#Selfie (Hashtag Series Book 4) by CAMBRIA HEBERT

Author:CAMBRIA HEBERT [Hebert, Cambria]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cambria Hebert Books, LLC
Published: 2015-05-16T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

Ivy

He gave the kind of kisses a girl sank into.

The kind that robbed your body of gravity, robbed your mind of reason, and sent ripples into your soul. I never really thought much about a person’s soul, but recently, it was hard not to. A human body was made up of organs, muscle, and bone. Feelings were reported to the brain, which then alerted everything else about what it should feel.

But what about the soul? What about that place deep inside you, the place that couldn’t be identified on a chart or a page in a book?

It didn’t have a bone or an organ.

It didn’t have blood.

The brain couldn’t send information to a place it didn’t know was there.

So where did these feelings come from? How were they so incredibly strong?

The only thing that made sense to me was my soul.

A person’s soul went beyond chemistry and brain synapses. It went beyond controlling the human body.

I pictured it like a ghost. Almost see-through, but not quite. It took any shape, molded to any form. That’s the reason it fit so deep inside, because it could conform to any shape, any hollow place. In fact, it was hard to even know it was there, haunting you, waiting for that one person it would connect to.

I was very, very afraid the person my soul had been looking for was found.

I was very afraid it was Braeden.

I’d been wearing his shirt for weeks. No one ever knew. As soon as we got home from Florida, I washed it twice and every last trace of my blood disappeared. But he remained. The way he looked wearing it. The way I used to watch it mold to his shoulders and arms.

I always wondered if it was as soft to the touch as I imagined it to be.

The answer was yes. Infinitely yes.

The first time I slipped it on, Rimmel had been at the shelter. I’d been alone in my room. I was feeling guilty for what I did with him, but even the guilt couldn’t stop me from reliving it over and over again.

The second his shirt slid over my skin, a piece of me—a piece of my soul—relaxed. So I kept wearing it. I wore it every chance I got when I was alone.

It didn’t smell like him, but when I closed my eyes, I sometimes pretended I was in his arms.

Of course, the reality of his arms was so much better than anything I could conjure in my head. The thunderous beating of my heart when I opened the door and saw him there was unmatched. The way he looked at me. The way he touched me. The way he whispered my name.

My hands still trembled. It had been days.

How was I supposed to go out with Trent now? How would I convince myself if I just tried, I could push Braeden out of my head?

Even if I succeeded, he would still be inside me. In my soul.

The food court was busy today, as it always was during the lunchtime rush.

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