Nothing Feels Better (Better Love 3)

“Is that their superpower?” he asks, and I smile, snapping another picture of the patch of flowers.

“I think so, yeah.”

Jesse hums, and I meet his gaze. “Sounds like someone else I know.”

The look is intense, and my skin erupts in goosebumps at his words. His voice is low and sincere, and his eyes are penetrating. My body warms, and I don’t know how to respond, so I stay quiet.

“Did you know that sunflowers turn toward one another on cloudy days?” he asks randomly, when I break eye contact.

“Is that true?”

“No,” he laughs, and I look up to find him grinning proudly. “I saw it on Facebook. Can’t believe anything you see on there.” I shake my head. He’s so playful. “It’s a nice sentiment, though, isn’t it? Find the light within your relationships when everything else feels dark.”

He catches my eye once more. His are so open, so inviting, and I want to walk closer. Want to close the distance between us and... What? I don’t even know. I’m so out of my element. My feet stay rooted to the spot, and his soft smile suggests he understands my internal battle.

“C’mon, Classic,” he says, then turns back on the trail. “Let’s find somewhere to eat.”

“Wow,”I breathe out, taking in my surroundings. “Can you imagine how beautiful this will be in a few weeks?”

The clearing that we found is sunshiny and full of blooming wildflowers. Jesse wastes no time laying out the blanket he brought.

“We’ll have to bring J-Squared back here,” he says absent-mindedly as he unpacks the contents of the backpack. “Bet they’d like to see it once the wildflowers are in full bloom. The colors and everything.”

The statement makes me want to cry. Usually, I’m the only one considering June and Jude. I blink away the stinging in my eyes and have a seat across from him on the blanket.

“This looks great,” I say brightly, and his full lips quirk up.

“Impressed yet?” He twists off the lid of a bottle of water, then hands it to me.

“Very,” I say on a laugh, then roll my eyes at the thought of him trying to impress me.

“Hey, I’m serious,” he says. “I put a lot of thought into this date. Are you having fun?”

I choke on my water. Date?

“Whoa, you okay?” He scoots closer and pats my back lightly. “I can do mouth to mouth if you need it.” His stupid impish smile.

“Date?” I gasp out between coughs, and his smile falters.

“Yeah, Classic. Date.” His eyes bounce between mine, his hand still resting lightly on my back. For a second, I see something pass over his face. Uncertainty. Vulnerability. “Don’t you feel this?” he whispers, and my mouth drops open.

“I...” I rasp, then lick my lips. Swallow. Try again. “I thought it was just me,” I say quietly, and his answering chuckle—low and rumbling—vibrates through me. He reaches out and grasps my hand, then presses it to his chest.

“This feel like it’s just you?”

My eyes fall to where his hand covers mine. Beneath my palm, his chest is hard and warm, and his heart thunders rapidly. I flex, pressing my fingers into his skin, and he groans. My eyes snap back to his.

“I’m attracted to you, Jocelyn.”

“You are?”

His grin is wicked. “I can put your hand on something else if you need that proven to you too...”

My eyes widen and laughter bursts from me, loud and echoey through the clearing. I can’t believe he just said that. And his grin is so proud with his playful, dancing eyes.

“What do you want, Classic?” His gaze falls to my mouth, and I wet my lips. “Tell me what you want.”

I want to kiss him. I want his mouth on mine. But that can’t happen. None of this makes sense. He’s... He’s... And I’m—

“Get outta your head, Joss.” He tightens his grip on my hand, pressing it harder into his chest, heart beating even faster. You can’t fake that, right? “What. Do. You. Want?”

“To kiss you,” I breathe out, and he wastes no time closing the distance between us.

His lips are warm, soft, and patient. So patient. Surprisingly gentle, but I can sense the energy buzzing just beneath the surface. He runs his tongue along my bottom lip, coaxing me slowly, giving me time to pull away. To change my mind.

I do the opposite.

I run my hands up his chest, around his neck, and plunge my fingers into the mess of curls atop his head. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me close, and deepens the kiss. When I open my mouth and our tongues touch, I swear I feel his body shake. He slides his hands up and down my torso, brushing over my breasts in a barely-there touch that makes me whimper. At the sound, he does it again, then cups one and squeezes.

“Fuck, the things I want to do to you.” He growls into my mouth, then moves his lips to my jaw, my neck.

I want his hands everywhere. I will him to slide them under my shirt, down my pants, and I blush hot with the direction of my thoughts. I want it, but I can’t bring myself to say it, and as much as I want to touch him, too, my hands stay firmly above his waist. We kiss for minutes or hours, long enough that I’m breathless and dizzy, and his hands have caressed almost every part of my body. Some places I wish he’d have lingered longer. But we don’t take it further, and when he slows the kiss, my head is fuzzy, and my heart is pounding.

“This one left them all behind,” he whispers when we break apart, eyes running all over my face.

“What?” I ask, and his small smile takes my breath away once more.

“Nothing,” he says, and shakes his head. “It’s from The Princess Bride.” He lifts his hand and traces his fingers over my jaw, then lightly over my lower lip.

“I tried to draw you. After that first time I saw you in Rox’s room.” He traces his fingers back the way they came, lip then jaw then shoulder and down my arm where he takes my hand.

“You can draw too?” I watch as he flips my hand over and runs his index finger over my palm.

“Absolutely not,” he says honestly, then meets my eyes. “It was a horrible rendering.” I can’t hold back my laughter at the look on his face. “I’ll never try it again.”

“Why’d you try it at all?” I question through giggles, and he smirks.

“Cause you’re in here.” He taps his temple as he speaks, and the gesture reminds me of what he said earlier. How he loses interest quickly. He has no say in what stays. Whatever happens between us, it won’t be a big deal for him, and it won’t last long. Just a blip on his dating radar.

Dating.

“I can’t date you,” I blurt out, and he flinches. Of course, he does. Just because he took me on a date doesn’t mean he wants to be exclusive. “I mean, I can’t really do anything serious right now.”

“Yeah,” he says after a few seconds. “I leave at the end of the summer, anyway...” He sits up straight, but he doesn’t let go of my hand. “But until then, what if we just have some fun?”

“Fun?” He means sex, right? Making out. Having sex. I blush, and his eyes flare.

“Yeah, Classic. Fun. I can help you with your list, and we can spend time together. But we won’t do anything you don’t want to do.”

My shoulders loosen. I hadn’t even realized I had tensed up to begin with.