Page 68 of Always Mine

Even though we haven’t talked about our kiss, I’m not mad because it feels like such anusmove. Considering that after the first time Paxton ever kissed me, he was so nonchalant and we went about our lives as normal. This kiss was kind of the same thing, but this time I was the one who played it off.

The whole night of the carnival we were just living. We were enjoying each other and it felt like old times. Like we went back in time and are reconnecting with the life we lost.

I’m feeling that especially now, sitting in the bucket seat of his dad’s old truck with the windows rolled down and the country mix playing softly in the background.

“I can’t believe this old truck still runs,” I tell him as I let out a little chuckle, leaning forward and rubbing my hand across the warped dash.

“You know my dad loves a Chevy. Refuses to let this one go, even though he has two other trucks.”

“I’m surprised he’s not having Bryan drive it like you did after you got your license.”

“Oh, I know. Bryan gets the newer Ford… Little shit. I used to beg my dad to let me drive the Ford and he always told me no.”

I shrug, playfully cocking a shoulder. “Bryan must be more responsible than you were.”

“Hey, I resent that,” he snaps with mock indignation. “I’m responsible.”

“You’re also a bit of a daredevil and accident-prone.” I don’t know how those two things go hand in hand, but in Paxton’s case, they do. I swear he has more scars on his body than the average person. Definitely seen the inside of an emergency room more than most as well.

He releases a little snort, flipping on his blinker before turning down a back road. “Ma said the same thing recently. In my defense, I can’t turn down a dare, and half of those were influenced by you.”

Yeah,myass. He’s so full of shit. “How do you figure that? I recall several incidents where I tried to talk you down from doing something stupid. You seem to forget your hardheadedness.”

He just shrugs. “We can agree to disagree.”

I roll my eyes, folding my arms over my chest, fighting the urge to reach over and sock him. He used to scare me to death with the dumb things he used to do. I remember one time when we couldn’t have been more than ten years old, he decided he had to try out his Superman cape to see if it had magic. I probably told him a dozen times not to do it, but of course, he was convinced he could fly.

It took falling from the loft ladder, ten staples, and his mom confiscating the damn cape for him to realize that he was in factnotSuperman.

Dumbass.

“You’re thinking really hard over there.”

“Yeah, about the time you thought you had superpowers and ended up busting your head open.”

His loud laugh rings out and he reaches up to touch the scar near the back of his head. “So much blood. I thought your mom was going to have a heart attack.”

“She wasn’t the only one,” I mutter, realizing that half of my childhood trauma comes from the man sitting beside me. “You weren’t allowed in the barn for months after that.”

“I’m pretty sure it was years.” His tone is thoughtful, and all I can do is shake my head. He really scared us all and has not a single regret.

“You’re probably right.” He makes another turn and I frown, not sure where we’re going. “Okay, the suspense is killing me. Where are you taking me?”

“It’s a surprise,” he says in that teasing tone of his.

Ugh, why?! I groan, tipping my head back against the seat. “I still don’t like those very much.”

He wags his eyebrows before making another turn, a devious little shine in his eyes. “Which makes it all the more fun.”

Why did I agree to this again?

“For you maybe. All it does is make me anxious.”

“You’ll love it. Trust me.” His genuine smile makes my stomach knot up, shifting my nervous anxiety to the emotional kind. He’s doing everything right. Making me believe that we can somehow rekindle what I was sure was long gone. I should probably be terrified, should put a stop to this and everything he’s trying to do… but I can’t.

I know there’s a chance this will end badly, and that maybe I’ll end up even more broken than I was years ago, but he’s making me feel so fucking good. He’s giving me a source of happiness after years of misery, and if this is only temporary, I guess I’m willing to accept that. I’ll let myself feel joy even if it’s only for a little while.

It may make me sound pathetic, but when you’ve hit rock bottom and been stranded there for a long time, you’ll take a reprieve in any way you can, even if that means seeking that comfort from the source of your destruction.

---