More Than A Kiss (More Than Best Friends Book 2) by Sally Henson

Author:Sally Henson [Henson, Sally]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dirt Road Press
Published: 2018-12-11T05:00:00+00:00

18

Regan

The nocturnal creatures aren’t doing a very good job tonight. Another bead of moisture streams down my cheek. I sniff and wipe tears from my skin with the soft sheet. My body is all knots inside and out.

A prickle of goosebumps surfaces on the back of my neck, making the tiny hairs stand on end. It moves down my spine. Slowly, I scan across my room to check the door. It’s still closed; no one’s there.

“Regan?”

I jump, and gasp. My heart flies against my chest. I whip my head toward the window.

Lane’s face pops up and peeks through the screen. “Regan, it’s me.” His voice is a whisper.

I’m breathless and can’t even respond. My hands press against my chest, trying to calm my heart that’s beating out of control. I drop back onto my mattress, clutching my shirt over my heart.

“Come outside,” he pleads.

I crawl to the window. “What are you doing here? You scared me.”

He presses his hand against the screen. “Come out, please.” His voice is soft, beckoning.

When he talks like that … it melts my resolve. I press my hand to his on the screen. “Give me a minute.”

I pull on a pair of yoga pants, glancing at my clock. My parents should be sound asleep. I crack open my door to make sure no one’s stirring. It’s clear.

Lane pulls the door open when I turn the knob of the back door. The cool air washes over my face. I should be warm enough.

Lane’s hair is pointing in every direction. Eyes droopy, he’s even wearing pajama pants with his rubber boots. I almost laugh out loud at his pant legs—one tucked in his boot, one scrunched up.

I shut the door quietly. I’m so glad he came. I hate fighting with him.

“Why didn’t you use my sweatshirt if you were cold earlier? Or ask me to warm you up like you always do?”

My chin drops to my chest, igniting a torch inside me. I spin on my heel, narrowing my eyes to respond to his ridiculous question. “Seriously?” I drag him out to the shed, away from the house. “Why didn’t you ask me if I was cold? You clearly saw me sitting there, shivering. And why would I ask you for anything after your cute little display of affection for Stacey, my arch enemy? At least you could have the decency to humiliate me with a girl who’s, who’s … not Stacey. And in front of our friends?” I turn away from him, shaking my head. My stomach twists in knots and the fire deteriorates into heartbreak. I lean my back against the back of Mom’s Jeep, folding my arms in front of me.

He sighs. I can feel his eyes on me, but I don't want to look at him. “You didn't want me touching you after we left the barn.” I hear him move closer to me.

“I didn't want to give Stacey any fuel for her gossip inferno.” I push out an angry, bitter sneer. “A lot of good that did me.

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