Crash into You

Page 12

The blood pounds so wildly in my veins that he has to sense the vibration. There’s a magnetic pull taking over the small distance between our lips. An energy I can’t resist. My head inclines opposite his and the moment I close my eyes, his mouth brushes mine.
Soft. Warm. Gentle. His lips move slowly, exerting pressure. And I feel like I can’t breathe, yet like I’m flying. The pressure ends, but his mouth stays near mine. His hand grips my waist and my spine gives at the shockingly right pleasure of his touch.
Isaiah senses my weakness and his hand snakes its way around my waist, his strong arm holds me up. And he explores again. A little pressure on my lower lip. A little pressure on the top. And then I remember that I’m supposed to kiss him back.
Nerves send small shock waves through my chest, and my hand trembles as I raise it to his shoulders. I press both my lips into his lower one right as my fingers caress the side of his neck. Isaiah shivers. In a good way, I think.
I open my mouth to ask when his lips move fast against mine, sucking in my lower one, causing warmth and excitement to explode in my body, the aftermath of that divine encounter melting every piece of me.
I moan, and Isaiah’s arm tightens, bringing my body closer to his. My lips maneuver against his in response. A yes to his pulling me closer. A yes to his lips taking in mine. A yes to the fact that he allows me to perform the same succulent kiss on him.
I can’t help it. I permit the tip of my tongue to barely brush his lower lip. Isaiah curls my hair into his fist and I love how my touch affects him, affects me. Wrapping my other arm around his neck, I lose all sense of independence with his sweet taste.
I like this. I like this a lot.
Isaiah takes over again and kisses me gently once more. Twice. The third time a little longer. And then his lips let me go.
Chapter 15
Isaiah
RACHEL SMILES.
It’s a beautiful smile. One that brightens the rat-infested attic room. No one has ever smiled like that at me. No one. Everything inside me twists with the need to keep her close.
I should be pissed. Who knows if I’ll ever see the money from Eric. Who knows if Noah and I will lose the lease, sending me back into the system. Right now, I don’t fucking care. I’m touching an angel.
My spine prickles as the window near the fire escape groans. My grip on Rachel tightens, and I bring her up with me as I stand. A leg pokes through the widening gap, and I shove Rachel behind me. Every instinct screams to protect her, to fight. I automatically widen my stance and hold my arms out at my sides, willing to take whatever bullet is coming our way, willing to run right into the bastard the moment he’s through.
With half of his body in, Noah halts in the window frame. His muscles tense as he warily sizes me up. “Rough night, bro?”
I lower my arms. “We’ve got a fucking door, man.”
Noah shuts the window and attempts to lock it, only to curse as he remembers that the latch is still broken. “Forgot my key at Echo’s. Your car’s not out there so I assumed you weren’t home.”
He walks to the bedroom and stops as his gaze shifts to what I’m assuming is Rachel. “My bad.” Noah pivots on his heel and heads for the door.
“Noah, wait.” Locking my arm around her shoulder, I bring Rachel to my side. “Don’t go.”
“It’s good.” He reaches for the doorknob with one hand and rubs his eyes with the other. “I forgot something in my car.”
“Stay.” I glance at the clock. It’s after one. He’s been pulling morning shifts at his job and will need to be awake in a few hours. The guy’s wiped with black circles under his eyes, but has my back because he thinks I’m trying to score. “I was going to walk Rachel to her car.”
“You sure?” He jacks his thumb in the direction of the stairwell.
“Yeah. Don’t sweat it. Rachel—Noah. Noah, this is Rachel.”
His eyebrows slowly rise so that they disappear beneath his hair. He and I, we don’t introduce each other to the girls we bring home. In the past, sometimes the one-nighters became clingy and neither one of us wanted the other dealing with that situation. Of course, Noah’s not like that anymore. Now that he has Echo.
Noah’s eyes sway between me and her. “S’up, Rachel.”
“Nothing,” she says as if wondering if her response is correct. Rachel leans closer to me and I stroke her shoulder in an act of comfort and in the hopes Noah sees that Rachel is more than a fuck.
“I think I left my bracelets in the bathroom.” Like a small bird in flight, Rachel flits across the room and abruptly closes the bathroom door behind her. Drywall drops from the ceiling and scatters across the kitchen floor.
Noah’s mouth tugs up. “Guess that means we’re losing our security deposit.”
I spread my arms out and half whisper, half yell, “What the hell? She’s not a whore.”
“Never said she was.” He crosses the room and opens the fridge. “Want a beer?”
Sure. Why don’t I go ahead and light a joint while I’m at it? I follow him and place my hand on the open door of the fridge to get his attention while still whispering. “I’m serious. She’s not like that. Treat her with some respect.”
Noah twists off the top of an MGD and surveys me while he swallows. “I thought I was treating you both with respect.” He also lowers his voice when I gesture at the bathroom to indicate I don’t need her overhearing this conversation. “I tried to leave.”
