Don't Kiss the Messenger (Edgelake High School, #1)(68)

But something was off. Her body was responding but something was missing.

I leaned my forehead against hers. My lips moved from her hair to her lips, to her ear.

“Talk to me,” I whispered.

She ran her hands down my chest. She yanked at the button on my jeans. “This is me, talking.”

I loved the sensation but I wanted more.

“Say something like your emails. Talk like you write.”

“Um. I think you’re perfect,” she breathed. “You’re such a great guy. I love your hair.”

I leaned my mouth into her neck and laughed. She was getting shy with me again. I locked eyes with her.

“Drop the act,” I told her.

“What?” Her eyes widened.

Come on, I said without saying anything. It’s me. It’s us. We’re perfect.

She looked over at her phone, lying on the bed next to us and back at me. “You mean, you know?” There was fear in her voice. I knew she was afraid to get hurt. But I needed all of her, the twisted and the straight, the perfect and the flawed.

I nodded and her shoulders tensed. I didn’t want her to hold back. I pulled her fingers out of my hair and held them in mine. I pressed our hands down into the mattress.

I brushed my lips against hers, teasing them. “I know you.” I lifted my face back so I could look in her eyes. “You don’t have to act perfect around me. I know you’re scarred and fucked up and believe me, that is such a relief. That is so much better to me than perfect.”

My fingers squeezed around hers, like I was physically trying to pull her out of her skin. I was trying to make her relax, but it only seemed to set her on edge.

“Say something real,” I said.

She pulled her hand back and squirmed her way out from under me. I sat up and stared at her.

“I gotta pee,” she said. “Again.” She got up and darted toward the bathroom.

…

CECE

Later that night, Bryn let herself in through the front door. I had been drowning my sorrows in hot chocolate and An Officer and a Gentlemen. Richard Gere could always soothe a heartache. I looked up as Bryn unzipped her coat.

“How did it go?” I asked.

“Awful.”

“You broke up?” I tried not to sound hopeful.

“Worse.” She sighed and sat down next to me on the couch. “He told me he loved me. Sober. To my face. Most guys at least text that kind of stuff.”

Her words hit my heart like arrows. I slumped deeper into the couch, aching from the blow. I had been disillusioned enough to think that one day he would confess those words to me.

Tuba walked in the room and one look at me was enough to catch her up on the conversation.

“He said these weeks were torture to be away from me,” Bryn complained. “He said he had to taste the words that come out of my mouth. He actually said that! What the hell, CeCe?”

Tuba looked over at me. “Looks like we have a budding Danielle Steele on our hands,” she said. Bryn just stared between us, completely missing the reference.

“It gets worse,” Bryn said. “He told me he first fell for me because I was beautiful, but then he said none of that even mattered anymore. That my thoughts are more beautiful than anything and that’s what he loves most about me.”

I looked up at Bryn.

“He said that?” I asked.

She nodded. “That really pissed me off,” Bryn continued. “So I asked him what he would think if I was ugly and he told me he wouldn’t care.” She huffed and stuck her hands on her hips. “That is the biggest line of B.S. I have ever heard. Guys totally care about looks.”

Tuba nodded, slowly. “Yeah, but they care about other things, too.”

“Looks are most important,” Bryn shot back.

“But they’re not the only thing that’s important,” Tuba argued.

I was barely listening. Was it true? Did he really mean it? He loved her more for her mind than her looks? It didn’t take a rocket scientist to fill out the answer to the equation, then, on who he was in love with.

“So, he likes you for your mind, and it’s a problem?” Tuba asked.

“I’m proud of the way I look. I like being noticed. The way he wants me, it’s too much pressure.”

I sighed and ran my hands over my face. Bryn looked over at me.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m so sorry, Bryn. It started off so harmless, just some texts. Then it became something more. I couldn’t stop. It felt so good to be desired for once, it was like a drug.”

I held up my hands in defeat. Finally, I came clean.

Bryn’s mouth fell open with realization. “Oh my God, CeCe. I can’t believe I didn’t see it. This whole time, you’ve been falling for Emmett.”

“No—”

“You’re in love with him,” Bryn stated. She fell down next to me on the couch.

“That’s not—no, I’m not,” I stammered.

Bryn slapped her hand over her mouth as another idea took hold. “Oh my God. Emmett is in love with you!”

I shook my head, denying the words and throwing them back.

“No, he loves you. He wants you. He could never think about me like that. It was your face that he fell for, not mine.”