Page 38 of Heartstruck

Alli

Jared and I slip back inside through the side door and sneak into the laundry room, still catching signs of the commotion: my cousins arguing over who gets the last slice of pumpkin pie, but I don’t care.

Actually, scratch that. I do love pie, but it can wait.

A clenching sensation builds inside me—the kind that only he seems to bring out in me. His hand brushes mine as we step further inside, and even that shy touch sends my pulse racing. Unable to resist, I yank on Jared’s shirt, pulling him closer before pressing my lips to his.

“Think they’ll notice we’re gone?” Jared breathes, a crooked grin pulling at the corner of his lips.

“Not a chance. They’re too busy interrogating my aunt’s new husband. Husband number three.”

“Aunt Yahira?”

“Mm-hmm,” I hum, leaning in again. The kiss deepens, and I thread my fingers through his hair, pulling him closer.

“Are you sure this isn’t an awful idea?” he insists.

I barely pull away, just enough to catch my breath, and with my lips brushing his, I whisper, “Stop talking.”

Jared chuckles lightly against my lips, and his hands settle on my waist, pulling me closer. I kiss him harder, letting the world fall away, until it’s just the two of us; the muffled sounds of my family’s laughter turn into background noise.

The sharp sound of a door slamming somewhere in the house snaps me back to reality. I jerk away, my breath coming in quick, uneven gasps, and I sneak a glance toward the laundry room door, half-expecting it to swing open any second.

“Scared you’ll get caught, Castillo?” Jared smirks, his hands lingering on my waist.

“Definitely not, but you’ve met my family,” I say, trying to play it cool. “Do you blame me?”

“Fair point,” he says, a light yet warm laugh escaping him.

His thumb brushes over my hip, a seemingly casual touch that sends a rush of electricity straight to my core.

Before I can gather my thoughts, his lips find mine again.

His hand slides up my side, the lightest brush of his fingers teasing until they graze my chest. A gasp escapes me, caught off guard by the sensation, and a shiver runs down my spine.

I glance at the door, my voice a rasp. “Lock it.” The words feel like a command, just as much for him as for myself, because the thought of being caught, exposed like this, rips at the restraint I have left.

The door clicks shut, and suddenly, it’s just us. As soon as I look back at Jared, he grips my hips and lifts me onto the washer like I weigh nothing. My legs wrap around him instinctively, pulling him closer until there’s nothing between us but lust and the erratic pounding of my heart.

His hands tighten, his fingers pressing into my skin like he’s barely holding himself together. When his fingertips skim beneath the waistband of my pants, a sharp gasp escapes me, my body arching into him like it has a mind of its own.

His gaze is molten. Dangerous. “You’re going to ruin me.”

A wicked thrill shoots through me. I meet his eyes, my voice low and daring. “Then do something about it.”

That’s all it takes. Whatever control he had? Gone. He lifts me again, his movements fueled by pure, unfiltered urgency. Clothes disappear in a chaotic blur, discarded without care because patience doesn’t exist in this space, not when I need him like this.

Jared drops to his knees, his hands gripping my thighs as his mouth finds me, wrecking me in seconds. My head tips back, fingers tangling in his hair as pleasure detonates through me, sharp and all-consuming.

“ Mierda ,” I breathe, barely holding on as the sensation drags me under.

He watches me the whole time, his eyes blazing, owning every reaction he pulls from me. I shatter, and before I’ve even caught my breath, we’re tangled on the futon, his body beneath mine.

I straddle him, hands braced on his shoulders as I sink down, a strangled moan slipping past my lips. The stretch, the fullness—it’s overwhelming in the best way, stealing the air from my lungs.

His palms over my hips guide my movements, his jaw clenched like he’s holding back. Something raw and real flickers on his face, but he looks away before I can read it.

I don’t push. Not now. Not when his hands are gripping me like he needs this just as badly as I do.

I move faster and harder, and then his lips crash into mine, swallowing my gasps as we chase the storm. Everything is fire. Everything is needed.

“Someone’s going to hear us,” I breathe, my nails digging into his chest as I ride him.

“I don’t care,” he growls. His hands lower me against him. “Let them hear how good you take me.”

The thrill of it spikes, and I feel that addictive tension coursing through me.

“God, you’re crazy,” I gasp, a nervous laugh escaping me. But even as I laugh, the need to feel him takes over, my body responding before my brain can catch up.

“Yeah, well, you’re not exactly stopping me,” he says, moving his hands to palm my breasts.

“We’ll get caught. I don’t.” I draw circles with my hips and lift my hair up to a ponytail, holding it with my hands—“know how long we’ve got.”

