Hopeless (Hopeless #1)(48)



I slip my fingers through the hand that’s resting tightly against me and I squeeze it, not even knowing what it means, but every part of me wants to touch him and hold him and make sure he’s really here. I need to know he’s here and that this isn’t just another vivid dream.

His mouth meets my shoulder and he parts his lips, kissing me softly. The feel of his tongue against my skin immediately sends a surge of heat through me and I can feel the flush rise from my stomach, straight up to my cheeks.

“I know, baby,” he whispers again, slowly exploring my collarbone and neck with his lips. I keep my eyes shut because the distress in his voice and the tenderness in his touch is making my head spin. I reach up behind me and run my hand through his hair, pressing him deeper into my neck. His warm breath against my skin becomes increasingly more frantic, along with his kisses. Both of our breathing picks up pace as he covers every inch of my neck twice over.

He lifts up on his arm and urges me flat onto my back, then brings his hand to my face and brushes the hair away from my eyes. Seeing him this close to me brings back every single feeling I’ve ever felt for this boy…the good and the bad. I don’t understand how he can put me through what he’s put me through when the sorrow in his eyes is so prominent. I don’t know if it’s the fact that I can’t read him at all or if I read him too well, but looking up at him right now I know he feels what I’m feeling…which makes his actions that much more confusing.

“I know you’re mad at me,” he says, looking down at me. His eyes and his words are full of remorse, but the apology still doesn’t come. “I need you to be mad at me, Sky. But I think I need you to still want me here with you even more.”

My chest grows heavy with his words and it takes an extreme amount of effort to continue pulling breath into my lungs. I nod my head slightly, because I can completely agree to that. I’m pissed at him, but I want him here with me so much more than I don’t. He drops his forehead to mine and we grab hold of each other’s faces, looking desperately into each other’s eyes. I’m not sure if he’s about to kiss me. I’m not even sure if he’s about to get up and leave. The only thing I’m certain about right now is that after this moment, I will never be the same. I know by the way his existence is like a magnetic pull on my heart, that if he ever hurts me again, I’ll be far from just fine. I’ll be broken.

Our chests are rising and falling as one as the silence and tension grows thicker. The firm grip he has on my face can be felt in every part of me, almost as if he’s gripping me from the inside out. The intensity of the moment causes tears to sting at my eyes, and I’m completely taken aback by my unexpected emotions.

“I am mad at you, Holder,” I say with an unsteady, but sure voice. “But no matter how mad I’ve been, I never for one second stopped wanting you here with me.”

He somehow smiles and frowns in the same moment. “Jesus, Sky.” His face contorts into an incredible amount of reprieve. “I’ve missed you so f**king bad.” He immediately drops his mouth and his tongue collides feverishly with mine. He fills me with the sweet taste of his mint leaves and soda, and he’s everything I’ve been imagining he would be and more. Our lips are finally intertwining for the first time, or the twentieth time, or the millionth time. It doesn’t really matter because whichever time this is—it’s absolutely perfect. It’s incredible and flawless and almost worth everything we’ve been through in order to get to this moment.

Our lips move passionately together as we struggle to pull ourselves closer, wanting to find that perfect connection with our bodies that we’ve just found with our mouths. He works his mouth against mine delicately, yet fiercely, and I match him movement for movement. I release several moans and even more breaths and he drinks each one of them in with his mouth.

We kiss and we kiss in every position possible, and remain as restrained as we possibly can. We kiss until I can no longer feel my lips, and until I’m so exhausted and spent that I’m not even sure if we’re still kissing when he presses his head to mine again.

And that’s exactly how we fall asleep—forehead-to-forehead, wrapped silently together. Because nothing else is spoken between us. Not even an apology.

Saturday, September 29th, 2012 8:40 a.m.

I turn over to inspect the bed, half thinking what happened last night was a dream. Holder isn’t here, but in his place is a small gift-wrapped box. I push myself up against my headboard and pick up the gift. I stare at it for a long time before I finally lift the lid and look inside. It’s something that looks like a credit card, so I pick it up and read it.

He bought me a phone card with texting minutes. Lots of them.

I smile, because I know the significance of this card. It all lies within the message that Six sent him. He plans on stealing her girl, and he also plans on using a lot of her minutes. The gift makes me smile and I immediately reach to the nightstand and grab my phone. I have one missed text and it’s from Holder.

You hungry?

The text is short and simple but it’s his way of letting me know he’s still here. Somewhere. Is he making me breakfast? I go to the bathroom before heading to the kitchen and brush my teeth. I change out of my tank top and pull on a simple sundress, then gather my hair up in a ponytail. I look at my reflection in the mirror and I see a girl who desperately wants to forgive a boy, but not without a hell of a lot of groveling first.

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