September Rain Bk 2, Savor The Days Series by A.R. Rivera Read Free Book Online Page B

wind.
“You are nosey. You want the truth? Fine. Here it is: I’ve had a
royally screwed up life. I’m busted in every way you can imagine
and probably a few that you can’t. I’m sorry for trying to shield
you from that. Truth is my hymen was broken when I was five
years-old.”
    His eyes widened. My words had him in
recoil. I could see the theories and scenarios playing across his
concerned face.
    “I was in a car accident. It killed my
mother and I almost died, too. In case you’re still curious, I
might never have kids because of it.” I shut my eyes tight to keep
from seeing his reaction. “I don’t have a family and I can’t make
one. I have been in foster homes, living with people that either
steadily ignore me or beat the shit out of me, for the past eleven
years. I don’t talk to anyone about my life. Not even to the
doctors who ask about the bruises.” I was nearly panting, my body
rigid with the suffocating feeling that accompanied any topic
involving my mother.
    The blood drained from his face. “Is
all that true?”
    I almost rolled my eyes.
    “I’m sorry.”
    “Whatever.”
    “Not ‘whatever.’ Angel, look at me.”
He took my chin and made me obey. “We all have parts of ourselves
that we don’t like to share. I understand that. I just forgot it
for a minute. I really am sorry.”
    I shrugged, deflated. “Not your
fault.”
    He pulled me back under his arm. “I
upset you. I didn’t mean to.”
    I relaxed into his hold, stuffing my
face into the crook of his neck. “Please don’t ask me about
it.”
    “I won’t.”
    Breathing in his scent, I decided to
make the most of my last few hours with him. I was going to stay
like that—nose flush against him, feeling the freedom, listening to
the hum of the road under the vans’ tires and the punk music
burbling through the speakers—for as long as I could.
    “Would you be interested in being the
girlfriend of an asshole like me?”
    I went rigid again and pulled away to
look at him. He was so beautiful, with his wide-eyed expression and
soft smile. “Why, Jake? Why would you want that?”
    “Is it so tough to believe I like
talking to you? And I started writing your song months ago. Did I
tell you that?” Jakes brow was scrunched, but his eyes held
amusement. “Besides, you’re so damn hot. That alone is reason
enough, right?”
    I waited, watching him. I enjoyed
being coveted, but even I knew that was nothing to build a
relationship on and that was something I didn’t know I wanted,
because I wouldn’t let myself think it, until Jake touched me and
kissed me in that greedy way he had; as if he were starving for
something only I possessed. And looking at him in that moment,
recalling the feeling of him the night before, I knew I needed
something true and lasting from him. I needed him. I needed him to
say that he needed me. So I waited, hoping.
    His affirmation was barely audible
over the music from the radio. “Come on, Angel. It’s not like we
just met. We’ve been talking after every show for the better part
of two years. Do you think I do that with everyone?”
    He looked deep into my eyes. “Well, I
don’t. I like you. More than I should. I like how sensitive and
attuned you are to me. I like that you understand how important my
music is. You don’t assume anything or talk too much shit. And
you’re really sweet. Thoughtful.” His eyes were soft as he grinned
down at me. “But above all of that, I love the way you look at me,
and the way it feels when I do something that makes you smile. How
it makes me feel . . .” His palm rested against my face, gently
sliding down to my mouth, “when I touch you.”
    The heat coming off of his confession
charged the air between us. Our mouths were mere millimeters apart.
Every other part of my body was flush against his—my shoulders and
both arms, my side, my hip, and the whole length of my leg. I
wanted to kiss him. I wanted to taste those delicious lips to see
if they were