My eyebrows bunched together, confusion over what she was trying to say.
“I can’t keep hooking up with you,” she said. “That’s not my thing. No matter how damn much I like being with you.”
She pushed out of my grasp and then smoothed down her shirt. She looked around the grimy bathroom and said, “And I certainly wouldn’t be fucking you in a nasty bathroom.”
Chapter Thirty-four
Jessie
My fingers were shaking so badly as they turned the knob. It was so difficult to walk away from him but I needed to, or I’d just fall even harder.
Before I could get out of the room, his strong arm gripped my waist and he shoved the door closed. Nate lifted me, swung me around, and then forced me against the wall.
He grasped for my hands as he raised them above my head and his mouth lowered toward mine. “Is that really what you think? That all I want from you is a hookup?”
My body was trembling head to toe because I could feel his heat and smell his fresh soap scent. His breath fanned across my lips and his arousal pulsed against my stomach.
“C’mon Nate,” I whispered, because I didn’t have the strength to muster anything else. “Is . . . isn’t that what you do—with girls? You screw them to fulfill a need and then you move on?”
I knew it had been a low blow, but who was I to guess what the hell this had become between us.
“But I haven’t moved on, have I?” His gaze practically pierced through me. “I can’t fucking move on . . . not from you. Not after I’ve discovered how you taste, how you smell, how you sound . . .”
I inhaled a harsh breath as his nose brushed along my jaw and headed toward my ear. God, how I wanted his lips on my mouth, on my breasts.
“You’re branded in my brain,” he whispered against my neck. “I have your skin committed to memory.”
It was like a visceral punch to my gut, zapping all of my air, that’s how much I savored hearing that.
“Like how that roll of film on your forearm nearly reaches the inside of your elbow . . .” His gaze slid down my body painstakingly slowly. “And the corner of that picture frame on your stomach shows just above those lacy panties you wear.”
My breath released in fluttery wisps as his fingers came down to trace across my chin before gliding down my throat.
“Nate.” My free hand now reached for his hair.
“I’ve got your lips memorized as well,” he continued as he outlined them with the rough pad of his finger. “Not only how they taste, but their shape.”
The tip of his thumb breached my lips and my tongue darted out to take a lick.
He groaned. “I know that you bite your bottom lip when you’re worried . . . and that your mouth pulls thin when you’re angry.”
My fingers encircled his hand and I sucked his thumb into my mouth. His eyes flared as he whispered, “And when you’ve been kissing me senseless, your lips are wet and plump and I want to keep them looking like that all night long.”
“Oh God,” I mumbled as my head fell back against the wall.
“It’s true I haven’t used my tongue on many girls.” He trailed his lips along my jaw. “But now I only want to use it on you.”
I was so stunned and amazed and turned on that I could barely think straight.
“I’m trying to figure myself out, my family out, every damn thing out.” His heavy breaths were now mixing with mine. “But everything inside of me aches for you.”
I held the gasp inside my throat and slid my hand around his waist. “I ache for you, too.”
His eyes closed momentarily as if reveling in my words.
“I have a lot going on right now and I’m afraid to drag you into it,” he said, gathering my face in his hands. “I . . . can’t keep you from seeing other . . . guys. But I know that I only want to be with you.”
“Then be with me,” I said, simply. “Ask me to only be with you.”
But I could tell from the storm brewing behind his eyes that it wasn’t that simple for him.
“I don’t want to blow this, Jessie.”
His phone rang from his pocket but he ignored it as he pulled back to look at me. He was still afraid—I could see it plain as day in his eyes.
So I needed him to say the words. To give whatever this was between us a chance.
His phone rang again and he huffed. “It could be my mom.”
I nodded as he pulled out his cell and then quickly answered. “Luke?”
I straightened from the wall, quickly snapping out of our spell.
“Fuck.” As he listened further, his face became stricken. “What hospital?”
When he hung up, I didn’t even ask, I just followed. I knew it had to do with his mom and that something serious had happened. We charged out the back exit and I hopped in the passenger side of his fancy car.
When he slid in the driver’s seat, he said, “Jess, you don’t have to—”
“Just drive,” I hissed.
We drove in near silence to the university hospital. Nate was concentrating on driving and wrestling with his thoughts and emotions.
“Luke and Anna walked in on my dad pounding my mom,” he said, as he pulled into the lot. “When he got involved, my dad clocked him good. Anna called the police.”
“Oh my God,” I said. I was so shocked I couldn’t even form the words to match the questions racing through my head. How badly had his mom been hurt? Where was his dad now?