“You made her think she was a one-night stand.” I slam the refrigerator door shut.
“Excuse the shit out of me. I thought she was.” He points his beer at me. “You’re not dating. The last girl you touched was Beth.”
My fists ball at the mention of her name, and Noah waves me off. “And don’t start on that shit. She’s gone, she’s happy and she ain’t coming back. And, yeah, I still talk to her because she’s the closest thing I’ve got to a sister, so I can say her damned name if I want to.”
“Noah,” I say as a warning.
“Beth,” he tauntingly whispers. “Beth, Beth, Beth, Beth, Beth. If you’re going to take a swing at me, bro, do it, because I’m damn tired of walking on eggshells because of that girl.”
My heart rips open again with every acknowledgment of her existence. He needs to stop and he needs to stop now. Especially with Rachel here. I like her and I don’t need Noah ruining it with her by reminding me of a past that will never change. “You’re a cranky son of a bitch when you’re tired.”
The tension between us drains when Noah chuckles and swigs the beer. I’m not good at much, but I’m good at deflecting. He kneads his eyes with his fists again and releases a long breath. “Look, I walk in at 1:00 a.m. to find you holding a pretty girl wearing your shirt.”
He’s right. I overreacted. “Noah,” I interrupt.
“Do I sound like I’m done talking? It looked like you were hooking up so I assumed you were hooking up. My apologies. I’m sorry. I’m the asshole. It’s done so get the fuck over it. As for making her feel like a one-night stand, last time I checked, saying ‘s’up’ doesn’t translate to ‘thanks for banging my best friend.’ And do you want to tell me why the hell I’m whispering in my own apartment?”
“Because I like her.”
Noah blinks because words like that don’t come easily from me. He tilts up the bottle, finishes the rest and places the empty container on the counter. “That changes things.”
“As a friend,” I add quickly but then realize friends don’t kiss. Shit, I’ve messed this up.
The door to the bathroom opens and we both stare at Rachel. She plays with the gold bracelets on her wrist. “Sorry it took so long. My bracelets fell and rolled behind the sink and...it took a bit to get them out.”
Even Noah visibly cringes at the thought of anyone putting their hand in the two-inch gap behind the sink. “You should have called me,” I say. “I would have gotten them.”
Her gaze switches between me and Noah. “It’s all right. I got them. So—” she rocks on her toes “—are you ready to go?”
“Yeah. Let’s roll.”
Rachel gathers her coat from the couch and pauses when Noah says her name. Damn, Noah, don’t screw this up.
“Rachel,” he repeats, obviously searching for something good to say. “It was nice to meet you. You should come back. Meet my girl, Echo. We’ll hang out or some shit like that.”
Or some shit like that. I want to slam his head and my own into the wall.
“Okay.” She has that what-the-hell look people get when they watch reality TV. “It was nice to meet you, too.”
When her back’s to us both, I mouth at Noah, Or some shit like that?
He mouths back, I’m trying.
I unbolt the door and when she steps into the hallway, I whisper to him, “Real elegant, man. And the girls thought you were fucking smooth.”
Noah laughs. “I am smooth, bro. But now I’m only smooth with Echo.”
Right before I shut the door, I flip Noah off. His laughter rings through the hallway.
At the bottom of the stairs, Rachel waits for me to open the door. I’ve never seen a girl wait like that before or known a girl who’d make the assumption that a guy would open it for her. Rachel was probably raised to expect guys to open doors, and she’s probably around enough guys who were taught to do it.
I like that she waits, and I like opening it for her. When I was a kid, I preferred the guys my mom dated who did crazy stuff like that.
The cold air clings to my bare arms as we walk out onto the sidewalk. The temperature has dropped dramatically since we first met at the drag race. A moment that feels like lifetimes ago.
Rachel shivers and places her hands in her coat pockets, leaving me unsure of what to do. Is she cold and I should put my arm around her shoulder, or is she telling me to stay clear? The muscles tighten in my neck and I shake my head to clear the chaos. Get a grip, man. How can I be confused over a girl?
“Your roommate seems nice,” she says with forced lightness.
Her attempt to make us okay rattles me—in a good way. I can’t think of many people who have ever tried to make things work with me. “Noah’s great, but he was off tonight.”
“It’s okay. I’m sure it was weird to see a girl in his apartment.”
I pull at my bottom earring. I’ve been with other girls. The ones who were interested in being with the guy with the tattoos and earrings for a night. I’ve never minded being used. But with Rachel, there’s a softness that hits her eyes when she looks in my direction, and it’s messing with me.
“Tell him I’m sorry I was there so late,” she continues. “I don’t want him to think badly of me.”
“You...ah...” Didn’t pick up that he thought you were a one-night stand? “Weren’t scared of Noah?”
Rachel sort of laughs, “No.” She pauses. “Should I be? He seemed friendly.”