Page 4 of Jagged Line Paradise

“Can I just say something?” he asks.

I nod, though I don’t reply.

“I want to get the fuck out of here. I want to move somewhere, far away from this bullshit town and this drug-infested neighborhood. I’m eighteen now. We graduated weeks ago. But I’m still here. Aren’t you curious why I haven’t cut and run yet?”

I lift my head to look at him. I think I know what he’s saying, and I hope I’m right, but I don’t want to say it out loud and be wrong. So, I wait. I let silence fall between us.

He looks down, his teeth catching his lip ring as anxiety washes over his features. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen Andrés anxious before. It makes my stomach tighten in knots that pull a desire-fueled feeling low in my gut.

He lets out a long, slow breath. “I’m still here because the thought of leaving without you makes my heart feel hollow.”

“Andrés—”

“I don’t want to leave without you, Lonnie.”

He’s the only person who has ever called me Lonnie and probably the only person who ever will. Because the way that he says it makes my heart jump in my chest, my stomach tighten, and my muscles clench. I don’t think anyone else could make me feel that way with just a nickname.

“I…” I don’t know what to say. “I don’t want you to leave. I want you to stay here. With me. But—” I turn my head to look back down at my dangling toes again, unable to take the dark intensity of his stare.

“But what?”

“But I can’t ask you to do that. Leaving here is your dream.”

I feel his fingers sneaking into a long strand of my ginger-colored hair and I gasp as I feel it brush over the bare skin of my neck.

What is he doing?

Why ishe doing it?

“I have more than one dream,” he says quietly. He combs his fingers through a section of my hair, dragging all the way down to the ends.

I gasp as his knuckles drag over my shoulder, all the way down my arm. His hand keeps moving, even after my hair has fallen from his fingertips, moving gently over my skin until he reaches my hand that still grips the bluff’s edge.

I grip it a little tighter as I become inexplicably light-headed. I’m suddenly afraid I might topple over the edge. My lungs work double time, taking in quick, shallow breaths.

I’m going to hyperventilate if I don’t get it together.

I don’t dare move.

I can’t move.

I’m afraid to move because this breathless, hopeful, tingling-in-my-toes kind of feeling is too precious and rare and new—and I don’t ever want it to stop.

I gasp when I feel Andrés’ touch against my bare shoulder and at first, I think he’s leaning his head against me. That wouldn’t be anything new between us. But when I feel the metal of his lip ring press into my skin as he layers slow, soft kisses across my shoulder, I know that everything is about to change.

I want the change he’s leading, but I’m afraid. I’ve never had a boyfriend. I’ve never been on a date. I’ve never even been kissed. I know these feelings he’s stirring within me are real and true. It’s not the first time I’ve wanted him in that way…I just never thought he would wantme.

I turn my head toward him, but he doesn’t move away. His lips trail over my shoulder and into the side of my neck. I inhale deeply, catching the sweet but strong scent of citrus in his hair and an unintentional hum of approval slips out from between my lips.

He lifts his head to look up at me and our eyes meet with our faces close, our noses nearly touching. He’s panting, waiting, watching for me to give him the opening and my heart hammers hard against my ribcage.

I’m terrified, but I want this.

I want him tokiss me.

It’s hardly perceptible, but I nod, giving him the okay. He tilts his head, licks his pillow-plump lips, and moves in closer.

I’m rigid as his hand finds the side of my neck, slipping upward to grip my jaw. But then I melt against his touch. He heats me from the inside out, his touch hotter than the scorching desert sun.

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