Page 55 of Withered

“You get scared easily,” he retorts, rolling his eyes.

“We’re in the woods. For all I know, there could also be a vampire on the run.” I realize how stupid that sounds, but I don’t care.

He throws his head back and laughs, the voice creating an amazing mixture with the water in the background.

I slap my forehead and reply with gritted teeth, “You weren’t supposed to laugh.”

He straightens himself. “There is only one vampire here, and he’s standing right in front of you.”

“Oh really?” I play along with him.

“And he is quite good at the blood-sucking thing too,” he says this, crossing the distance between us in slow, long strides.

He places his hand on my cheek and traces my lips with his thumb. My pulse quickens, and my breath comes out heavily. I’m still in my undergarments while Jake is dressed. We stare into each other’s eyes, no one daring to even blink. His eye color matches the surrounding trees, and they look as deep as ever—a never-ending depth of green.

He puts his arm around me and pulls me to him, and I can feel his every muscle because of my lack of clothing. Leaning in closer, he dips his head and brushes his lips over mine in a tease, then over my jaw and settles at my neck.

I feel my knees weaken, so I put my hands on his shoulder and clutch his shirt tight in my fists while he glides his tongue over the hickey and bites on it.

“J-Jake, don’t. It’s going to leave a mark,” I manage to express my thoughts.

The air around us has taken a passionate turn, and everything is so hot suddenly.

His deep chuckle vibrates through me. That tingling sensation is back between my legs, and I clutch them tighter. Whatever he’s doing, even a slight flick of his tongue is enough to drive me crazy. I moan as my eyes roll at the back of my head, making it difficult to keep them open. Once he is done, he bites my lower lip and nibbles on it for a second.

He pulls back, and I open my eyes to find a smirk on his face. My cheeks burn in embarrassment, and he taps my nose. I most certainly must look like a tomato now.

I hate it when my dad flicks my nose, but I find it cute when Jake does it.Am I going crazy?

This was a friendly date to get to know each other. We did have fun, but all we did was kiss. There are so many things I want to ask him and know about him, but I don’t want to ruin the moment.

For the past few hours, he hasn’t done anything to make me scream at him, leaving some moments where he was rude and arrogant. I guess we could go around without screaming at each other.

Even though I’m happy with how the day is going, the most important question won’t stop popping up.What are we doing? Who are we? Is he just using me?

I’m too scared to ask him. We would end up fighting like the last time, and I don’t want it to happen again. If he becomes upset now, he is very likely to abandon me here. So I decide to stay until we arrive home.

Jake turns around and leaves me to get dressed. I untie his shirt from my waist and get changed hurriedly, tying my hair in a bun. My phone reads 1:45 p.m.Wow, time flies by. I ignore the messages and throw my phone in my clutch.

We get to his car, and he opens the door for me. This time, I don’t taunt him and get in silently. He moves around and gets in the driver’s seat. Jake reverses the car, and we’re back on the road. He drives in silence while I enjoy the view.

He shifts the gear, and my breath hitches when he suddenly places his hand on my thigh. I’m taken back to last night when he purposefully did that; it feels like months now, and I cannot believe it. We went from strangers to fighting to getting all physical.

I catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye, and he is busy driving. He slowly starts tapping his fingers, creating a rhythm and making me weak. The warmth of his hand can be felt through my pants as if someone lit a fire there; the heat is seeping in. My stomach decides to grumble at this exact moment.

Jake chuckles, and my cheeks burn in embarrassment.

“I was about to ask you if you wanted to go home or grab something. I have my answer already.”

Jake stops at a café not far from our house. This is the old part of the town, with busy streets and historic buildings. I have been to this part of town very often but never spotted this café namedCoffee, Cake, and Love.

Jake opens the door for me, and the bell above chimes. I’m instantly greeted by the aroma of coffee mixed with a faint scent of vanilla. It’s a British-style café with plain yellow walls and bricks.

The inside of the café is bright with warm lighting, giving it a friendly and cozy vibe. Several pictures of England hang on the wall, and there is also the classic red telephone booth in the corner.

The place is packed with people of different ages. On my right are regular tables with chairs, and on my left are bar stools and high tables.

Jake leads me to the right, and we settle ourselves near the booth. I fold my hands on the pink and white tablecloth as he sits across from me. The wooden chairs are more comfortable than I expected.

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