Read Online Celestial Desire by Abbie Zanders - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Abbie Zanders
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place the picture at being taken about ten years earlier. “Who’s this with your mom?”
Celeste cleared her throat. “That’s me,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper.
Zane looked up sharply to see her face suffused with red, then looked back at the photo, his mind unable to reconcile the woman currently sitting next to him with the young girl in the picture. The girl in the photo was clearly overweight, with long, straight dark hair and thick glasses. Braces were visible in her awkward smile. Jessica was beaming, proudly holding up a diploma, the name easily identifiable: Princeton.
Celeste snatched the photo back, clearly embarrassed.
“You look different,” he said simply. Celeste snorted, then immediately brought her hand up to her face, mortified. “Ya think?”
He chuckled. “You know, I was the smallest kid in my class until I hit high school. First day of my freshman year, I walked in and was promptly escorted to the principal’s office. They thought I was an elementary school kid who got on the wrong bus.”
Celeste raised her gaze, her eyes widening. He knew she was trying to picture him as that skinny, awkward kid he’d once been. “Really?”
“Yep. Then in one year, I shot up seven inches. It was awkward as hell; I grew so fast I actually had trouble with my balance. The next year, my testosterone kicked in and I packed on about fifty pounds and another five inches. Started growing hair in all kinds of interesting places, too,” he winked.
She laughed, the last of her embarrassment fading away. There was that tug in his gut again, feeling like some kind of hero because he’d made her smile.
“So… about that bucket list. Let’s see it.”
Somewhat reluctantly, Celeste handed him the paper. It was well-worn, soft and tissue-like from being folded and unfolded so many times. A bulleted list in handwriting so perfectly uniform it might have been computer generated, spanned two columns. His eyes scanned the list, his amusement growing with the first few entries.
Get a tattoo.
Get a navel piercing.
Go skinny dipping.
Ride a Harley.
Pet a snake.
Dance with reckless abandon.
Go to Disneyland.
Adopt a pet.
“This is your list?” he asked. He’d been expecting her list to include items on a much grander scale, but hell . Most of it consisted of things regular people did every day.
She nodded, squirming a little. Zane returned his attention to the list, squinting at the singular entry crossed off.
Have wild hot sex with a gorgeous stranger.
He had trouble reading beyond that line. He raised his eyes and found her looking at him intently. He held her gaze for an eternity, searching for something – anything – that might give him a clue to what she was thinking at that moment.
Is that all he was to her – an item to be checked off a to-do list? Is that why she resisted his attempts for anything more? Or was there a chance that she was willing to take things a little further?
“Are you angry with me?” she asked finally.
“No,” he said, drawing the word out. “Should I be?”
She shrugged, dropping her eyes and reclaiming her list. She refolded it carefully and put it back into her wallet. “I never expected to see you again after that first night.”
Well, that made two of them. “Are you disappointed?”
She looked him right in the eye. “No. I’m not,” she said firmly, clearly. “Surprised? Yes. But disappointed? No.” She blew out a breath. “I think the more telling question is, are you?”
Zane might have laughed if the situation were different, the irony was just too much. Celeste was looking at him from beneath half-shuttered eyes, trying to appear only casually interested in his answer, but he knew better. Her hands clutched her little purse so tightly he could see the white skin stretched over her knuckles, and she was holding her breath as if his next words meant everything.
He was about as far from disappointed as he could get, but
Celeste cleared her throat. “That’s me,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper.
Zane looked up sharply to see her face suffused with red, then looked back at the photo, his mind unable to reconcile the woman currently sitting next to him with the young girl in the picture. The girl in the photo was clearly overweight, with long, straight dark hair and thick glasses. Braces were visible in her awkward smile. Jessica was beaming, proudly holding up a diploma, the name easily identifiable: Princeton.
Celeste snatched the photo back, clearly embarrassed.
“You look different,” he said simply. Celeste snorted, then immediately brought her hand up to her face, mortified. “Ya think?”
He chuckled. “You know, I was the smallest kid in my class until I hit high school. First day of my freshman year, I walked in and was promptly escorted to the principal’s office. They thought I was an elementary school kid who got on the wrong bus.”
Celeste raised her gaze, her eyes widening. He knew she was trying to picture him as that skinny, awkward kid he’d once been. “Really?”
“Yep. Then in one year, I shot up seven inches. It was awkward as hell; I grew so fast I actually had trouble with my balance. The next year, my testosterone kicked in and I packed on about fifty pounds and another five inches. Started growing hair in all kinds of interesting places, too,” he winked.
She laughed, the last of her embarrassment fading away. There was that tug in his gut again, feeling like some kind of hero because he’d made her smile.
“So… about that bucket list. Let’s see it.”
Somewhat reluctantly, Celeste handed him the paper. It was well-worn, soft and tissue-like from being folded and unfolded so many times. A bulleted list in handwriting so perfectly uniform it might have been computer generated, spanned two columns. His eyes scanned the list, his amusement growing with the first few entries.
Get a tattoo.
Get a navel piercing.
Go skinny dipping.
Ride a Harley.
Pet a snake.
Dance with reckless abandon.
Go to Disneyland.
Adopt a pet.
“This is your list?” he asked. He’d been expecting her list to include items on a much grander scale, but hell . Most of it consisted of things regular people did every day.
She nodded, squirming a little. Zane returned his attention to the list, squinting at the singular entry crossed off.
Have wild hot sex with a gorgeous stranger.
He had trouble reading beyond that line. He raised his eyes and found her looking at him intently. He held her gaze for an eternity, searching for something – anything – that might give him a clue to what she was thinking at that moment.
Is that all he was to her – an item to be checked off a to-do list? Is that why she resisted his attempts for anything more? Or was there a chance that she was willing to take things a little further?
“Are you angry with me?” she asked finally.
“No,” he said, drawing the word out. “Should I be?”
She shrugged, dropping her eyes and reclaiming her list. She refolded it carefully and put it back into her wallet. “I never expected to see you again after that first night.”
Well, that made two of them. “Are you disappointed?”
She looked him right in the eye. “No. I’m not,” she said firmly, clearly. “Surprised? Yes. But disappointed? No.” She blew out a breath. “I think the more telling question is, are you?”
Zane might have laughed if the situation were different, the irony was just too much. Celeste was looking at him from beneath half-shuttered eyes, trying to appear only casually interested in his answer, but he knew better. Her hands clutched her little purse so tightly he could see the white skin stretched over her knuckles, and she was holding her breath as if his next words meant everything.
He was about as far from disappointed as he could get, but
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