Read Online The Turning Point by Marie Meyer - Free Book Online Page B

Against his tan skin, they shone even brighter. Megawatt didn’t even begin to cover it. God bless his parents and their dedication to orthodontia.
    He held out his hand. “Lucas.”
    I put my palm to his, and he closed his fingers tightly. My heart gave a quick thump as our fingers made contact.
    In books, I’d always read about people experiencing a spark or an electric current, indicative of an instant attraction. I wasn’t going to lie to myself and say I wasn’t attracted to him, because I definitely was. But there was no shock or jolt. Nothing like that. When my hand pressed against his, it was more than a momentary spark. I felt anchored…connected…not alone.
    Our hands formed the source of the circuit, while our bodies directed the pulse of energy through our systems. Without our connection, the voltage would die.
    And just like I’d imagined, he pulled his hand back and the power went out, like someone had thrown the breaker in a fuse box.
    He lifted his sunglasses to the top of his head. Small creases pinched the skin around his eyes, and he pierced me with a cerulean gaze. His gorgeous blue eyes were hypnotizing. Cocking his head to the right, he studied me for a brief moment, then asked, “What did you say your name was?”
    “Uh…” The sun bleached everything, making even the most vivid colors hard to distinguish, but his eyes were otherworldly, a deep, ocean blue that rivaled the Bay of Naples. I still stared…I couldn’t help it. With eyes like that, he must get that reaction all the time.
    “Forget your name?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
    “Uh…” I giggled at my own stupidity. Yes, I’m a college graduate. I’m capable of holding a conversation. What was my problem? “Sorry, no.” I cleared my throat. “My name’s Sophia.”
    “You’re an American?”
    “Yes” I confirmed with a nod. “And you?”
    He folded his map and stuffed it in his back pocket. “Born and raised.”
    “Leave it to me to knock over a fellow countryman in a sea of foreigners.”
    “I won’t deny your talent.” He smiled broadly, his white teeth on full display yet again. But this time, I was drawn to the deep-set dimple on his left cheek.
    It was completely out of character for me, but I wanted more than anything to run my fingers over his cheeks. To feel the golden smattering of stubble on his face and to have his chin scratch against my fingertips like fine sand. Bliss. Of all the people there was to knock over, why him? He was too gorgeous for words, and by the way mine disappeared in his presence, it wasn’t just an opinion but a fact.
    My cheeks overheated, and it wasn’t the sun causing the spike in my temperature: Embarrassment coupled with his insane good looks was enough to leave me blubbering like an idiot. I squinted, raising my arm to shield the sun from my hot face.
    “I’m sorry I knocked you over.” Hiding my awkwardness behind a casual comment, I shuffled my feet. “Buon viaggio.” I hitched my messenger bag securely on my shoulder, waved, and began walking away.
    Did I just say “have a nice trip” after tripping over him? What was wrong with me?
    “Sophia, wait,” he called.
    My heart hammered hard against my chest at the sound of my name wrapped in his voice. God, what was wrong with me? I stopped and looked over my shoulder. With two confident strides, he stood next to me again. I turned to face him. There was a considerable height difference between us, and by his cocky grin, he seemed to like the angle.
    “Yeah?” My voice wobbled. It had been ages since I’d had a legitimate conversation with a guy. After the miserably awkward month when I’d dated Scotty Hendrickson in high school, and the bumbling five minutes in the backseat of his mom’s car on the night of our junior prom, I’d sworn off dating altogether. Then senior year happened. After Pen died, I’d had no desire to be around anyone, let alone a guy. School provided an easy way to hide from male