl’s heart in a second. Or her senses, at least. I bet those masterful lips could send me right over the edge.
I steal a quick glance at them before darting my eyes back to the safety of the ground.
“Come on.” He takes my elbow again, his voice soft and gruff. “Let’s get out of here.”
I let him lead me back down the street, because I can’t argue with that sexy voice.
Seriously. What is wrong with me?
I should be running, but I’m letting him pull me to his car… his Jeep Wrangler. It’s an older model and looks like it’s seen a few years, been used to its full potential.
Crossing my arms, I wait on the curb while he unlocks and then opens the door for me. I’m starting to shake, and I don’t even know why.
Shit, I hate crying.
I must look like a total wreck right now. I know I have mascara smudged on my face. I probably look ready for a Halloween party. I’ll go as ghost girl.
Flipping down the visor, I check my reflection in the little mirror and grimace, quickly slapping it up again so I don’t have to look. Swiping a finger under my eyes, I try to clean myself up, but I’m probably just making it all worse.
“Here.” A small Kleenex packet appears in my lap.
Glancing to my left, I nod my thanks, my lips too heavy to form a smile.
This has got to be me at my worst.
Please let this be my worst!
Grady’s still nice enough not to say anything as we drive out of Nolan. I have no idea where we’re going, andI don’t even care. Wiping my face clean, I absorb the soft R & B music floating through the car. It’s a Beyoncé song, I think. I don’t know. I’m not really into music. I mean, I love dancing and getting a little wild, but?—
Do you?
Do you really?
My shoulders slump.
I don’t fucking know!
I don’t know anything anymore!
The thought makes my chin bunch, tears threatening to take me out again.
Don’t you dare!
I’m so done with crying today. I’m pretty sure I’ve clocked up enough tears to last me until Christmas.
