And Jacobmisunderstood. He was too strong to recognize that my hands, trying to yank his hair out by the roots, meant to cause him pain. Instead of anger he imagined passion.
He thought I was finally responding tohim. With a wild gasp, he brought his mouth back to mine, his fingers clutching frantically against the skin at my waist.
The jolt of anger unbalanced my tenuous hold on self-control; his unexpected,ecstatic response overthrew it entirely. If there had been only triumph, I might had been able to resist him.
But the utter defenselessness of his sudden joy cracked my determination, disabled it.My brain disconnected from my body.
Against all reason, my lips were moving with his in stange, confusing ways they'd never moved before- because i didn't have to be careful with Jacob, and hecertainly wasn't being careful with me.
My fingers tightened in his hair, but I was pulling him closer now. He was everywhere. The piercing sunlight turned my eyelids red, and the color fit, matchedthe heat.
The heat was everywhere. I couldn't see or hear or feel anything that wasn´t Jacob. The tiny piece of brain that retained sanity screamed questions at me. Why wasn't I stopping this?Worse than that, why couldn't I find in myself even the desire to want to stop? What did it mean that I didn't want him to stop?
That my hands clung to his shoulders, and liked that they were wideand strong? That his hands pulled me too tight against his body, and yet it was not tight enough for me?
The questions were stupid, because i knew the answer: I'd been lying to myself. Jacob wasright. He'd been right all along. He was more than just my friend. That's why it was so impossible to tell him goodbye- because I was in love with him. Too.
loved him, much more than I should, and yet,...