CHAPTER 36: The Stare
1016 Words
Leo's POV
I stood right next to Nirvana but I was barely holding myself together. My stomach rolled with nausea. The alcohol I drank last night was punishing my body today. My mouth tasted foul and dry. Every single breath felt like an effort.
Then, I saw Jesse walking across the grass toward us.
I could not stay. Seeing him approach, knowing he was about to offer that polite, pitying smile brought the pain right back to the surface. It hurt.
I turned around before he could even reach us. I left Nirvana standing there and walked fast toward the campus library. I did not look back. Even when Nirvana called after me. I only adjusted my glasses and walked away.
I bypassed the doors of the library and kept walking straight outside. Every single step I took sent a dull throb pounding behind my eyes.
I sweat under my clothes. I just wanted to reach my dorm room. I wanted to crawl into my bed, pull the heavy blankets over my head and sleep until the nausea went away. Until the embarrassment was gone.
The bright morning sun hit my face directly and a harsh light pierced right through my eyes. It triggered a sudden spike in my headache. A sharp blinding pain shot straight through my temples.
I stopped completely dead in my tracks. I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed the heels of my hands hard against my temples, trying to force the throbbing ache away.
Then, the memory crashed into me.
It did not come as a visual picture. I gasped out loud, my hands dropping slightly from my face.
I felt it.
I tasted the burning bite of the whiskey. The rich flavor was completely mixed with the wet, desperate heat of something.. a mouth pressing hard against mine. I felt the sudden plunge of a tongue pushing past my lips. It was dominant and hungry.
I remembered parting my lips, eagerly letting him in. I remembered the exact way our mouths moved together, rough and uncoordinated but filled with raw need. I tasted the alcohol and the dark heat of his mouth.
Then the smell overpowered everything else. It was the distinct scent of leather mixed with the faint smell of the outside air. The masculine scent flooded my senses and my body reacted to the touch.
I felt the friction of a hard chest pressing flush against my body. I remembered the exact weight of it. I remembered arching my back, pressing myself closer, chasing the heat of the man holding me.
I remembered the desperate, needy sound I made in the back of my throat when he grabbed me.
Standing right there, an immediate ache of arousal hit my body. The reaction was instantaneous. Heat pooled deep in my groin. My breath hitched, coming out in short, ragged pants.
My skin flushed hot under my shirt. I could feel the phantom pressure of his arousal grinding against me.
The intense, burning s****l need completely consumed me. I wanted that heavy grip on my jaw again. I wanted the dominant, aggressive plunge of his mouth.
I dropped my hands. I opened my eyes, desperate to ground myself. I needed to look at the students, the buildings, the trees. I needed to snap out of this erotic haze flooding my brain. I dragged in a shaky breath of the morning air. I couldn't have a hard on in this crowd.
I looked toward the far edge of the quad and I froze.
A black motorcycle was parked and a man sat on it, a leather jacket shining under the sun.
Even with a helmet on, I knew who it was.
Ronan.
Nirvana’s older brother. The terrifying, guarded man who had barely spoken two words to me the entire time I knew him.
He was sitting perfectly still. He ignored the hundreds of college students walking past him. He was looking directly at me.
The moment our eyes locked across, the blurry fragmented memory sharpened into clarity. The missing details locked together in my head.
The smell of leather. It was his jacket.
It was him.
It was Ronan.
The realization hit me so hard my knees actually shook. I kissed him. I kissed my best friend's terrifying, emotionally unavailable brother.
And he kissed me back. He kissed me with an aggressive hunger that I could still feel burning in my blood.
The tension crackled straight across. The distance between us meant absolutely nothing. The air felt thick and heated. I knew he was remembering the exact same thing.
My heart pounded violently against my ribs and blood rushed to my ears. The hangover nausea vanished, overridden by the rush of adrenaline and raw lust.
I felt entirely exposed, standing in the daylight with my body openly reacting to the intimate memory of his mouth on mine.
But I did not back down. I refused to look away. I stared right back into his dark eyes. I let the reality of the memory settle over my skin. I let my expression show him exactly what I was feeling.
I wanted him to see the flush on my face. I wanted him to see the rise and fall of my chest. I let him see exactly how much I remembered, and exactly how much I still wanted him to touch me.
We stared at each other for a long moment. I swear I could see the tension in his broad chest even from this distance.
His hands gripped the handlebars of his bike tightly. He looked almost trapped by the intense eye contact. The unspoken truth hung heavily between us. He was fighting the pull.
Then, Ronan cracked.
He broke the contact first and flinched away from my gaze before he kicked the bike into gear and peeled away from the curb.
He was fleeing. He was running away from me.
I watched the black motorcycle disappear down the busy street. My chest heaved, my breath suddenly caught in my throat.
"You remember exactly what happened last night, don't you?" I whispered.
- Writer