“Long enough,” he drawls, eyes dark with primal desire. “And trust me, if someone does walk in, they’ll know exactly what we’re doing. And I’m not stopping. Are you?”

I bite my lip, the rush of excitement and fear swirling together in a heady mix. And even with the possibility and danger of getting caught hanging over us, I can’t bring myself to care. I lean into him again, bouncing harder, faster, the need for release building with every pulse, every shift.

“Baby.” My voice trembles, and I grip him tighter as my body arches, chasing that sweet release, needing it to shatter through me.

“Come with me,” he whispers, his voice rough, dangerous with the raw intensity of it all.

My thighs tremble, both of us reaching the peak together. The release hits us like a force, blinding everything else. I collapse against him, feeling sore, yet completely satisfied.

Jared’s fingers trace along my back as if memorizing the feel of my skin beneath his touch. I catch a distant look in his eyes, and I pull back just enough to meet his hushed gaze.

His hand brushes a lock of hair from my face. “Alli…” He says my name like it’s a question, like he’s searching for answers.

My throat feels dry. “Yeah?”

“Thank you… for inviting me.”

I blink, momentarily thrown off. “Inviting you?”

A faint twitch tugs at the corner of his lips. “Into this. Into you. I think I love you.”

I freeze, every nerve in my body melting into liquid goo. “You think ?”

He lets out a breath, one that sounds too uneven for someone as confident as him. “No. I know. I’ve known for a while.” His eyes meet mine, unflinching. “I just didn’t know how to say it.”

A laugh, shaky and nervous, escapes me. “Well, you figured it out.”

“Yeah, but I might’ve messed this up. Because I’m in so deep, and if you don’t feel the same—”

“I do.” The words burst out of me, cutting him off. “God, I do.”

His lips brush against mine. It’s gentle, as if he’s trying to give me every piece of him. And for the first time, I let myself fall, knowing, without a doubt, that he’ll catch me.

Jared tucks away a lock of hair from my face, his touch so tender it feels like a promise. “Thank you for inviting me today, really. You didn’t have to, but you did. It means more than I can say.”

My throat tightens again, the emotions rising in me. I press my forehead to his, closing my eyes to ward them off. “Thank you for coming,” I whisper, a faint smile curving my lips.

The ghost of a grin shows on him. “And you letting me stay.”

Jared

The room is dim, sunlight peeking through the blinds in golden streaks that stretch across the bed.

I told myself ten minutes ago I’d get up, but her arm lies on my chest, making it impossible to leave.

We’d both crashed hard after going for seconds, both in the laundry room and with actual food.

Alli wasn’t kidding about her family’s pumpkin pie.

She’d insisted I try it, three slices, and I didn’t have the heart to turn her down.

Not that I could have, with the way her eyes lit up every time she piled another helping onto my plate.

Carefully, I shift, trying not to wake her as I slide her arm off me. She stirs, mumbling incoherent words, but doesn’t wake. A pang of guilt hits me. I’d stay here all day if I could, but I know better. Her family probably thinks I overstayed my welcome and forgot about my family.

I tiptoe toward the door, each step slow and deliberate, the old wooden floor creaking just enough to make me wince. I make it to the landing when I hear it, voices drifting up from below.

“… I just don’t understand why she brought him.”

The words stop me cold.

“I mean, Jared? Really?” another voice adds, sharp with judgment. I realize that’s her Tía Mary that I met a while back at Victoria’s party.

I grip the railing, frozen in place as my name hangs in the air.

“He’s just not… right for her. Allison could do so much better. Someone who doesn’t come with all that baggage.”

My jaw tightens, the words hitting harder than they should.

“Baggage?” The other person questions. “What do you mean?”

“I heard from my friend, whose son is on the team with him”— Tía Mary’s voice drops to a hushed volume—“that his mom’s been in and out of rehab for years. It’s a mess.”

“So what? That’s not his fault,” the other voice says.

“Maybe not, but do you think that doesn’t affect him? Or Allison? You know how sensitive she is and how much family means to her. He’s got trouble written all over him. What if he gets addicted to drugs just like his mom? I just hope she sees it before it’s too late.”

I clench my fists, the words replaying in my head on a loop.

I don’t know what stings more, that they think so little of me or that some part of me wonders if they’re right.

The whispers die down, replaced by the clinking of dishes, and I force myself to move, my feet carrying me back to the bedroom.

Alli is still asleep, her hair spilling across the pillow in waves, her hand loosely curled where it rests against the blanket. For a moment, the sight of her calms the storm raging inside me.

But the words stay, and it feels suffocating.

I sit on the edge of the bed, my head in my hands, thoughts swirling.

I don’t belong here. Maybe they’re right.