Page 42 of The Other Side
The country beat reaches its peak in the chorus, and his smile reels me in a dangerous inch closer. My chin inclines just as he gently towers over me. The only barrier is our plastic cups of water cradled at our chests.
His woody scent lathers me in devastation. Ruining me for any other guy who dares to lure me in.
Including Jesse.
It’s risky and reckless. But the thought of slipping away from him right now is less safe. My heart can’t endure his loss again.
Not right now.
No matter how short-lived this hit may be, it’s the rush that’s going to get me through the withdrawal tomorrow.
My body pummels into his solid torso before a wave of bubbly liquid hits me. The wetness seeps through my top, sticking to my skin and a few locks of hair.
Brant’s arm snakes around me while nudging the culprit. “Hey, watch it,” he calls out.
My water is snuggled between us, and I can’t stop the chuckle that escapes me. All the while he berates the drunken bystander.
His fingers tip my chin up, and I’m still giggling when he pulls back. “Shit,” he mutters. “I’m sorry.”
I shake my head, only for him to strip his hand from me. He cloaks it with the hem of his shirt, lifting it to press against my saturated sleeve.
“It’s okay. Really, I’m fine,” I assure him.
My eyes lower as he stands against me. I catch his inked V-line above his leather belt, and all the amusement drains from my chest. On instinct, my fingertips softly trace the pointed end of a wing.
A bird’s wing.
A dove’s wing.
A shallow breath escapes me as I trail my fingers downward. But my journey is forced to stop when I grace the denim at his waistline.
The image sinks below his jeans. Hidden from the rest of the world unless you’re wrapped up in bed with him.
“Don’t ask,” he says, his voice rippling with a quiver.
He’s idled against my touch. His warm flesh simmers underneath it, and my eyes skate up to his, Fear strangles my voice when I realize how devastatingly alike we are.
It’s disgusting.
Sabotaging.
Then I focus on the thin chain dipping into the collar of his shirt. It dawns on me that I have yet to see what’s attached to it.
My stomach boils through an uproar of distress, knowing there’s no way I can wear Jesse’s ring with dignity for a second longer.
“We should go,” I whisper, a tremble wracking my bottom lip.
His nostrils gently flare, his body riddled with tension when he eventually nods.
I’m already swiveling around. My boots trek along the wood floor, and I snatch my crossbody on my way to the front doors. I sling the strap over my shoulder when I land on the sidewalk, my lungs gratefully ingesting the fresh air.
But soon as Brant slips beside me, I scrape up any defense I can.
“God, I should’ve known better with all that reverse psychology bullshit you spewed my way this morning,” I gasp.
“Excuse me?”
I harshly turn to him, flailing an arm at my side as my brows twist with irritation. “Telling me you don’t want my body unless it’s all yours. Knowing all you’re gonna do is make me think about that. You knew exactly what the hell you were doin’.”
