Brooke (Under the Never Sky, #2.5)(16)



“You do this thing with your mouth.”

“I do a thing?”

“Yes. You pout.”

Hayden throws his head back and laughs. “I pout at you?”

“Yes. You do.”

It’s actually not a pout, but that’s the only word I can come up with. Occasionally, like just a short while ago, his lips relax in a very appealing, sultry way that is close to a pout, but not a pout.

“Well,” he says. “Don’t let my pout scare you. I promise you’re safe at my side. You and I would never work.”

“You just said that so I’d ask why.”

“You just said that because you’re avoiding asking why.”

“Fine. Why, Hayden? Why are you so sure we’d never work?”

“Aside from the reason I mentioned earlier?”

“Yes. Aside from that.”

“There’s no spark between us.”

I glare at him. Does this boy ever say anything direct? Does he never say what he actually means?

Turning my focus out over the hills, I consider the situation. He has done this on purpose, of course. To make me wonder if there might be a spark between us. The problem is that even though I see his trickery, I actually am wondering.

My heart is thumping, and I’m suddenly aware of just how close he is.

I have always found him attractive. Handsome in a grown, mature way. I’m not the only one who thinks so. I’ve heard women in the tribe talk about his smile on more than one occasion.

My move on plan didn’t work with Hyde. How could it, when I saw hope in his eyes? Hope that I didn’t feel myself? I won’t use someone else just to make myself feel better. I like Hyde too much. But Hayden?

I look at him, a little ripple of excitement moving through me as I find him watching me. In his eyes I don’t see hope. All I see is humor—and heat. And those soft-looking lips . . . I really would like to kiss him.

“There’s only one way to find out,” I say, before I can stop myself. “And you did offer to warm me up.”

Hayden’s eyes narrow slightly. “Brooke . . . you’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

His hand comes up, and he runs his fingers along my cheek. I jump a little, but he doesn’t. His fingers are steady on my skin. Steady as they trace my neck and then run across my collarbone. His eyes are sensual and dark as they follow the path of his touch. His mouth relaxes, and there it is. That sultry pout.

I expected a kiss. That’s not what’s happening, and it’s thrilling.

He looks into my eyes, his gaze so dark and hungry that it takes everything in me not to shiver. Then he bends toward me, and his lips close over mine, the pressure soft but sure. I kiss him back, and Hayden moves in, his tongue sweeping against mine, and a single thought explodes in my mind: Hayden knows what he’s doing.

He sets an immediate tone, kissing me with confidence, and it feels achingly good, achingly familiar. I twist my hands into his hair and kiss him deeply, and hear him groan.

“Brooke,” he whispers, “easy.” But everything he’s doing contradicts that. His hand grips my thigh, so tight that I feel the pressure of every finger.

I move closer to him. He moves at the same time, and with all the moving that’s happening we end up lying on our sides, face-to-face. Together we are tumbling down a hillside of desire, and it feels safe. So safe not to care. This is only about lips and hands and skin. Swirling, smoky desires that are swallowing me up.

Hayden’s hand rolls up my ribs and brushes over my breast, sending a wave of desire through me. But after a few moments he surprises me by drawing away. “Brooke, there’s definitely a spark here. We might actually catch fire if we don’t—”

“Shhh . . . This is more fun when you don’t talk.”

His laugh is a short, clipped sound. “Fun?”

“Yes. Fun.”

I pull him to me again. He rolls on top of me, and then I roll on top of him, and it’s like a little battle in the midst of our kisses, our legs tangling up.

My hand finds his shirt, slipping over the rolling muscles in his stomach. He makes a hissing sound and darts away. “All right,” he says. “That was good.”

I don’t know what just happened. I don’t know why he pulled away. “It was better than good, Hayden.”

He mutters a curse and sits forward over his knees. “Brooke, just . . . give me a minute here.”

There’s only one reason he could have stopped. I can’t let that get in the way. “Hayden, what happened with Hyde was . . .” I don’t know how to finish my thought.

What happened between Hyde and me was a beautiful, fragile thing. But it feels like talking about it with Hayden would be disrespectful.

“It’s not that.” He rubs his hands over his head and lets out a breath. “Though it should be.”

“Then what? Is it Perry? Because I’m not with him anymore.”

Hayden lifts his head. “No, Brooke. It’s you.”

This throws me. My cheeks warm. “What about me?” I ask, preparing to defend myself.

“You’re running, Brooke. It’s like we’re back in those woods. You’re sprinting through this, and I don’t think . . .” He sighs. “I just have this feeling you don’t really want to do this.”

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