After using the bathroom, I stand, a bit wobbly as I look at my reflection in the mirror. Thankfully, or at least I think so, I look decent. My hair is still in its braid, but my lipstick is a little smeared, so I reach for the rag I used earlier to wipe it off as my heart hammers against my chest.
I can still feel his hand in mine.
It felt so damn good. His hand was warm and so much larger than mine. My dad says that my hands are small so they are quick, but somewhere inside me, I feel like they are small just to be enveloped in Jayden’s large hand.
Oh. My. God.
The Jack has me thinking like a pathetic little schoolgirl who has a crush on the big, sexy jock. Shit. And then, that’s not all it has me doing. No, it has me wanting to touch him. Everywhere. Like with my hands, my tongue, my mouth, my body, every single fiber of my being, I want to touch him.
But what will happen if I do?
We’ll fuck. Yeah. That’s a given, but what about afterward? Do I just walk away? Never talk to him again? Or do I try? And what if he doesn’t want to try? What if he is only saying all these amazingly sweet things, baring his soul to me, to get laid? But that doesn’t seem right! I can read dudes, I’m basically a pseudo dude, and he isn’t like them. He’s nice. Caring, confident, funny, and Lord is he gorgeous, but most of all… Fuck, I think that he believes in me. That alone has me wanting to jump his bones and ride him until the final buzzer.
Which I pray never comes.
Pressing my face into my hands, I suck in a deep breath. I don’t know what to do. A part of me wants to say fuck it and wrap my arms around him, kissing him senseless in the hopes that he’ll lay me down in that bed. But the other part of me knows that’s a bad idea. I’m worth more than a one-night stand, and I’m pretty damn sure we both know that this will never go anywhere after this. We are both on two different roads. Maybe one day, we’ll come back together, but even that doesn’t feel right. We have two very different lives. This isn’t Grease. We won’t meet up again and start singing about him being the one that I want. That kind of shit doesn’t happen in real life. We can try the long-distance thing, but does that ever really work? No. It doesn’t. That’s why my mom left, because she couldn’t handle my dad being gone and raising me. Or at least that’s one of the many theories my dad and I came up with.
Who knows? But I do know that Jayden Sinclair is a game I can’t win.
And he is one that scares the living shit out of me.
When a knock comes at the door, I drop my hands and reach for the handle, pulling it open. Jayden stands there, looking at me, all sexy and expectant.
“You all right? Not puking?”
I laugh. “I don’t puke. I can handle my liquor.”
“Wouldn’t expect anything less,” he says with a teasing tone as I reach into my pocket for my lipstick.
Painting it on my lips, I can feel him watching me and I like it. Like, a lot. I don’t know, maybe it feeds my ego since no one but my dad has ever told me I’m beautiful. I get called hot all the time, but he’s the first to look me in my eyes and tell me that. He not only spoke it, his eyes screamed it. It’s kinda intoxicating the way he makes me feel. I don’t even feel like myself. I feel…different.
“Red, your favorite color?”
I glance over at him and nod. “Yeah, it’s the only color I wear.”
“Can I ask why?”
I shrug. “You can ask whatever you like.”
The smile he gives me is downright dirty, but he laughs it off before asking, “Fine, tell me.”
Leaning against the counter, I twirl the tube in my hand before letting the breath I’m holding out. “I, um, didn’t have a mom, obviously.”
“Yeah,” he says, matching my stance but against the doorframe.
“I got to like fourteen and wanted to be like the other girls since I was so hard-core in hockey. And my dad took me to the drugstore, handed me a tube of red lipstick, and told me that’s the only thing pretty girls need. Been wearing it ever since.”
I look up to find him with a small smile pulling the side of his mouth up. His eyes are hooded, sensual, and everything inside me catches on fire. I feel his gaze on every inch of me. The hairs on my arms and the back of my neck are standing at attention just from being under his heated gaze. When his eyes fall to my lips, I suck in a deep breath, my lips parting, and I wait.
If he kisses me…I’m done.
“It’s very classic, brings out your eyes,” he mentions, and crazily enough, my heart sinks because he doesn’t move. “And your dad sounds like a smart man. He’s right, you need nothing else to bring out your beauty.”
My mouth pulls up at the side as my cheeks redden. “No?”
He shakes his head, tucking his hands into his pockets, causing the shorts to slide down some, showing a little strip of his abs. It’s almost like he smacked me with lust because I’m taken back to hours before when he was gloriously naked. Blinking dumbly, I look up to his face and I am fighting to breathe. The look in his eyes has me on edge. I feel like I’m being pulled to him. Almost like he is the light and I’m the dumbass bug on my way to bug heaven.
And what a heavenly temple he’d be to explore.