Keep (Seaside Pictures 2)

“How’d you know?” I laughed and moved to a full sitting position. “I’m sorry.”

“Zane—”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“It wasn’t yours either,” she said in a stern voice, almost accusing. “You know that, right?”

I looked past her, at the window, my escape. Because the thing about having friends or soul mates or whatever she was, they saw through your bullshit, and people like that, I avoided them because it was too hard to pretend to be anything but myself.

The very person I was afraid to be.

“Zane.” The way she said my name, like we weren’t strangers, it had me finally locking eyes with her. “I won’t push you now. You were mean. And cruel. And you weren’t you. And I hated seeing that. I hated that you took out your own issues on me.”

“I know,” I mumbled feeling about two feet tall. “It was badly done.”

“Completely,” she agreed way too fast. “But I hope we can still be friends.”

“No.” I said just as quick.

She stumbled back as though I’d just hit her.

I was on my feet in about two seconds.

My mouth on hers in less than a minute.

And my decision to cross that line?

Was no longer a decision, or a question, it was a promise.

One I sealed with a searing kiss.

Chapter Nineteen

Fallon

HE NEEDED TO STOP kissing me. It wasn’t fair. To either of us, but mainly in our current situation—it wasn’t fair to me. To girls like me in general.

His mouth hungrily nipped at mine, as his lips explored.

I put a hand between us to create some space and took a step back, Zane’s breathing was heavy, laborious, his eyes wild. “What’s wrong?”

“You.”

“Me,” he repeated dumbly, then took another threatening step toward me, this time tugging my body against his while he swallowed kiss after kiss until I lost count of how many times our lips brushed—or the number of moans he emitted out of me as he angled his head different ways, pressing his hands to my hips then running them up my body until I trembled.

I felt thoroughly seduced.

And taken advantage of.

“You’re,” I said between small, heated, wet kisses. “Paying.” He was persistent, I’d give him that, but I couldn’t let myself fall for it, fall for the guy who was ninety-nine percent wrong and maybe one percent right. “Me.”

“Then I’ll stop paying you,” he growled, his scruff brushed against my skin as he peppered more kisses across my lips. “Do you even realize how much you talk?” His calloused hands grazed the skin beneath my sweatshirt, my knees knocked together as I let myself give in to him, just briefly, just enough so that I’d be satisfied.

But it was Zane.

And every kiss was better than the last.

So stopping with the knowledge that he just got better and better, made me want to throw something across the room—mainly him.

He smiled against my mouth. “Stop thinking so much.”

“You’re a horrible influence,” I huffed, taking the lead in kissing as I tangled my hands in his hair and tugged his mouth harder against mine.

With a curse, he wrapped his arms around my body and crushed me against him.

None of my high school experiences had ever felt like Zane: pure, raw, masculine. I wasn’t kissing a teenage boy from the football team. He was worldly, experienced, playing me like his favorite guitar as his fingers deftly skimmed up my back and pulled off my sweatshirt, only pulling away seconds before his mouth was on mine again.

One minute I had a sweatshirt on.

The next, it was magically on the floor, joining my shorts as he tugged them down.

What was happening?

It was like I was watching everything outside my own body. The moans coming from my throat foreign as his tongue flicked across my lower lip.

Seriously, did he have a degree in kissing too?

Should I ask?

Was that appropriate?

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered against my neck, taking his time to kiss every inch of exposed skin until I squirmed.

“Don’t.” I finally caught my breath as he glanced down at me. “Don’t call me beautiful just to get me into bed.”

He frowned. “Is that what you think? Seriously?”

I didn’t nod. But I also didn’t answer.

“Fallon.” His voice was gruff. “Tell me you don’t really think I’d lie to you just so I could sleep with you.”

“Well.” I shivered and stepped away. “You do call me four eyes, and you compared my last pair of glasses to something you’d find in a donation box, so what do you expect me to think? That in the last few days you’ve suddenly developed a thing for me?” Finally thinking clearly, mainly because he wasn’t kissing me anymore but staring at me with this weird horrified expression like I’d just run over his dog or something, when clearly I was the injured party, I grabbed my sweatshirt and tossed it over my head tugging it down. “It’s fine. You just got caught up. I’m sure it happens to you all the time.”

He pressed his lips together then ran his hands over the back of his head, turning around in a small circle before crossing his arms. His gaze met mine again. “So… I’m just caught up in the moment?”

“Zane.” I rolled my eyes. “Stop making such a big deal about this. I’m not mad. I get it, you’re used to getting a lot of action, and I’m…” I shrugged. “Available.” I offered a small smile. “I’m honored you would stoop to my level.” He winced at my joke. “But, I’m a girl.”