Daring the Bad Boy (Endless Summer)(53)

“It’s not wrong. I’m glad you feel that way. I’m glad I’m alive, too. I feel lucky.” She dipped her head, looking down as she spoke. “I realized last year that if I was the one who died, I’d want him to live life to the fullest. Which was something I really wasn’t doing. Until I came here.”

“Summer camp changed your life?” I smiled, my fingers sliding out of her hair to actually skim her cheek, tipping her face up so her gaze met mine once more. Her skin was soft, and she trembled beneath my touch.

“No. You did,” she whispered, her gaze meeting mine.





Chapter Eighteen


ANNIE

Regret slammed into me hard when I saw his face after I said those words. I wanted to snatch them back, or hit the rewind button and pretend they never existed. He looked shocked, like I’d just stunned him silent with my admission.

I probably shouldn’t have said that. I probably shouldn’t have turned the night so serious with my confession about my baby brother, either, but I wanted to be open with him. I wanted him to know all of my secrets. And I’d never told anyone what happened to my brother. We moved soon after, my parents wishing for a fresh start. Considering I wasn’t in school yet, it was the ideal time to take that chance. Once we moved, no one talked about Rory.

It was like he never even existed.

“You’ve changed my life, too,” Jake whispered and I blinked up at him, seeing the sincerity glowing in his eyes. He licked his lips, his gaze dropping to my mouth, and I knew. I just knew that the moment I’d been waiting for was now.

He moved closer, angled his head as I lifted mine, and my eyes fell shut just as his mouth landed on mine. His lips were soft and full, warm and damp, and they lingered before he slowly pulled away.

My eyes cracked open to find him right there, watching me, so close and all mine to touch. I reached up and traced my fingers along the line of his jaw, the faint stubble growing there abrading my fingertips, and then his mouth was on mine once more. This kiss was longer, deeper. Leaving me breathless, making me want more. His hand cupped my face, his thumb skimming my jaw as I slipped my hand around his nape, diving my fingers into his hair.

His other arm slid around my waist and he gathered me close, his kiss growing firmer, his lips more insistent and making my head spin. A rush of heat swept through my body, and I forgot all about my troubles, my worries, everything, until all I could see and feel and taste was him.

He parted my lips with his tongue, and I let him. He cupped the back of my head, holding me captive, and I let him do that, too. I didn’t want him to ever stop. My first kiss was everything I wished it could be, with a boy who meant so much, even though I’d known him for only a short time. But he’d already become more than I could ever truly express to him.

Did he feel the same way? If I could 100 percent trust the way he kissed me, I would say yes. But I didn’t know. I didn’t think it was all one-sided, our feelings for each other, but I didn’t want to be the one who wanted more while he felt differently…

“If I don’t stop now, I don’t think I’ll ever want to stop,” he said once we ended the kiss. He pressed his forehead to mine, our accelerated breaths mingled together, and I smiled, wishing he would just kiss me again. I didn’t want to talk. We could just express all of our pent-up feelings with our lips attached.

Instead, he pulled away, shifting his arm so it was around my shoulders once more, and we both leaned back against the chair, staring up at the sky. The stars were out in force, since there was only a quarter of the moon making an appearance, and I tried my best to catch my breath. Calm my racing heart, my racing thoughts.

Did I kiss him okay, or maybe it wasn’t good enough? I’d never kissed a boy before, and I just followed his lead. But what if he thought I was totally inept? What if he preferred a girl with more experience, one who knew what she wanted and had no fear of going after it? I so wasn’t that girl. I was slowly learning how to be brave, but I wouldn’t call myself fearless.

All the questions piled up, one after another, especially since he remained so quiet. I started nibbling on my thumbnail, an old habit I’d been trying to break for the longest time.

“Thank you for telling me,” he finally said, his deep voice quiet. Steady.

Calming me enough that I dropped my hand into my lap.

“Telling you what?” I kept my gaze locked on the sky, and I could feel him turn to look at me. I liked the way I felt when he watched me. Like I was special. Like I meant something to him.

“About what happened to you, and how you lost your brother.” He reached over with his free hand and grasped hold of mine, interlocking our fingers. “We have something in common.”

My earlier worried thoughts evaporated in an instant, what with the way he kept sliding our fingers together. He rubbed his thumb across mine, back and forth, back and forth, his touch downright hypnotic, and my whole body tingled when he drew circles on my palm with his thumb. “What do you mean?”

“We both lost someone. Your brother died, and my mom died.” He hesitated. “I’ve never known anyone my age who’d lost someone from their family before. We probably understand each other better than anyone else.”

I finally turned to look at him and caught the sadness in his eyes. He held my hand tight, as if he needed the connection, and I angled my body more fully toward him, reaching out to touch his face. He lifted his gaze to mine, the sadness still there, raw and unmasked. He was hiding nothing from me, and I couldn’t help but feel honored he believed me worthy enough that he was able to reveal his true self, without all the walls he usually threw up.