Double Clutch - Реинхардт Лиз - Страница 37

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I leaned into him, trying to find the balance between quietly savoring the kiss and pressing in, tapping into the rush of feelings I had to keep bound inside. If I let go, went where my body begged me to, it was like a switch tripped in Jake’s head, and he backed off entirely. I had to play it just right, leading him in and making him forget what we were doing.

We were tangled around the cold metal frame of my bike, our arms and chests pressed together, our mouths and lips licking and sucking urgently. Then I shivered.

Just the tiniest imaginable shiver.

“Get going,” Jake barked. He pulled away and left me panting for more of him. Even as I sulked and snapped back that he wasn’t my keeper, I checked him out from under my eyelashes.

I knew why every girl we ever came within ten feet of pressed her breasts into his face and batted her eyelashes like she was having a facial spasm. He was the perfect mixture of pure angelic good boy and hot dangerous bad boy. He was sweet and mannered and romantic, but there was an edge to him that made me bristle and swoon at the same time. Swoon, just like Scarlett O’Hara. It was like I could imagine him carrying an old lady’s groceries to her car, but I could also picture him in a fist fight. And I wasn’t sure which image intrigued me more.

Sick, sick, sick. But I couldn’t lie about him. I felt my chest get hot and tight every time I thought of him. I was falling head over heels in love with Jake Kelly, and the feeling was better than anything I’d ever felt before.

“Bye,” I snapped, narrowed my eyes at him, and then I pretended I was going to pedal away even as I waited for the pull of his hand on my bike.

“Can’t let you go mad.” He pulled my bike back, just like I knew he would. Then he kissed my lips again gently. He fixed my scarf over my mouth and nose. “Brenna, you know you’re crazy, right?” His smile was so wide it crinkled his eyes, eyes as gray as this sky before the snow.

“I thought that was part of what drove you to me.” I was unable to resist him for even a minute. When Jake turned on his charm, I was defenseless.

“I want you to be safe.” He rubbed his red, chapped hand over my mittened one. “Look where you’re going and don’t make any stops.”

“I’m not an idiot, Jake,” I said through my scarf.

“I never said that,” Jake returned calmly. “Even pretty, smart girls can get caught in storms. Go.”

I dropped my hands from the bike and let it balance between my legs, threw him a hard hug, and darted away. I didn’t like to look back, because I knew exactly where Jake would be standing, watching me race away from him as he stood there, shivering until I was out of sight. Just because it happened every afternoon didn’t mean I wanted to see it.

Jake was right about the weather. As soon as I crested the hill beyond the school, snowflakes started to flurry and swirl. I felt a prickle of irritation. It wasn’t even winter yet. New Jersey was always cold, but this was just crazy. It was like even the weather was conspiring to keep me from riding to school.

I rode as hard I could and kept my eyes on the road without exception. I was just past Frankford when a car rambled too close to my side. I didn’t even have to look to know who it was.

I waved a hand to my side, flagging him away, but he crept dangerously close, refusing to back off. Finally I had to stop or risk being run into a deep, leaf-filled ditch on the side of the road.

I smacked my hand hard on the warm hood of his car in frustration, and Saxon gave me an amused grin from the interior. The smoke from his cigarette mixed with the swirling snowflakes and struck me as a weird combination of something so clean and cold and fresh with something so smoldering and dirty and choking.

“I’ll give you a ride.” It wasn’t a suggestion. As usual. Typical Saxon.

“No thanks. It’s getting worse, so why don’t you stop trying to drive me off of the road and let me go home?”

He took a long drag then flicked the finished cigarette out the window, the cherry bright orange and still smoldering. I made a face. There was nothing I hated more than seeing the ground littered with the dull brown filters of cigarettes.

“Mommy is going to be pissed.” He gestured with one hand to his interior. “Get in.”

“My mother will be extra pissed if I pull up in your car. I’m not allowed to drive with idiots.” I got back on my bike.

I heard Saxon make a noise between a yell and a snarl of frustration before he opened the driver’s side door and closed it with a bang. I was on my way, but the road was slick from the sticking snow and one of my tires wobbled and slipped from under me. Saxon caught up to me easily and grabbed my bike at the same time that I slammed my feet off of the pedals and onto the pavement.

“You’re going to get yourself killed.” He held the handlebars in a vice grip that was the opposite of Jake’s earlier gentle hold. “Get in the car.” He saw my stony expression and his eyes softened in a way I didn’t completely trust. “I won’t put the moves on you, Blix. If I let you get killed, who would I have left to irritate the crap out of me?”

I hated to admit how handsome he looked, how appealing he was to me, despite my resistance.

The snow fell more rapidly now, coated the swerved tracks from my bike, and then erased them completely. It was dangerous. Mom would be frantic.

“Fine.” I picked my bike up. “Pop your trunk.”

He ignored my request, yanked the bike from my hands and jerked his head towards the passenger door. “Get in.”

I saw as I slid in that he had already popped the trunk. He was totally sure I would jump in the car with him. I don’t know what made me angrier; his arrogance or the fact that I’d done exactly what he expected.

I had my arms crossed over my chest when he got in, refusing to warm my cold hands by the vents that blew such inviting air in my direction.

“Call your mom.”

I didn’t want to just do what he said, but I didn’t have much of a choice. If I didn’t call her first, she would be driving to get me or sending out the National Guard. My mom had a way of frightening men in authority positions, and I just prayed she hadn’t already called the cops while the phone rang.

She picked up on the second ring. “Brenna! Where are you?” Her voice was pure panic.

“I’m fine, Mom. One of my classmates offered me a ride home because of the weather.”

“Thank God.” In my mind I could see her putting a shaky hand over her heart. “Just drive slowly. Don’t rush. And tell her thank you.”

“Uh, I will.” I chose to ignore the pronoun confusion. “Love you.”

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