Spitfire in Love (Chasing Red 3) - Page 63

And those secrets hid more mystery. Winding in sharp turns and curves and bends and dead ends that I could easily get lost in and leave me confused. Every time I thought I had it figured out, it would change its pattern.

I could have easily gone up to the roof and uncovered its secrets, but that felt like cheating. Besides, where was the challenge in that?

Kara reminded me of that maze.

I stared at her back, watching the rise and fall of her shoulders as she slept restlessly. Even in sleep, her mind hadn’t fully relaxed.

There was something inside me that yearned to comfort her. I wanted to gather her in my arms and tell her everything was going to be okay, that I’d take care of her troubles if she’d let me.

I nearly laughed at the ridiculousness of my thoughts. I couldn’t take care of anyone. And she’d laugh in my face if I told her that anyway.

It was the confined space, I thought as I turned to face the windshield, watched the rain slide lazily down the glass, listened to the drumming sound it made on the roof. I was alone in a car with the most alluring girl I had ever met. A girl I hadn’t stopped thinking about since I met her. A girl who was fighting the strong pull between us. All these things lulled my brain into dreaming up foolish thoughts.

It didn’t make sense that, of all the girls I’d been with, she was the one I’d want. She’d bite my head off if she had the chance. She never listened, was stubborn as a bull, and always disagreed with me. Except when we were kissing. That was a different story.

She turned onto her other side, facing me now, whimpering in her sleep. Her long hair slid down to cover half of her face. I held my breath, hoping she wouldn’t wake up.

She looked so soft, harmless, like a pretty kitten, but that would be a dangerous assumption to make. She was as safe as a ticking time bomb.

So why couldn’t I stop thinking about her?

I released my breath when her breathing steadied again. My hands itched to touch her, to skim my finger over her skin and tuck that lock of hair behind her ear, so I could see her face.

I couldn’t get her face out of my mind. Her hair. Her eyes. Her lips.

Her body.

Her fire.

I should be happy that she thought of me as an experiment. But goddamn that had pissed me the hell off when I’d heard her say that on Saturday night.

I’d decided I was going to forget about her the next day, but when I was at the site doing a reno, she was all I could think about.

I had a scratch on my back to prove it. I was distracted and didn’t see the sharp edge protruding from the wall. It ripped my shirt off.

The color of the bricks reminded me of her hair. Dark brown and gold. But then I realized it was the wrong shade. The color of her hair was richer and deeper.

Even the fucking lettuce I slapped on my burger reminded me of the flecks in her hazel eyes.

It was annoying the hell out of me. She was like an itch on my back I couldn’t reach.

I shifted in my seat when I saw her lips part. She was snoring lightly, and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why I found that so damn adorable.

Had she changed her mind about our deal? I had a feeling she’d bow out because of what happened on my couch two nights ago.

Especially when she came to pick me up with her windows down, freezing her ass off, and the hint of an unidentifiable stench in her car. It smelled like some poison they sprayed to kill cockroaches.

She was unpredictable. Every time I thought I had her figured out, she changed the pattern on me.

I wanted more. I wanted to know her, memorize every piece of her.

Just like I wanted to taste every part of her.

Maybe once I had my fill, this constant wanting would stop.

Her lips closed, then parted slightly.

Then she opened her eyes.

Tags: Isabelle Ronin Chasing Red Romance
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