“We made a rule,” I whispered.
“Unlike you, I don’t follow rules.” He didn’t give me a chance to respond. His lips met mine and stole my willpower. I pressed closer to him. I tried to move my right hand to his hair but the seatbelt prevented me from getting closer. I searched blindly for the release button, not willing to separate myself from him to find it. He was faster. He unlatched my belt, then pulled me closer.
My hands found his hair, his neck, his shoulders. His hands found my hips, lifting and sliding me across the center console and onto his lap. There wasn’t enough room between him and the steering wheel but that didn’t stop me. My elbows rested on his shoulders as our kiss deepened.
And then a horn sounded, loud and long. I gasped and pulled away. It was me, I realized. My back was pushing on the horn. I laughed, maneuvering myself back into my own seat. Silence filled the air. My lips felt swollen, my cheeks hot.
“You’re in for it now,” I said, buckling my seatbelt again. “Attachment is in your future. I warned you.”
He smiled and opened the car door. When he arrived at the passenger door and opened it for me, I realized we needed to switch places. I needed to drive. How was I going to drive? How was I even going to walk around the car with my wobbly legs? When I stepped out, he didn’t move for me to walk around, though. He pressed me against the car and kissed me again, his warm hands over my ears. I went up on my tiptoes in answer. His warmth poured through my body and I felt like I would explode from happiness. I finally pushed on his chest, breaking the kiss. I was feeling too much, too fast.
Somehow I drove him home, wobbly legs and all, us barely speaking two words. When I pulled to a stop in front of the group home, he leaned over and brushed a kiss on my cheek, then another across my lips.
“See you,” he said in a gravelly voice, and was gone.
CHAPTER 38
I had kissed Dax. What did that mean? Did he want to be together? Did I? My head spun all night long with these thoughts and others. So many that my brain felt like it was going to explode. Guilt twisted my stomach until it felt like I was going to be sick. I tried to tell myself that Jeff and I weren’t together, were never together so there was no need to feel guilty. But I liked Jeff. I had been planning on being with Jeff for months, nearly a year now. Whatever was going on between me and Dax couldn’t happen. Not to mention if I walked away from Jeff now, everyone would hate me. All my friends would think I was a jerk. Dallin would only be proven right. Did Dax even want me to walk away from Jeff? Did kissing mean anything to him or was it just another distraction? I was so glad it was the weekend because I hardly slept at all.
The next morning I pulled down a bowl from the cupboard, feeling like a zombie. My mom had a pot of oatmeal ready on the stove and I dished myself two spoonfuls. She came humming into the kitchen as I added my fifth scoop of brown sugar.
“Did you want some oatmeal with your sugar?” she asked.
“Funny, Mom,” I said, taking one more scoop, then stirring it in until my oatmeal turned brown.
“You look tired,” she said.
My chest was tight with the familiar feeling of anxiety. “I am.”
“Everything okay?”
No, I wanted to scream. But then what? “I just have an unsolvable problem.”
“Something I can help you with?”
“I wish.”
“Try me. Your mom is good at finding solutions.”
I looked around in jest. “My mom? Then I better go find her.”
“There’s nothing wrong with speaking in the third person.”
“I’m fine, Mom. Really.” This was something only time could solve.
Owen brushed by me in the hall on my way to the bathroom. “It’s been so nice seeing you this week, sis.”
I knew he was being sarcastic. I had hardly been home at all and it was already Saturday and he was irritated. “Sorry.” I felt like I was always apologizing to someone. “Let’s hang out now.”
“Can’t. I actually made plans.”
My phone rang, Lisa’s name flashing across the screen. “Hello,” I answered.
“Hi! Today is my hospital day and I want you to come with me.”
I closed my eyes. Now was the time to say no, when I knew I should stay home. But then I thought about the hour and a half we’d have in the car there and back and how I really needed to talk to someone, so I found myself saying, “Okay.”
A light snow hit the windshield as Lisa and I drove on the freeway to the hospital. The heater in Lisa’s car had stopped working, so the defroster was blasting cold air, and we were both shivering. I wrapped my scarf around my neck three times, then said, “I kissed Dax.” It probably wasn’t the greatest of conditions to tell someone something surprising. The car only swerved a little with her reaction, however, and she corrected it quickly.
“What? When?”
“Last night. We kissed.”
“So . . . not a distraction anymore?”
“I don’t know.”