CHAPTER 12
CASSIE
"What the hell is this?" I stop dead in my tracks after fighting to shut the front door of the trailer. The metal by the lock is bent like someone hit it with a bat a few years ago. It takes two hands to close and lock the thing, which is why I failed to notice the sleek black SUV at the curb, complete with driver.
Jonathan glances back at me. "Our ride. Come on."
I stop on the rickety little porch. "I can't—"
"Yes, you can." Jonathan turns back and looks at me.
A million thoughts smash into each other like atoms in a reactor when I see the car. It confirms exactly who Jonathan Ferro is, and it obviously links us if the press sees us together in this car. For the first time, I really see who I'm with and I don't know what to do. He's not a normal guy—he never was.
With a dramatic sigh, Jonathan steps up in front of me. The tiny deck is too small for both of us at the same time. He's too close, nose to nose. My stomach flutters when I catch his gaze. The intensity of that look is enough to floor me. My breath catches in my throat and I'm wondering what he's going to do.
Jon's voice is low, barely a whisper. "Walk to the car and get in like a normal person."
"You're not a normal person." My voice quivers as I glance over his shoulder and see the driver step out and open the door to the backseat.
"That's where you're wrong. I'm quite normal, actually. In fact, I'm so normal that I'll do what any man would do if you don't walk there yourself." His eyes are brilliant, sparkling with mirth and determination. It makes my stomach dip like I'm in a free fall.
My voice catches in my throat, "And what's that?"
"Throw you over my shoulder and carry you." He grins at me as my eyes increase to the size of tennis balls.
"You wouldn't!"
"Try me."
My pulse rushes in my ears as we stare each other down. The idea of having his hands on me is too much. I cave and go to push past him, but Jonathan won't move. When I glance up into his face, he's looking down at me. There's no gleam in his eyes, no smirk on his lips. His lashes are lowered as he gazes at my mouth. There's barely any space between us and it's difficult to resist the urge to slip my hands around his waist and hold him. I'm drawn to him. I know it and I've accepted it. My plan to not act on the attraction has been going well. Right up until this moment. The way my heart flutters and toes curl in my heels is too much. I imagine him closing the space between us, I want him to, but—
The thought cuts off, because Jonathan leans in slowly. Panic sets a fire in my mind and everything turns to chaos. My reasons, my organized thoughts of why we can't be together, go up in smoke. I have half a second to decide before those soft, pale, pink lips meet mine. Every inch of me is screaming to lean into him, to let him kiss me, but I can't. I can't. I've waited too long looking for the right guy to throw it away now. My kiss doesn't belong to Jonathan.
He can't have it.
The thoughts rush through my mind like spilling water. Before I know it, I'm plastered against the screen door, sucking in air, trying to get some space between us. Jonathan slows when he notices my reaction, pressing his lips together as he watches me try to merge with metal. My face turns to the side and I look down. Heart beating hard, I say, "I can't. Please don't."
He watches me for a moment. "Not even a kiss?"
I shake my head and don't look up at him. I don't trust myself, and I saved this kiss for so long. It's not his. "No, I'm sorry."
He steps back and nearly falls off the porch, which makes me look up and react. I reach out for him and grab his wrist, steadying him as he steps onto the ground. He glances at my hand for a second and then up into my face. "Thanks." He pulls his wrist away and takes a shaky breath, pushing the hair out of his face and trailing his hands down his neck when he's done. "Damn, I haven't been this inept in a while... I thought—"
I shake my head, not wanting him to apologize. "It's weird, I know—"
"It's not weird at all." He looks up at me and I can tell he means it. "You have more conviction in that one belief than I have in my whole body. So, no first kiss?"
I shake my head as my face flames red and avert my eyes. "Not yet. I'm saving it."
He nods and looks down at his hands before shoving them in his pockets. "Then I'll be certain not to screw that up for you. I just wanted you to know—without a shadow of doubt—how beautiful and completely kissable you are..." His voice trails off like he doesn't know what else to say.
I glance up at him from under my lashes, careful not to meet his gaze, and smile. I can't help it. Awkward silence starts building and quickly grows bigger. I hate it and smash it back with some classic Cassie. I stomp down the steps and walk up to him. "I'd kiss you if I wasn't waiting."
He smirks. "So, you're eighteen and never been kissed?" I nod. A wicked grin crosses his face and I can't tell if he's serious or joking. "Promise me something. When you turn thirty—if Mr. Right still hasn't swept you off your feet—come and find me."
My stomach twists hard. The way he looks at me makes me think he isn't talking about lips on lips, but something more. I swallow hard and nod, tucking a curl behind my ear. "Don't worry, when I give up, you'll be the guy I go looking for to deflower me."
Jonathan nearly chokes at my comment, and then we both start laughing. It pushes things back to the way they had been, which is good. I spend my entire day with him, every day. Jonathan's become the reason I get out of bed in the morning and has learned more about me than most of my friends at home. I hold everyone at arm's length, but this guy managed to get closer. It makes me wonder when I dropped my guard, and if he snuck under the fence or if I let him in.