Nowhere But Here (Thunder Road #1)(72)

Oz tosses his arms out. “Why should I try? Olivia’s been busting her ass asking you question after question and you sit around giving her half-truths. Eli’s been doing this dance with you for the past seven years. Why the hell would I want to play monkey for someone who doesn’t respect anyone else?”

“Oh my God!” I shriek. “I don’t ask about you because there’s nothing to know. You graduated from high school and your job is to follow me around. I have ears. I listen. Especially when everyone thinks I’m not. Following me around is your job for some stupid reason and you are perfectly okay with that. What type of life is this? Olivia says do something, you do it. Eli calls or texts and you’re immediately on your feet. Nope, you don’t play monkey for me because you’re already doing it for everyone else!”

Oz towers over me. “You have no idea what the club means!”

A voice tells me to stop, but I can’t. A raging flood has taken over my thoughts and my emotions are being carried away by the rapid current. “And when you aren’t busy doing what everyone wants you obsess over Olivia.”

“She’s dying!”

“But at least she’s living. Can you say the same?”

“Like you know anything about living. You never take a risk!”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

“But not fully engaged. When the hell are you going to step outside of yourself and experience what’s going on around you? You have a huge family I would kill to be blood-related to and you can’t appreciate it to save your life!”

“Take me back to Olivia’s.”

Oz lowers his tone and those blue eyes freeze into ice. “Not until you jump off that rope.”

He wants me to cower. He wants me to boohoo and do what he demands, but that’s not going to happen. I step into his personal space. “Can’t make me.”

His eyebrows shoot behind his hair. “I can’t?”

“You. Can’t.”

Oz stoops and before I can ask what he’s doing, his shoulder connects with my stomach and then I’m off the ground. A squeal leaves my mouth and my hair dangles over my face. I kick and Oz wraps both of his arms over my legs and locks them to him.

“Put me down!” I yell.

Oz’s response is to walk off the dock onto the grass, and he stalks around the edge of the lake toward the rope.

“I mean it! Put me down!”

He moves swiftly. Stealthily. As if my weight was nothing more than a helium balloon.

“You’ll have to put me down in order for me to grab on to the rope and I won’t do it! This is stupid.”

“You won’t have to,” Oz says. Some of the pressure releases from my legs and I wiggle for escape, but he still has a firm grip on me. “Because I’ll hold it for you.”

In less than a second, I slip down. My chest sliding against his until I’m face-to-face, nose-to-nose, lips near lips with Oz. His arm snakes around my waist and his strong hold squeezes us closer together until there’s no space left. I become aware. Very aware, and this awareness creates a warm tingle in my lower belly.

“Let me go,” I whisper, but there’s absolutely no conviction in my voice.

“I wish I could,” he mumbles. “But for some reason I can’t.”

Both of our chests rise and fall and my fingers curl into the hair near the base of his neck. My mouth dries out and I swear my blood vibrates with the beat of my heart.

The thick twined rope is by my head and Oz fists the cord in his hand. “If you don’t want to do this, tell me and I’ll let you go. I’m an *, but I’m not that bad of a person.”

“Will we leave after?” My eyes frantically search his face. “As soon as we jump into the water can we leave?”

Oz’s forehead wrinkles. “You’re not scared of the rope, are you?”

I shake my head and try to swallow the large lump forming in my throat.

“What are you scared of?” Oz glides his thumb across the bare skin of my back. The same type of caress he gave me weeks ago when he was trying to comfort me at the motel. Goose bumps spread rapidly along my arms and it’s a pleasurable sensation.

You. “Tell me what to do.”

“Emily—”

“Tell me what to do!”

“Hold on to me and when I tell you, you let go.”

I nod while wrapping my arms around his neck. I’ve accomplished this feat before—jumping from a rope swing—but I’ve never done it with another person. I could inform Oz of this. I could tell him I’m brave enough to do this on my own, but I like how my body presses to his. I like too much how his arm holds me tight.

Oz nuzzles my hair and his warm breath tickles the skin behind my ear. My knees weaken and I lean completely into him.

With a push off the ground, wind blows through my hair as the two of us defy gravity. My stomach performs summersaults as we coast up into the air, dip down and then swing high over the grass. We repeat the loop, three times. Each swing causing us to go higher in the air.

“On this one,” Oz says. “When we’re over the water—jump.”

The trees blur into green as we race past, then there is sparkling blue.

“Jump!” Oz shouts.