Read Online Winter Longing by Tricia Mills - Free Book Online Page B

“Wait. Here, let me show you again.” He grabbed another dart and turned me to face the dartboard. When he placed the dart in my hand, he didn’t let go. Instead, he stayed behind me, lined up his view of the dartboard next to mine, and lifted my hand.
    I held my breath, not because I was concentrating, but because Jesse was standing so close. He meant nothing by it, I was sure, but he was just so . . . there.
    “Concentrate on the bull’s-eye,” he said, his breath hot on my ear. He guided my arm back. “Now just go straight forward with more strength than last time.”
    Strength? I had none left. Wasn’t that much obvious? Still, I focused on the small red circle in the center of the dartboard. I let the dart fly, and it actually stuck in the board, two rings out from the middle.
    “Hey, much better,” Jesse said, still too close.
    I stepped away, as casually as I could. “Guess I’m marginally less dangerous now.”
    When I glanced at Jesse, I caught him watching me as if he couldn’t figure something out. After a moment, he broke eye contact and sauntered over to the air-hockey table. He leaned against it, and when he looked up at me again, the perplexed look was gone.
    “Sorry about dinner. I told Brenda it was too soon, but she really wanted to try to help.”
    I shifted my feet at the change of topic. “It’s okay. It was nice of her.” Even though Jesse was right. And his eerily accurate perception surprised me.
    “If you want to go, I’ll tell your parents you left to do homework or something.”
    I eyed him, trying to figure out this unexpected side of Jesse. He wasn’t acting like a guy who was being nice just because his parents were forcing him to. Or because we were neighbors. And when he’d been standing behind me, it’d felt . . . I didn’t know exactly how to describe it. Charged, maybe.
    But that could have been my imagination, just like the warmth in the bathroom. Maybe parts of my brain were beginning to short-circuit.
    “Homework is pretty far down my list.”
    What was wrong with me? Jesse was giving me the out I’d wanted only a few minutes before, and I wasn’t taking it. But as much as I wanted to hide from the world, part of me dreaded going back to my house. What sense did it make to want to wrap myself in memories of Spencer and avoid them at the same time?
    Not sure what to do, I picked up a couple of darts and practiced my aim. Jesse didn’t say anything as we fell into a rhythm of taking turns throwing. He beat me every time, but I didn’t care.
    “It was the cake.” The words tumbled down from my brain and out my mouth. I didn’t know why I said it beyond the fact that it was strangely easy to talk to Jesse, even with the embarrassment still lingering.
    “What?”
    I took careful aim with a dart and hit the ring outside the bull’s-eye. “The carrot cake earlier,” I said. “It was Spencer’s favorite. I made him one the day before. . . .” My voice faltered.
    “The day before the crash?”
    I nodded. “It was a good-luck cake.” The cruel irony squeezed my heart, causing me to wince.
    Jesse pitched a final dart at the board. “Life sucks sometimes,” he said.
    Anberlin’s “Last First Kiss” started to play, and it was the final straw of the evening.
    “I think I’ll take you up on your offer.” I stood. “Thanks.”
    Our eyes met. His still didn’t reflect pity, but an understanding and the odd sensation that he was hiding something shone in those dark-chocolate depths.
    He nodded. “See you tomorrow.”
    His words seemed to mean more than “I’ll see you randomly in the hallway,” but I pushed the thought from my mind.
    I hurried out the door, leaving Jesse to explain my departure. The night was chilly, a definite sign that Labor Day had come and gone. A bright moon lit the cloudless sky, illuminating the night.
    Once outside I slowed, not in any hurry to close myself up in my room, since there was no one home. I was as alone out here as