Page 51 of When Wrecked Meets Ruined
She sighed. “Just forget it. It doesn’t matter. It’s late, and I have to get going.” And just like that, she slid onto the hood and jumped to the ground.
Typical Evie. Running away. She reached for her backpack, but I grabbed it before she could and slung it over my shoulder.
“You haven’t even read it, have you?” she asked as we weaved through the junkyard.
Oh, ye of little faith. I snapped my fingers. “Hang on. Are you talking about the part where Cherry says she could fall in love with Dallas? And then she says something like… I hope I don’t see him again because I probablywillfall in love with him if I do. Is that the line you’re talking about, Cherry?”
She didn’t respond for a few seconds. Her throat bobbed on a swallow then she shrugged one shoulder as though it didn’t matter. But I knew better. “Maybe.”
“If I’d known that’s how you feel about me—”
“I don’t.” We stopped next to the fence, and she yanked out a thread from her shorts like it had done her wrong. I wanted to pull all the threads and watch her unravel. “They’re fictional characters. We were just talking about the book.”
“If you say so.” I looked out at the railroad tracks. “But it felt like we were talking about something else.”
“Trust me. We’re not.”
Sure, we’re not. “Now that you’ve seen me again,Cherry….” I took a step closer. “Have you fallen in love with me yet?”
“Sorry to burst your bubble but not even close.”
“That doesn’t stop you from wanting to kiss me, though, does it?”
“You’re all sweaty. Why would I want to kiss you?” Her lips parted, and she stared into my eyes as though she was searching for the answer.
“Because I ran four and a half miles for one kiss.” I closed the distance between us. “And I’m going to have to run the same distance to get home.”
“So you want me to take pity on you?”
“Not pity.” My gaze dropped to her mouth. I’d never fought so hard for a single kiss. “I want you to reward me for my efforts.”
“I never asked you to run here.” Her voice was hushed. I barely heard the words. I was too busy staring at her full lips. On the way her tongue darted out to lick them.
Her lips parted, and she looked up at me with a question in her eyes. As if to say,Are we going to do this or not?
We moved closer and closer until our mouths were only mere inches apart, and I could feel her soft breath with each inhale and exhale. I dipped my head, and I kissed her. Just a fraction of a kiss, a brush of the lips. But it felt electric.
I pulled back a little, and she wrapped her hands around my neck, pulling me against her. My hand twisted in her hair and the other one glided down and over her hip as my mouth crashed down on hers and my tongue delved into her mouth.
I groaned at the contact, and she moaned, her fingers digging into my hair, our kiss more urgent, deeper. I needed it like I needed the air I breathed.
Her back hit the fence, and she arched her chest into me, our tongues dueling, hands gripping. She nipped my bottom lip with her teeth. I kissed the corner of her mouth. She fisted my T-shirt, and I fisted her hair. She growled like a wild animal and dug her fingers into my skin.
I stroked the roof of her mouth, exploring all the deepest recesses.
I tasted her. Wild cherries and lost innocence.
I breathed her in.
We kissed until our lips were bruised and swollen.
Breathless, we broke apart and stared at each other.
She opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again and let out a shuddering breath. “What are we doing?”
No fucking clue. “It was just a kiss.”
“Was it?” she whispered.
