Point of Retreat (Slammed #2)(37)

While she’s inside, I get a text from my grandfather informing me that my grandmother is cooking us dinner. His text ended with the word “roast,” preceded by a hashtag.

"Great," I mutter to myself. I know Lake has no intentions of spending the evening with my grandparents. As soon as I text my grandfather letting him know we’re almost there, she returns to the car.

“They’re cooking dinner for us. We won't stay long,” I say.

She sighs. “How convenient. Well, then take me to get a new battery first so we can get it over with.”

I don’t respond as I pull out of the bookstore and head toward my grandparent’s house. She’s been to their house a couple of times before, so she knows when we get closer that I have no intentions of stopping at the store.

“You've passed like three stores that sell batteries," she says. "We need to get one now in case it's too late on our way back."

“You don’t need a battery. Your battery is fine,” I say.

I avoid looking over at her but I can see her watching me, waiting for more explanation.

I don’t immediately respond. I flick the blinker on and turn onto my grandparent’s street. When I pull into their driveway, I turn the car off and tell her the truth. What harm could it do at this point?

“I unhooked your battery cable before you tried to leave today.” I don’t wait for her reaction as I get out of the car and slam the door. I’m not sure why I slam the car door. I’m not mad at her, I’m just frustrated. Frustrated that she doubts me after all this time.

“You what!?” she yells. When she gets out of the car, she slams her door intentionally.

I keep walking, shielding the wind and snow with my jacket until I reach the front door. She rushes after me. I almost walk inside without knocking but remember how it feels, so I knock.

“I said I unhooked your battery cable. How else was I going to convince you to ride with me?”

"That's real mature, Will." She huddles closer to the front door, further away from the wind. I hear footsteps nearing the entryway from inside when she turns to face me. She opens her mouth like she's about to say something else, then rolls her eyes and turns away. The front door swings open and my grandmother steps aside to let us in.

“Hi Sara,” Lake says with a fake smile as she hugs my grandmother.

My grandmother returns her hug and I walk in behind them.

“You two got here just in time. Kel and Caulder are setting the table,” she says. “Will, take both your jackets and go put them in the dryer to get the snow off so they won’t be so wet when you leave.”

My grandmother walks back toward the kitchen and I remove my jacket and head to the laundry room without offering to take Lake’s. I smile when I hear her stomping angrily after me. Being the nice guy has obviously not helped my case at all, so I guess I’ll just start being the jerk. I throw my jacket into the dryer and step aside so she can do the same. After she shoves her jacket inside, she slams the dryer door shut and turns it on. She spins around to exit the laundry room but I'm blocking her way. She shoots me a dirty look and tries to ease passed me, but I don’t budge. She steps back and folds her arms across her chest and looks away, giving me the silent treatment. She’s going to stand here until I move out of her way. I’m going to stand here until she talks to me. I guess we'll be here all night.

She tightens her ponytail and leans against the dryer, crossing her legs at the ankles. I lean against the laundry room door and stand in the same position as I stare her down, waiting for something. I'm not sure what it is I'm trying to get out of her right now; I just want her to talk to me.

She wipes snow off the shoulder of her shirt. She's wearing the Avett shirt I bought her at the concert we went to no less than a month ago. We had the best time that night; I never would have imagined then that we would be in the predicament we’re in right now.

I finally give in and speak first. "You know, for someone giving me the silent treatment like a five-year-old, you sure are quick to accuse me of being immature."

She cocks her eyebrows at me and laughs. "Seriously? You have me trapped in a laundry room, Will! Who's being immature?"

She tries to move past me again, but I continue to block her way. She's flush against me now as she pathetically tries to shove against my chest to get by. I have to fight the urge to wrap my arms around her. We're practically face to face when she finally gives up again and stops pushing me. She's inches from me now, staring at the floor, waiting for me to get out of her way. She may have her doubts about my feelings for her, but there is no way she can doubt the sexual tension between us. I take her chin in my hand and gently pull her face toward mine.

“Lake,” I whisper. “I’m not sorry about what I did to your car. I’m desperate. I’d do anything at this point just to be with you. I miss you.”

She looks away so I bring my other hand to her face and force her to look me in the eyes. She tries to pull my hands away but I refuse to let go. The tension between us increases as we hold each other's stare. I can tell she wants to hate me so bad right now, but she loves me too much. There’s a struggle of emotion in her eyes. She can't decide whether or not she wants to punch me or kiss me.

I take advantage of her moment of weakness and slowly lean in and touch my lips to hers. She presses her hands against my chest and half-heartedly tries to push me away, but she doesn’t pull her mouth away from mine. Rather than honor her request for ‘space,’ I lean into her even further and part her lips with mine. Her hands weaken their pressure against my chest as her stubbornness finally caves and she lets me kiss her.