Read Online How to Knit a Heart Back Home by Rachael Herron - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Rachael Herron
Ads: Link
motion, Molly indicated for Lucy to go on.
Lucy made sure Jonas was still over by the dartboard. She sure as heck didn’t need her older brother hearing about her sad love life. Behind her, Silas’s nose was still buried in his book. He’d never hear them talking, even if he were sitting closer.
“I’d been his tutor for six months. I was crazy, horrible, sick-to-my-stomach in love with him. He never even really knew my name. We’d meet in the public library on Thursday nights and I’d take bets with myself whether or not he’d get my name right or not. Laura or Lisa or Luann—every once in a while he got it right and called me Lucy. I told myself he was teasing me, but I wasn’t sure if he was or not. He wasn’t good at math, but it wasn’t because he wasn’t smart. There was stuff going on at home—he’d come in with dark circles under his eyes, and kids told stories about the screaming coming from his house, his father beating his mother, and he came in with black eyes sometimes. He blamed it on his motorcycle.”
“Swoon,” said Molly.
“I know, right? Remember Matt Dillon in The Outsiders ? Dallas Winston? He was that tough and dark and scary and sad. And hot . I sat next to him and we talked numbers. He never met my eyes.”
“And you went to a party . . .” Molly prompted her.
“I’m getting there. I tried the punch. My first alcohol. I was practically begging to be a John Hughes movie, I know. I was a moron. I wore this fuchsia dress with big puffed sleeves and a net bodice—it was horrible. I had dyed fuchsia shoes to match that made my toes pink for weeks. My mom still has the outfit in a closet somewhere, I have no idea why. I drank too much, of course. I saw him standing in a corner when I was waiting for the bathroom and when I came out, I saw him go into a side bedroom. I followed him on a drunken whim, and as soon as I entered . . .”
Molly said triumphantly, “A la John Hughes, he stole your panties and put them on the bulletin board at school!”
Lucy groaned. “I wish. He’d been waiting in the dark for a girl. I’m not even sure which one, but he thought I was her, so when I wandered in, not knowing what I wanted, and suddenly he had his . . . hands all over me, I was surprised. But I went along with it.” She stared across the bar into rows of colorful bottles.
She had shut the bedroom door behind her, and the noise of the party that had been roaring like an unfamiliar train behind her was suddenly silenced, and all she could hear was his breathing, close, right in front of her.
“You came,” Owen had said to her.
And even though the small part of her brain that was still processing normally knew he hadn’t meant her, knew that he’d been waiting for someone else, she irrationally hoped he’d seen her backlit by the open door and that she was, in fact, exactly who he’d been waiting for. She’d nodded, even though in the dim light he would barely have seen it.
Both of his hands slid around her waist, and he pulled her tight against him. Her breath left her body as if she’d fallen from a great height, as if it had been knocked out of her. Her head felt light. He didn’t take his time. His lips moved to just below her jawline at the same time that his hand crept up to cup her breast. Then his mouth claimed hers.
And time stopped.
She swore it did. For Owen, too.
The kiss deepened. Their breath became ragged as their lips touched, danced against each other’s, parted and returned. She couldn’t bear her mouth to be far from his and she noticed that his hand at her breast became less insistent as all their focus spun around this one kiss, this perfect, perfect, kiss. Everything depended on this moment. Just to breathe against his mouth, to feel him gasping against her, was enough. Their hands touched each other’s faces, they drew back and gazed in the dimness at each other in wonder, and then returned to what was the ultimate kiss, the kiss Lucy knew
Lucy made sure Jonas was still over by the dartboard. She sure as heck didn’t need her older brother hearing about her sad love life. Behind her, Silas’s nose was still buried in his book. He’d never hear them talking, even if he were sitting closer.
“I’d been his tutor for six months. I was crazy, horrible, sick-to-my-stomach in love with him. He never even really knew my name. We’d meet in the public library on Thursday nights and I’d take bets with myself whether or not he’d get my name right or not. Laura or Lisa or Luann—every once in a while he got it right and called me Lucy. I told myself he was teasing me, but I wasn’t sure if he was or not. He wasn’t good at math, but it wasn’t because he wasn’t smart. There was stuff going on at home—he’d come in with dark circles under his eyes, and kids told stories about the screaming coming from his house, his father beating his mother, and he came in with black eyes sometimes. He blamed it on his motorcycle.”
“Swoon,” said Molly.
“I know, right? Remember Matt Dillon in The Outsiders ? Dallas Winston? He was that tough and dark and scary and sad. And hot . I sat next to him and we talked numbers. He never met my eyes.”
“And you went to a party . . .” Molly prompted her.
“I’m getting there. I tried the punch. My first alcohol. I was practically begging to be a John Hughes movie, I know. I was a moron. I wore this fuchsia dress with big puffed sleeves and a net bodice—it was horrible. I had dyed fuchsia shoes to match that made my toes pink for weeks. My mom still has the outfit in a closet somewhere, I have no idea why. I drank too much, of course. I saw him standing in a corner when I was waiting for the bathroom and when I came out, I saw him go into a side bedroom. I followed him on a drunken whim, and as soon as I entered . . .”
Molly said triumphantly, “A la John Hughes, he stole your panties and put them on the bulletin board at school!”
Lucy groaned. “I wish. He’d been waiting in the dark for a girl. I’m not even sure which one, but he thought I was her, so when I wandered in, not knowing what I wanted, and suddenly he had his . . . hands all over me, I was surprised. But I went along with it.” She stared across the bar into rows of colorful bottles.
She had shut the bedroom door behind her, and the noise of the party that had been roaring like an unfamiliar train behind her was suddenly silenced, and all she could hear was his breathing, close, right in front of her.
“You came,” Owen had said to her.
And even though the small part of her brain that was still processing normally knew he hadn’t meant her, knew that he’d been waiting for someone else, she irrationally hoped he’d seen her backlit by the open door and that she was, in fact, exactly who he’d been waiting for. She’d nodded, even though in the dim light he would barely have seen it.
Both of his hands slid around her waist, and he pulled her tight against him. Her breath left her body as if she’d fallen from a great height, as if it had been knocked out of her. Her head felt light. He didn’t take his time. His lips moved to just below her jawline at the same time that his hand crept up to cup her breast. Then his mouth claimed hers.
And time stopped.
She swore it did. For Owen, too.
The kiss deepened. Their breath became ragged as their lips touched, danced against each other’s, parted and returned. She couldn’t bear her mouth to be far from his and she noticed that his hand at her breast became less insistent as all their focus spun around this one kiss, this perfect, perfect, kiss. Everything depended on this moment. Just to breathe against his mouth, to feel him gasping against her, was enough. Their hands touched each other’s faces, they drew back and gazed in the dimness at each other in wonder, and then returned to what was the ultimate kiss, the kiss Lucy knew
Similar Books
