The Distance Between Us(50)

“You’re killing me,” he says breathlessly.

“I’m sorry.” I take one step away, and he grabs me by the elbow and swings me to face him. Now the entire fronts of our bodies are touching. I take a sharp breath as heat pours down me. He backs me up against the counter. His palm pressing into my lower back feels like it could singe a handprint onto my skin.

I’m staring as hard as I can at the collar of his T-shirt.

“Caymen?”

“Yes?”

“You look terrified. Does this scare you?”

“More than anything.”

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t bring my mints.”

“And now the real answer . . .”

“Because I’m afraid that once you catch me, the game’s over.” I don’t believe I admitted that out loud to him when I hadn’t even admitted it to myself. But he called me out. He always calls me out.

His finger traces my cheekbone and my heart slams into my rib cage as the nerves from my cheek all the way down my arms buzz to life.

“I didn’t realize we were playing a game,” he says.

I smile. That was the same line he had used during our second meeting. I look at him, and as if that’s all he’d been waiting for, his lips meet mine. When they touch I feel electrified. He kisses me gently, his lips as warm as his hand.

Just when I’m about to go into attack mode, I hear Skye clear her throat and say, “I’m just going to take my hot chocolate to go, then. I’ll bring your mug back another time.”

I pull back and try to push Xander away, not wanting to be rude, but he doesn’t budge. Skye gives me the way to go smile and I realize she’s not offended at all.

“I’ll give her a ride home,” Xander says without looking away from me. His eyes are on fire. We both listen as Skye leaves the kitchen. Then he takes me by the waist and lifts me onto the counter. I wrap my legs and arms around him and press my lips to his. The action is more intense this time. My need more obvious.

He answers back, his tongue finding mine, his hands pulling me as close as possible. He tastes good, like salty chocolate. I let my hands explore his back through his T-shirt. I find his spine and outline each vertebra. A rush of emotions courses through my body, and I’m surprised when the one that overwhelms me is intense sadness, the one emotion I’ve been successfully repressing all night.

I am moments away from tears so I bury my head in his neck, hoping to suppress them. He freezes. He tries to back up, probably so he can look at me, but I cling tightly to him. He rubs a hand up and down my back.

“Caymen? What is it? I’m sorry. Was that too fast?” He takes me by the waist and slides me off the counter.

“No. It’s not that.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“No, you didn’t do anything. This is really bad timing for my denial to lift.” I’m not sure if he understood what I said because my emotions are making my speech thick.

“Talk to me. What happened?”

“Will you just hold me for a minute?” I’m trying to get my emotions in check before I try to explain.

He must realize he had dropped his hands to his sides because he takes a deep breath and then wraps them back around me. There is not a millimeter of space between us. His presence is the only thing keeping me together while the thoughts I should’ve been thinking all night finally surface.

What if my mom is pregnant? Having a baby is going to ruin us. We can’t afford it. And what kind of guy is Matthew? Is he going to run when he finds out? How can my mom have made the same mistake twice? If I thought I had a tiny bit of hope of leaving the doll store and starting a life of my own, this would make that almost impossible.

A single tear escapes and I swipe it away quickly with the back of my hand.

“You’re scaring me, Caymen. What is it?”

“My mom.”

“Is she okay?” He sounds alarmed.

“She might be pregnant.”





Chapter 32



Xander curses under his breath. “Man, Caymen, I’m sorry.” That’s all he says for a while. His fingers create a trail on my back: across, down, over, up. They repeat the pattern over and over. “When did you find out?”

“Tonight.” I sigh. “Or maybe she’s not. And I’m wishing so bad she’s not. But if she isn’t that means something else is wrong with her and that I’m a horrible daughter for thinking even for a split second that I’d rather her be anything but pregnant.”

He pushes me out by the shoulders and I let him. When we meet eyes he says, “What can I do?”

“Make this all a dream that I can wake up from tomorrow.”

He pulls on his bottom lip. “I feel like I took advantage of you tonight. I’m sorry. Had I known I would have never—”

“Stop,” I interrupt. “Don’t say that. I’ve been wanting to kiss you for weeks. Way before I found out about my mom, back when you used to walk me to school.”

His eyes flicker to my lips then back to my eyes. “You wanted to kiss me?”

“‘Want’ is the correct word. I want to kiss you.” I lean forward and brush my lips against his.

He pulls back a little. “Now I’d really be a jerk if we kissed. Come on. Let’s talk.” He leads me down the hall by my hand to a large theater room. Several overstuffed recliners set on different levels face a big white screen.