different colors from the TV swayed over his face.
“If you want to drive yourself to school, Em, you don’t have to ask for my permission,” he said, tucking a curl behind my ear. “You can do whatever you want.”
“I know. I didn’t ask for that reason.” I felt terrible for lying. Terrible for what I planned to do tomorrow. Terrible that everything could change if I found something.
“Okay.” His dark gaze searched my face. I felt my stomach drop. “Em, do you like this? I mean, we haven’t really talked about this.” A faint blush stained his cheeks. “You know, about what we’re doing.”
Relief swamped me, but then I realized this was also a serious conversation. Like,
Were we moving to “title” territory? Somehow that seemed just as important as the files in Cromwell’s office.
I sat back. “What are we doing?”
Hayden ran a hand over his head, and then dropped his arm to his knee. “I really don’t know how to put what we’re doing into words.”
“Me, neither.”
“You know I… like you?”
“Like” was such a lame word. “Yeah.”
“For awhile now, and well, I don’t want how I feel about you to influence how you feel about me.”
I frowned. “Uh…”
A tiny grin appeared. “What I mean is—I don’t know what I mean.” He laughed self-consciously and shook his head. “I’m not very good at this. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I don’t know if what we have between us is because you can touch me, or something else.”
I’d never really looked at it that way, but I could see how he would. My options were painfully limited. “Hayden, are you asking me if I only like you because you’re the only guy I can touch?”
His gaze flicked off my face. “Yeah, I guess that’s what I’m asking.”
I scooted closer. “I like you because I can touch you.”
Hayden’s head jerked back to me. He opened his mouth, but I held up my hand. “Wait. It’s more than that. When I first came here, I didn’t trust you—trust any of you, really. But out of everyone here, you were nice to me. You talked to me and you… you believed in me. You didn’t treat me like a freak.”
“Because you’re not a freak,” he said seriously.
“I’ve felt like queen of the freaks for two years, but I never felt that way around you. Anyway, you’re funny and you’re nice. And you’re smart. I trust you—obviously. I’ve told you and showed you things that not even Adam knew about.” I shook my head. “And you’re—”
“Hot?” he asked with overt innocence.
I laughed. “That too, but it’s more than all of that. And I like you. I really do.” Even that sounded stupid to me. “I don’t know.” My pulse picked up, and my palms felt gross. “Does that tell you anything?”
“Yes,” he said softly.
“I don’t know what any of it means. I’m… not used to any of this, but yeah, I like you.”
Hayden scooted down, wrapping his hands around my arms. “You know I think you’re amazing.”
I knew my face was on fire. I think I nodded.
“And I don’t feel this way,” he brought my hands to his chest, over his heart, “about anyone else.”
Hayden locked eyes with me, and I really felt on fire then. “So where does that leave us?”
“We’re… dating?”
“No.” His expression was full of desire, along with another emotion, one that thrilled and frightened me. “‘Dating’ doesn’t sound right.”
I swallowed, unable to look away. “Then, what?”
“I think you know.” Hayden pulled me forward as he lay back, his hands spread over my back. “Do you want me to say it?”
“Yeah,” I breathed.
“Come closer.”
I lowered my head. “Close enough?”
Hayden closed the minute distance between us and brushed his lips over mine. It was just a touch, but I stopped breathing all together. When the kiss deepened, I lost track of the world around me, and the fact that he never answered the question. Not that he needed to. This kiss was beyond silly titles. This kiss was something—I pulled back when I felt Hayden’s fingers spasm. We’d gone too long. Both of us were breathing heavily, and a sudden realization floored me.
This could be the last time I ever kissed him. A sharp, stabbing pain sliced through my chest. Would Hayden forgive me for exposing Cromwell?
I didn’t think so.
And I didn’t want to waste another moment with him. His hands spread up my back, over my shoulders. When he put some space between us, I made a sound of protest. But then his hands were on the move again, stealing down the front and under the hem of my shirt. His knuckles brushed close to my navel. At once, fire and ice coursed through me.
Somehow my shirt ended up on the floor, and I should’ve felt embarrassed. I’d never been this exposed with a boy before and with the scars… but in the soft light and under his intense stare, I’d never felt more perfect in my life.
His shirt stayed on, and so did the rest of his clothes. Obviously, we could only take this so far, but I could still feel the heat through his clothes and it felt amazing—especially when his hands grasped my hips and he held me close, our lips touching every so often, our bodies rocking together.
It was the simplest of touches that got to me the most. Just being able to be this close to him felt a thousand times better than anything I could ever imagine—like lightning shooting through my veins each time he whispered my name.
Amidst all these wonderful sensations, my heart swelled so big I was sure it would explode from my chest. I knew what it was. I knew what I was feeling.
I was in love with him.
My stomach twisted and turned from the moment I stepped into the shower until I climbed in my Jeep.
Instead of focusing on the huge part of me that wanted to forget all of this, I set my plan into motion. A nervous sort of excitement thrummed through my veins and so did a measure of dread, but I felt kind of badass.
Like a spy or something.
I’d patiently sit through three of my morning classes before skipping out. Waiting any longer would be risky. I ended up getting to school way too early. The corridors were unusually silent, and my footsteps echoed down the hall. As I made my way toward my locker, I couldn’t help but feel a little creeped out. I half-expected the lights overhead to flicker out and a gruesome one-handed, one-toothed janitor to jump out at me.
I didn’t feel so badass then.
I shook my head in an attempt to get rid of the image and focused on my locker. Even though I knew there wouldn’t be anything in it, the locker still filled me with unease. Phoebe had officially traumatized me when it came to lockers.
Drawing in a deep breath, I closed my eyes and unlocked it. A couple of heartbeats went by, then maybe a minute, and I pried one eye open. It was, of course, empty.
By the end of English, I started to feel queasy and my temples felt like they were about to explode from the pressure in my head. My nerves were getting to me and I knew I was going to chicken out if I waited as long as I’d planned. When the bell rang at the end of second period, I gathered my stuff up in a rush and hurried from the classroom.
I stopped at the front doors. Fat raindrops splattered against the pavement. My hair was about five seconds from turning into a giant frizzball. Chewing on my lip, I glanced over my shoulder and about fell over.
Mr. Theo stood by the entrance of the admin offices, chatting with another teacher. If he turned his head, I was so busted. Then he did look up, right at me. I started to back away from the door, but he raised a brow and
