Page 59 of I'm Gonna Get You Back
“Here. Home. You know how my dad had surgery before summer training started? I know he’s fine now,” he rushed to say. “But… I want to be closer than the East Coast, which was my other option.”
I nodded slowly. “That makes sense. It’s actually the same reason I want CAFA over some of the bigger film schools. To stay close to my mom… in case.”
Still, I hated myself a little for needing to leave, terrified of what it might do to her.
But Reid understood that. Understood me. My heart jumped as he drew small circles across the skin of my knee with his fingertips. “It doesn’t hurt that Stanford will be close to you, too.”
Fear spread fast from the center of my chest. I couldn’t deny that I had the same thought, knowing it clashed with what my mom said to me.
Find yourownfeet. Don’t follow his.
“IfI get in,” I reminded him. Reminded myself. “IfI get a scholarship—”
“I know,” he said, calmly cutting me off. I hoped that he really did know. That we shouldn’t get our hopes up.
“But I wish you believed in yourself more, Clara.”
Out of nowhere my eyes got hot. My own parents forgot about me most of the time. I’d learned long ago not to expect too much from anyone. Only, Reid kept showing up being exactly who I needed. I didn’t understand it. I kept trying to resist it.
Because what if our lives went in opposite directions? What if it was never like this again?
When had that started to matter to me?
I held his gaze, trying to convey the torturous thoughts going through my head.
“Hey.” His voice softened so much I wanted to cry. “What’s that face?”
“You’re really going to leave,” I whispered, my voice almost breaking. It was the closest I could get to telling him how I felt. To describe the rush of longing and desperation coursing through my veins, thudding my heart so hard it ached.
He drew me closer, his fingers squeezing the soft flesh of my waist. “So will you,” he promised.
In that moment, as the pounding rain shielded us from everything else, I needed to be close to him in a way I understood better.
The towel slipped off me as I pulled my hair out of its ponytail; the wet strands slapped against my shoulders. His grip on my leg tightened as the lilac scent of my shampoo filled the space.
Lifting my knee, I slowly hooked it around him. My hair fell across my face and neck as I moved, and his eyes widened when he realized what I was doing. I studied the near-invisible freckles across his cheekbones as I hovered above him, my legs on either side of his lap, my back bumping against the steering wheel.
He gripped my hip with one hand, while his featherlight touch brushed my hair behind my shoulder with the other. “Maybe we shouldn’t.”
“Why not?” I skimmed my nose down the line of his, dragging my nails along the back of his neck.
“I—I can’t think when you do that,” he said, laughing a little.
“Good,” I teased.
He smiled against my lips before pulling back slightly. “I just mean… Do we really want to do ithere?”
“We don’t have to,” I breathed. “But it’s just us.”
Us. A small word that meant so much. That broke so often.
In that searching look, we both knew what we wanted.
Our lips met in a gasp. He usually slowed me down, but we were as frenzied as the wind that shook the world outside. My hands went everywhere—into his hair, grasping down his bare back. I traced my fingertips along either side of his rib cage and felt the moan from his chest in my own.
All the while we barely broke apart. He kissed me harder, his skin hot against mine, and rasped my name across my mouth—my neck. It felt like a plea. I couldn’t understand why tears sprang to my eyes. Why the closer we got, why the more we followed this feeling down each other’s bodies, the harder my heart hurt.
“You’re shaking,” he whispered.
