A Piece of Heaven (Allendale Four 1)

Ten minutes later, I found the book I wanted. I had just pulled it from the shelf when I felt him behind me. Close behind me. I froze, trying to think of my next move. Should I get on my tip-toes and reach for a high book, exposing the skin around my waist? Should I pout and act confused—damsel in distress-y?

Before I could decide, he went on the attack.

“Why are you doing this? Dressing like this?”

“Why are you being such a dick?” I countered, feigning nonchalance. And then I felt it. His hand was on my hip and his chest was on my back. And it was just...whatthefuck?

“What are you doing?” I asked, pulling forward, only to feel his grip tighten.

“It’s not fair.” He said in a low voice. He sounded angry—no, distressed. “You doing this all the time and me...just resisting.”

I struggled and turned around. My face basically pressed against his chest, he was so close. When I looked up I could see a manic expression on his face. “What do you mean resisting?”

“I mean…” He looked around and his tongue darted out between his lips. “I just want...” And then he pushed my back against the hard shelf of books and kissed me. Hard. On the mouth. And because I’m a fool and have wanted him forever, I kissed him back, lacing my fingers through the short, soft hair on his neck. The kiss was desperate, needy, everything from weeks, months…no, years of pent up frustration. His hips slammed into mine and I held him there, feeling him—breathing hard, until the wave crashed and he slowed to a gentler pace. I felt his tongue touch against my own and it made my stomach burst into a million pieces. He tasted good and felt good and it was Anderson, the one just out of my reach.

When he stopped and pulled away, I kept my eyes closed because I wasn’t ready for it to be over. His forehead was pressed to mine and he spoke, weird and choked. “I’m sorry. That was...wrong.”

My eyes flew open and my fingers slid down his shoulders and clenched the front of his shirt. “No, it wasn’t.”

“I shouldn’t treat you like the others do.”

“The others?” I rambled, pushing closer. The look on his face said it all. “They said you were okay with it. You’d come around.” And his face dropped and too late, I slapped my hand over my mouth. It was the wrong thing to say. The worst thing to say.

“I can’t do this,” he said, pushing me away, leaving me breathing heavy in the stacks. I watched, horrified as he turned and walked down the aisle, hands balled into tight fists. His words hit like a load of bricks, because in his eyes told the truth. He wasn’t into this—into this thing we were doing. He wasn’t coming around and like always, I just made things worse.

A loud bang brought me out of the stacks and I saw Anderson running out the door. Jackson’s eyes met with mine and he shook his head, chasing after his friend. I wasn’t sure wh

at happened just now but every fiber in my body was convinced I’d screwed up good. Familiar dread built in my chest, leading the way for the rush of anxiety to race through my limbs, shooting into my heart. Sweat beaded on my forehead and I reached futilely for something nearby to steady myself. Something to prop me up.

There was nothing.

No one.

I’d scared them all away.

My fingers slipped, knocking over books, but I kept grabbing, searching for whatever I could to stay upright but the fear was too much. My heart hurt—it cracked with one final glance at the door and I fell, succumbing to the painful, inevitable dark.

Chapter 14

The lighting of the room was the first giveaway that I wasn’t in my own bed. The smell—antiseptic combined with bleach—was the second. I turned my head and found my mom asleep in the hard chair crammed in the tight space between the window and the bed.

I looked down and saw the gown with tiny blue dots and the monitor strapped to my wrist. How did I get here? What happened?

“Heaven?” my mom called, and I turned back to face her.

“Hey Mom.” I touched the monitor. “What happened?”

“You tell me, sweetie.” She’d hopped out of her seat and was leaning over my body, brushing my hair out of my eyes. “You were at the library and passed out. The doctors think it was another anxiety attack.”

It wasn’t the first major one I’d had. There were a few right after Dad left. The fear of never seeing him again and moving to a new school was just too much. I dropped into the darkness of cutting. But that was a long time ago. I was better.

I glanced around the room, the sure sign that I was not better.

“I just got overwhelmed.” I remembered Anderson leaving—storming out of the library with Jackson hot on his heels. Of course, Jackson picked Anderson. And of course, Anderson wasn’t into this whole thing. Who would be? Dating four guys wasn’t possible even if we were a perfect match. It was disgusting. Gross. Deviant.

It was crazy. I was crazy, and when they’d left me, the idea of being alone almost killed me.

I picked at the tape on my wrist and swallowed my tears. I’d been a pro at hiding my emotions for so long, but then he boys had lulled me into a sense of comfort. I wouldn’t make that mistake again.