When Rivals Lose (Bayshore Rivals 2) - Page 9

A memory, a thought… the barrier separating the two spaces, my past, and my present, cracks a little and I push through the crack grabbing onto the thought with two hands, letting it drag me into the darkness.

“Okay…. A kiss… A kiss would be okay, I mean,” I whisper right before he brushes a strand of hair from my face. His thumb brushing against my cheek leaving my skin tingling beneath his touch. He leans in, eyes open wide, as if he doesn’t want to miss the chance to see my face when our lips touch.

Then our lips touch, pressing together and my eyes close on their own. Tingles of warmth ripple through me. Everything around us fades out as if we are the only two people in the world. All I feel are his soft, full lips against mine. The kiss is gentle, heart-warming, and I lean into him while our lips melt into each other.

I give myself this one second to forget everything, the reason I am here and the reason I should hate him. Butterflies flutter around inside my stomach igniting a deep tremble in my core. A warmth seeps into my bones, melting me like an ice cream cone sitting in the afternoon sun.

I want to get lost in that feeling, feel nothing else beside it, but my father’s voice rings in my ears right then. I need to remember what his family has done, the pain they’ve caused.

With a heavy heart and an unsteady hand, I grab the small plastic bag from my pocket and slip it into his before I pull away breaking the kiss.

Try as I might to hold onto that memory it slips between my fingers like tiny bits of sand, the kiss with Matt ends as well and I’m left wondering what the hell just happened.

“I’ll see you later, and like I said…call me if you need anything.” Matt trails his thumb over my cheek, and I turn on my wedges, damn near falling on my face, as I do.

Thankfully, I catch myself against the railing and start up the stairs, all but racing toward my bedroom. By the time I reach my room, I’m panting, my chest rising and falling in such a manner, I wonder if I’m going to have an anxiety attack.

Slipping inside the room I close the door behind me and turn the lock into place. Then I slide down the door, my ass hitting the floor with a hard thud. That was definitely a memory from my past, and it was obviously with Sullivan, and it proved my biggest fear. I had hated him, but not enough to not give in to the temptation of kissing him, and if that’s not the scariest part of all of this, I don’t know what is.

If Sullivan was supposed to be an enemy, if we were fated to hate each other, if I hurt his family, and him, then why the hell were we kissing each other? And why did he find me and say he wants to help me? None of this makes sense, and as badly as I want answers, I know I won’t get any unless I dig deeper, unless I find them out for myself. Pushing up off the floor, I get ready for bed, putting my PJs on, and washing my face.

By the time my head hits the pillow, I’m partially asleep. My mind drifting to someone I shouldn’t have anything to do with.

3

Like every morning, for the last few weeks, I wake confused. It takes me a while to grab onto my bearings and make sense of anything first thing in the morning. I’m always looking around the room for something familiar…something that makes me remember this place, but it never happens.

Each day I wake up here, I feel like a visitor, a guest staying in a five-star hotel. Still in my jammies, I wander around my room, having the sudden urge to find something, anything that looks or at least feels familiar.

Walking over to my bookshelf, I let my fingers trail over the spines of the books, there are countless books, some of which I’ve read and loved, but nothing seems recognizable. Pulling the nearest book out, I search between every page, looking for something, anything, but nothing comes up. I do it with each of the books, but the outcome is the same.

Frustrated, I move to my desk and start to go through all the drawers, old notebooks, and pencil cases, but again, nothing worthy of investigation. I scour through the rest of the room meticulously, before I move on to my closet, touching every piece of clothing, every pair of shoes and accessories inside the large space. Nothing. Always nothing.

Tears prick my eyes, the frustration inside me boiling over. All I want is a thought, a memory, good or bad, it doesn’t matter. I just need something to keep me going. God, please give me something to show me that I’m not going crazy.

Tags: J.L. Beck Bayshore Rivals Romance
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