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“You said I make you feel squishy.”
She blushes. “Yes.”
“Good.”
She crinkles her eyes at me.
Yep. I am really and truly fucked.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Zarah
Iknow I sound like a toddler, our conversation skipping from one touchy subject to the next, especially compared to last night. I was able to hold my own with Stella, Zane, and Tate, and Zane even complimented me on the way home, saying I was sounding better. I’m proud of that because I’m working hard to fight all the drugs. It’s mentally exhausting, but Jerricka says it’s good for me and it will get easier.
I wish it was easier now. I’m nervous around Gage. I like him, and I want him to like me, too.
The dogs are having so much fun chasing each other around the trees. Sometimes they double back, tearing through the snow-covered grass near the house, then racing through the woods.
Gage is steady by my side, helping me over forest debris even though I don’t need it. Maybe he likes touching me. I would like that.
I want to ask him to kiss me...I want to know what it feels like to kiss someone who makes my heart beat faster. Max andI kissed, exploring. He tried to go slow, but sometimes it would still be too much. I hadn’t been out of Quiet Meadows long, and I was on a lot more drugs than I am now.
Spending time with Gage does funny things to my insides, and if I tried to explain it to Stella, she’d say it’s attraction. Gage is handsome, and my fingers itch to touch him. Arousal is why people who don’t love each other have sex.
I can’t tell if Gage feels the things I feel. Probably not. He has the woman who works at the café. She doesn’t have the issues I have.
“I suppose we should head back soon,” he says. “We’ve been out over an hour.”
“Okay.” My chance is slipping away. “You have to be strong for your job,” I say, turning on the trail that will lead us back to the house.
“It comes in handy.”
I can’t tiptoe around what I want him to do. People can’t read my mind and I need to use my words. “Can you pick me up? Will you kiss me?”
He frowns and stares, searching my face.
“Will you pick me up? Because I’m short.”
“I can pick you up, Zarah, without the kissing.”
“Then why would you pick me up?”
“Why do you want me to kiss you?”
“I want to know how it feels to kiss someone who makes me feel squishy inside.”
He blows out a breath. “You tell me if you want me to stop, okay? Ido notwant you scared of me. I mean it. Youneverhave to do anything with me that you don’t want to do.”
I feel safe, and I trust him. “Okay.”
He scoops me up, one hand under my knees, the other behind my back. My stomach dips a little, in a good way, and I let out a squeak, laughing. The movement brings me closer to hisface, and I drink in the slash of dark eyebrows, his strong nose, full lips. His scruff covers a chiseled jaw. I don’t see any of Max in his features, and for a reason I can’t explain, I find comfort in that.
He lowers his head, and I hold my breath. So lightly I can barely feel it, he presses his lips to mine. Tentatively, I wrap my arms around his neck, and as he moves his lips, I sink into the kiss. A whimper climbs out of my throat, and I hang on tight.
We kiss in the middle of the woods, Gage holding me against his solid chest, his lips nuzzling mine, and I never want this to stop.
But it does, and he lifts his head. “Zarah, what are we doing?”